by Dana R. Lynn
Kenzie joined Georgiana somewhat reluctantly. Elizabeth had helped to make her mourning wardrobe more appropriate. Georgiana had somehow convinced both she and Elizabeth that Kenzie needed one new gown. So while they were in town shopping for a gown for Georgiana, Kenzie found herself prodded and measured as well.
And now, she was accompanying the family to an estate twenty miles north of Pemberley. Kenzie had balked at first. She could remain at Pemberley until the Darcys returned that evening. Georgiana shook her head.
“Kenzie, we are not going for merely a day, silly,” she chided her. “We are going to be visiting for at least three days. Why bother going for just a day?”
She had been so astonished that she had allowed Georgiana to pick out her clothes without a word. Three days? She was supposed to keep up with this charade in another stranger’s house for three days?
“I feel like a fraud,” she muttered to the younger woman. “Georgiana, I can’t believe I let you convince me to get this. I feel almost naked.”
She felt a bit smug at her friend’s fiery blush. Regency ladies did not say “naked”. It was almost as improper as swearing.
“Would you stop being a ninny about it? You needed something, and we were already in town.”
“Georgiana Darcy, you do not call your guest a ninny. I thought you had better manners than that.”
Georgiana heaved a sigh. Kenzie smothered a grin, and noticed that Elizabeth did the same. She was willing to bet that Elizabeth was used to melodrama, coming from a family with five daughters.
Darcy’s voice could be heard talking with someone just beyond their sight. As they neared the stairs, the other man laughed. Kenzie’s heart fluttered. She came to an abrupt stop, and Georgiana had to do a neat side step to avoid crashing into her back. She recognized that voice.
Colonel Fitzwilliam was back.
She had tried to convince herself that she hadn’t missed him, that she didn’t keep an ear open for any bit of news about him. He had returned to the war, and she insisted it didn’t matter if she never saw him again. Now, she admitted that she was lying to herself.
William and the colonel came around the corner. They glanced up the stairs, and the laugh died on the colonels eyes. Instead, wonder filled his face as he caught sight of her.
Breathe, Kenzie. Breathe. Her heart was pounding like a freight train as she started down the steps.
****
She was breathtaking. When he had first seen her, he had thought her merely pretty. Now, he was convinced that she was the loveliest creature who ever lived. Even in her mourning gown. Thankfully, she hadn’t decided on a black gown. Hers was a soft white with black edging. Her black hair was swept up, but there was one dainty curl that swayed against her neck. His eyes fastened on that curl briefly.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam,” she curtsied before him. “I had not heard that you had returned from the war.”
Bowing over her hand, he realized he did not need to force a smile. Rather, he needed to force it not to become a ridiculous grin.
“Miss James. I am only here on a short leave.”
Was that disappointment in her eyes? Elation and self-recriminations battled inside him. He was happy that she had missed him, too. But the practical part of him warned him that he should discourage any affection on her part. On his part, he acknowledged his heart was already lost. But he was no closer to living a life he could ask a lady to share. No man of any worth asked a gentle lady to share a soldier’s life. And even if he sold his colors and became a civilian, he would be too poor to support a wife for quite some time.
All at once, Fitzwilliam became aware of the pregnant silence around them. The Darcys were all three watching them, avid interest in their eyes. Heat climbed his face.
“Should we be on our way then?” he blurted.
Darcy chuckled. “Certainly, Fitzwilliam. Let’s escort the ladies to the carriage, shall we?”
Five minutes later, Fitzwilliam suspected Darcy was trying his hand at matchmaking. What else could account for the seating arrangement? Miss James had been placed directly across from him. Every time he raised his eyes, he met hers. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes kept sliding away and coming back. Yes, she definitely felt the attraction.
After an eternity, they arrived at their destination. Mr. Charles Bingley had recently purchased an estate in Derbyshire with his bride, Jane. Fitzwilliam had always enjoyed Bingley’s company. And Mrs. Bingley was a delightful woman. Quiet and serene, she was Elizabeth’s oldest sister. A beautiful woman, she had soft blond hair and light blue eyes. Fitzwilliam had always found her lovely, although not nearly as vibrant and alive as Elizabeth. But few women were.
