Pemberley Ranch - Jack Caldwell [52]
Buford smiled again. “One of my more pleasant duties, I assure you. My colonel assigned me to a detail to do the honors.” He looked around. “Although I’ll probably catch the devil from my wife, Deborah, when I get back. She dearly loves a dance.”
“She’s at post with you?”
“Yes, and expecting another addition to our family in about a month. It’ll be our third, but you worry every time.”
“I expect so.” Darcy took a sip. “How are things otherwise?”
A knowing look crept into Buford’s eyes. “It’s quiet down here, but up along the Red River, it’s another story.”
“I thought I heard something along those lines. Tell me, is the army planning anything soon?”
Buford looked away, considering. “Are you planning on driving any cattle north?”
“Fitz here just got back from Kansas, delivering a herd.”
“Good, good. Let me say this—it’s a wise decision you made, going early. Very wise.”
Darcy and Fitzwilliam nodded, getting the message. The army was planning a major operation against the tribes. Just then, Caroline Bingley walked up.
“There you are, Mr. Darcy. I do believe it’s time for our dance… oh.” She noticed the army officer.
Darcy did the honors. “Miss Caroline Bingley, this is Captain John Buford.” Buford bowed slightly, but to the gentlemen’s surprise, Miss Bingley turned away from him without a word, delivering the cut direct. Darcy did not know the root cause of the woman’s behavior and decided the best way to quell any further incident was to offer the lady his arm for the dance, and they moved away. Fitz was mortified.
“Sorry about that, Buford.”
The officer took a swig of his beer. “Am I supposed to know her? Have I done something to warrant that?”
“Umm… she’s from Georgia.”
“Ohhh… I see. I understand now. The March to the Sea?”
“Yeah.”
Buford cursed. “Damn that war.”
Anne finally escaped the smothering attentions of George Whitehead and went to look for her friend, Beth. Anne wished her mother would believe her when she told her about Whitehead, but she would only dismiss her. “Nonsense,” she would say. “Mr. Whitehead knows his place. He would not look so high as you—he knows better. Enjoy the attention, and who knows— maybe it will finally make Darcy jealous.”
Anne saw Beth standing off to one corner of the tent away from the dance floor, looking in the other direction. Anne walked over to her, catching her attention, but before she could say anything over the low rumble of the crowd, a loud voice was heard.
“I must say I’m amused by what the rustics here about call a ball, Mr. Darcy.”
Both girls saw Caroline Bingley standing close to Will Darcy a few feet away. As they were both behind the pair, they were unnoticed. Anne saw Beth trying to restrain a giggle, holding one finger across her lips. They could clearly overhear the conversation.
“It’s true we don’t have the facilities found in the city, Miss Bingley, but we’re able to manage,” Darcy said dryly.
“And the dresses! Certainly not up to St. Charles Avenue standards, bless their hearts. Except Miss Darcy, of course. No one can disparage her.”
“Of course not.”
Beth threatened to laugh out loud, and Anne had to admit she was amused as well by the pretentious debutant.
Caroline sighed dramatically. “But—oh! Poor Charles! What a waste!”
“I beg your pardon?” Darcy said.
“What Charles could be, given the proper situation! I assume he’s a very good doctor.”
“I believe so.”
“Then he must be. I know several physicians in New Orleans, and all are of the highest circles. There’s great demand not just for their talents but for their society as well. They’re accepted everywhere. By the houses they live in, they’re all rich, or will soon be so.
“But here, in the middle of nowhere! There’s no chance for advancement or fortune, I declare. Only caring for farmers and cowboys—and their animals, I suppose. What kind of life is that for Charles, who grew up at Netherfield? He isn’t what he should be.”
Beth lost all mirth and listened intently.
“And what should he be?” Caroline’s companion asked.
“He should be a prestigious physician in a great city like