Fitzwilliam’s eyes returned to Kenzie. She was, though. He could feel the vibrancy emanating from her. He was sure it took all her control to keep herself still. In fact, was that … yes. He hid a smile behind his hand as he caught sight of her small foot bouncing up and down in impatience.
“Fitzwilliam! Darcy!” Bingley yelled with barely controlled exuberance. “Come! Why are you still in your carriage! I have been waiting to show you around.”
Laughing, they exited the carriage. Elizabeth saw her sister and rushed forward to hug her.
“Jane! I have so much to tell you!”
“Lizzy, Miss Darcy, Mr. Darcy! Wonderful to see you. And you as well, Colonel.”
Darcy leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “We are brother and sister now, Jane. No more Mr. Darcy. I insist you call us William and Georgiana now.”
“As you wish, William.”
Darcy lifted a hand to indicate his guest. “And may I present Miss Mackenzie James? She is a friend of Georgiana’s who is visiting us.”
Jane’s keen eyes took in the state of Miss James’ dress and softened in sympathy. The women curtsied to each other and Bingley bowed. “Of course. Welcome to our house Miss James. This is Miss Bingley, Charles’ younger sister.” She indicated the well-dressed woman beside her.
Miss Bingley gave Miss James only the smallest acknowledgement. When her eyes slid to him, the colonel shuddered. They lit with avarice. Instantly, a wide smile stretched her thin lips. Her eyes fluttered coquettishly.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam! What a pleasure to see you again!”
It astonished him how one person could make him feel dirty with a mere greeting.
Bingley led the way into a sitting room. “We are waiting for one more couple to arrive. Do you remember John Turner from Cambridge, Darcy?”
“John Turner! I have not seen him in six years,” Darcy exclaimed.
“Nor had I. I happened to see him in town last week. He is recently married and has inherited his father’s estate, only 20 miles from here. I mentioned our party, and he was quite pleased to accept my invitation.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam began to move towards Miss James. Miss Bingley intercepted him. Her conversation was vain, filled with flirtation and little snipes at the other women she knew. He hastily disengaged himself from her side and returned to the gentlemen. When his jaw began to ache, he realized he was gritting his teeth in annoyance.
Outside a carriage pulled up.
“Ah! That must be John now,” Bingley exclaimed.
The group faced the door as the servant announced Mr. and Mrs. Turner. Mr. Turner entered the room, his bride on his arm.
“Sarah!”
Fitzwilliam jerked at Miss James’ sudden cry.
Mrs. Turner’s eyes filled with tears. “Kenzie? Kenzie!”
Miss James narrowly missed Fitzwilliam as she dashed across the room, arms outstretched. The women embraced, both of them crying in broken sobs. The colonel stiffened as he noticed Miss Bingley sneering as she watched them.
The others had all fallen into a shocked silence. Miss James’ voice was clearly heard by everyone in the room.
“I thought I had lost the whole family. I thought I was the only one left.”
Chapter Fourteen
Her throat was raw. Despite her best e
fforts, another sob burst through as she held on to her cousin. Sarah had mysteriously disappeared two years ago.
“Kenzie, I never thought I’d see you again,” Sarah whispered brokenly, her own voice harsh from crying.
“Miss James. Mrs. Turner,” Bingley approached them, and stopped.
He doesn’t know what to say, what to think. Oh no. Glancing around, Kenzie realized she and Sarah had created a scene. It was a good thing it was a small party. Pulling herself out of her cousin’s arms, she wiped at her face with her hands. A handkerchief was held before her. She didn’t need to look to know it was the colonel’s. She was hyper aware of his presence. Nodding her thanks, she tried to erase the telltale signs of emotion and moved to hand it back.
“Keep it,” he murmured.
“Mr. Bingley, Mrs. Bingley, please forgive us for causing such an uproar. I thought my entire family was gone. To find my cousin is alive has overwhelmed me.”
“Cousin!” Georgiana gasped, eyes wide. Kenzie saw she had put it together.
“Yes, Sarah and I are first cousins. Her mother and mine are sisters.” Sarah and Kenzie exchanged glances. Although Mr. Bingley was all friendliness and would no doubt allow them to have a room to catch up privately, to do so in a house full of guests was unthinkable. Especially given the snide attitude of Miss Bingley. They could not take the chance of being overheard.
To say that the other guests were amazed was an understatement. And, with the exception of Miss Bingley, all were supremely sympathetic to the two women. Miss Bingley’s sneer became even more pronounced. During dinner, she fawned over the handsome colonel. Kenzie could hardly eat. Her stomach was in knots. The colonel was seated across the table from her, so there was no way for them to converse. Instead, she had to satisfy her longing with glimpses of his smile. He didn’t appear to respond to Miss Bingley’s flattery, she was glad to note.
Miss Bingley dropped the act of cordiality the moment the ladies and gentlemen separated after dinner. She allowed herself the luxury of making caustic comments throughout the remainder of the evening. Kenzie found her manner of dressing, her manners, and even her joy at seeing her cousin again were all the focus of snide remarks and distain. If she never set eyes on the superior woman again, she wouldn’t be sad.
What was the purpose for separating? Why couldn’t the sexes remain together? Kenzie got Georgiana to the side briefly and put the question to her. And received a blank stare in response.
“Remain together? What an idea!”
Sarah joined them. Georgiana glanced around them.
“What, making sure Miss Bingley won’t join us?” Kenzie said drily, rolling her eyes. “Not likely. Your cousin is with the other men.”
“That woman! She was forever clinging to William before he married Elizabeth. I think she wants a title.”
“Not with her connections to trade,” Sarah murmured.
“Sarah!” Kenzie was amazed at the biting remark.
Her blond cousin blushed. “Sorry, Mackenzie. I forgot myself. I can’t like the woman. She tried to compromise John before we were engaged. If she had succeeded, he probably would have married her to preserve his honor.”
What an idiotic notion! Yet she had seen proof of that mindset since she had arrived. The idea of trapping a man into marriage for a wealth or a title was … was … She shuddered, unable to come up with a vile enough word.
“Miss Darcy, would you do us the honor of playing for us?” Jane Bingley approached with her gentle smile.
Immediately, Georgiana’s face paled. Panic filled her eyes. The change was so swift, Kenzie was startled. Georgiana, it seemed, had the regency equivalent of stage fright. Before she could talk herself out of it, she grabbed her friend’s hand.
“Come on Georgiana. We’ll play together.”
Sarah brightened. “Kenzie, I saw a harp as I entered.”
A grin pulled at the corners of Kenzie’s mouth. It had been ages since she had touched a harp. Not since she had arrived in this time. Her fingers itched to pluck at the strings.
Georgiana gasped. “You can play the harp?”
“She can. Piano and violin as well.” There was no mistaking the pride in Sarah’s voice.
“Why, Miss James,” a syrupy voice broke in. “Is there anything you can’t do?”
Winking at Georgiana, Kenzie turned to Miss Bingley. “Why yes, Miss Bingley. I neither draw nor do I speak Italian, although I can sing it.”
Without waiting for the snide woman’s answer, Kenzie moved to the harp. Setting her fingers on the strings, she waited for Georgiana. Fortunately, the two women had practiced together on the piano frequently during the past two months. She would be able to improvise as long as the younger girl picked a song they had done together.
Her eyebrows raised when Georgiana began with a Scottish piece. Shrugging, she focused on the instrument before her. Miss Bingley stared at her, anger in her gaze. No doubt she had meant to discredit her. Closing her eyes, she shoved the loathsome woman out of her mind and began to sing.
****
“Shall we rejoin the ladies,” Bingley suggested.
The gentlemen stood and meandered back towards the parlor. The sounds of the piano—and was that a harp?—began to drift from the open doorway. A second later a voice started singing. It was a lovely feminine voice, but different than usual. The ton favored light and airy sopranos. There was nothing light or airy about this voice. It was a rich alto through and through. Soon it was joined by a soprano. Elizabeth had joined in.
The men entered the room silently, all listening in appreciation as Elizabeth and Kenzie harmonized. The song ended, and they were almost unanimously asked for an encore. Almost. Fitzwilliam noted with some amusement that Miss Bingley’s expression was decidedly sour. That lady did not like to see others garner admiration or praise. Especially if she considered those others beneath her.
Georgiana stood. “Kenzie, would you play that song you showed me last week? The one I had never heard before.”
Kenzie … Fitzwilliam felt his face heat as he realized he was calling her by her first name in his thoughts. Miss James, he corrected himself, flashed a rather wild eyed look at Georgiana. He did a double take. Was that his little Georgie? His sweet cousin had her chin raised and her eyes clashed with her guests with what could only be termed defiance. Between Elizabeth and Miss James, they were influencing her attitude. He wondered if Darcy had any idea what was in store for him when it was time for her debut next year. A glance over at his cousin answered that question. Darcy was staring at his sister with a mixture of indulgence and resignation.
Barely restraining a snicker at Darcy’s expense, Fitzwilliam settled into a seat near the back of the room. He did not even try to disguise his goal … he wanted to be able to freely watch Miss James as she performed. This time he allowed the smile to form on his face as she reluctantly replaced Georgie at the piano.
His eyes widened as she began the song. He had never heard anything like it. The rich, emotional quality of her voice increased along with the pace of the music. It was not as complex as a concerto, but the lightning quick movement of her fingers on the keyboards was unlike the music either in England or on the continent. Maybe something new in America?
He was caught up in the music. When it stopped, he tried to define the empty feeling inside himself. It was regret. Regret that he would not be the man privileged to listen to her for the rest of his life. Suddenly, all he wanted was to return to his regiment. At least there, he would have something bigger than himself to focus on.
“I say, Colonel Fitzwilliam.” He forced himself out of his reverie and faced Bingley. “I was just inviting Darcy and Turner to join me for a hunt the day after next. Care to come along?”
“Ah, Bingley, very kind of you to invite me. Unfortunately I must decline. My aunt, Lady Catherine, has requested my presence at that time. I will be joining my parents in Kent.”
Darcy frowned. “In Kent? We were just there at Easter.
Does she require my presence as well?”
Darcy and Fitzwilliam both helped to supervise Lady Catherine’s steward.
“No. I believe this is more of a personal nature.” He lowered his voice to keep the ladies unaware of the conversation. “My parents, and our aunt I believe, are hoping to influence me to choose a bride. The sooner the better, or at least they appear to think.”
Darcy grimaced. “You mentioned that before. I had hoped they would drop the subject.”
Scoffing, Fitzwilliam shook his head. “Since when have any of them ever given way to another’s wishes? No, be assured, until I am irrevocably married, they will hound me.”
“You will be able to join us tomorrow, though? We have a delightful day planned with a picnic and some hunting.”
Against his will, Fitzwilliam found his eyes again drawn to Miss James. His heartbeat quickened as she laughed at whatever Elizabeth was saying.
“Yes, Bingley. I will be here tomorrow. I will not leave a minute before I have to.”
Chapter Fifteen
Caroline Bingley stole from the room, trembling with excitement. This was her chance! She had listened with glee as the colonel had talked with the other men. His own relatives were pressuring him to marry. Preferably someone with better breeding than Mrs. Darcy. It still stung that Mr. Darcy had chosen that country chit, Eliza Bennet, over herself. And now, Colonel Fitzwilliam, the son of an earl, was becoming bewitched by Miss Kenzie James. Kenzie! Such an outlandish name!
Entering her chamber, Miss Bingley hastened to locate her writing paper. Well, she would have to take steps. Surely, Lady Whitehaven and Lady Catherine would be interested in learning that their precious colonel was in danger of making a disastrous match with a woman of unknown breeding? And in doing so, maybe she could put herself forward as a desirable candidate for his hand? After all, she had overheard her brother saying to Jane that the colonel was expected to marry a woman with a sizeable dowry. Her own dowry was quite large.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she penned her letter.