by Dana R. Lynn
Dear Lady Whitehaven,
I beg your pardon for being so bold as to write to Your Ladyship. We have never had the pleasure of meeting. However, I feel compelled to acquaint you with a situation which might adversely affect your family.
I have been in the company of your son, the Hon. Colonel Fitzwilliam, while he was visiting my brother’s estate in Derbyshire. I had the opportunity to observe interactions betwixt the colonel and a young woman, Miss James. The afore mentioned lady is a poor relation to the wife of one of my brother’s friends. It soon became clear to me that she had designs on your son. I regarded them with much concern. She would not be a fitting choice for the son of an earl.
I wish you the best of health. If I can be of any assistance to you, it would be my honor.
Your Humble Servant,
Miss Caroline Bingley
Miss Bingley read over her letter carefully. Her conscience pricked her. She didn’t actually know that Miss James had designs on the colonel. Nor did she know her to be penniless. Straightening her shoulders, she dismissed her doubts. What did it matter? If the woman was penniless, she was unworthy of the colonel. If not, well, if she had a dowry than she had the means to attract another suitor.
Tracking down a servant, Miss Bingley handed over her letter, insisting that it was of the utmost importance that it was dispatched immediately.
Placing a hand over her chest, she drew in a deep breath to calm herself. Her heart was racing. Had she done the right thing? This was nonsense! Of course she had! Assuming an innocent air, she returned downstairs and rejoined the group.
Her brother raised his eyebrows as she entered the room; other than him, though, no one else appeared to have noticed. Relief was replaced by annoyance. Really! How rude were these people to not even notice her absence? Seething, she settled in a chair to watch the party. Particularly she watched the colonel conversing with Miss James. Both were flushed, their eyes never wavering from each other. Miss Bingley pursed her lips. Yes, her letter had been sent just in time. If her plan succeeded, Miss James would never see the rugged colonel after he left for Kent.
****
“Miss James, allow me.”
She was becoming very familiar with that scent. And that voice. Colonel Fitzwilliam. Or Richard, as she had taken to calling him in her mind. He helped her to descend from the carriage. Once her feet were on solid ground, he placed her hand on the bend of his arm. The muscles flexed under her hand. She fought the urge to tighten her hold.
Instead, as soon as they drew near to the group, she released him, and was vaguely amused by the disappointment on his face. But she knew his family was depending upon him to marry someone wealthy and connected. She might be relatively new to the culture, but it hadn’t taken long to understand that marriages were made for financial and social gain. Love was not even in the equation for most couples. Sliding a glance to William and Elizabeth she smiled. She knew of one exception to the rule. Then she looked at Sarah. Hopefully her cousin was another.
Almost as if she knew Kenzie was thinking of her, Sarah looked up. She motioned for Kenzie to join her. Immediately, Kenzie moved to her side. Grabbing her arm, Sarah pulled her cousin in close.
“Let’s go somewhere and talk.”
Kenzie nodded. The women excused themselves and began walking near the line of trees. Still in sight of the others, but far enough away so their conversation wouldn’t be overheard.
“Sarah, how did you get here? We thought you had been kidnapped. Your car was still at Gran’s and all your things …”
Sarah nodded, a frown settling on her face. “I know. It was strange. I was riding, and decided to jump over a fallen tree. Suddenly, it felt like a sudden storm blew up. There was lightning. One minute I was jumping,” She shrugged.
“The next you were smothered in darkness and 200 years in the past,” Kenzie finished for her.Both women shuddered at the memory.
“Does John know?”
“Yes, he had started noticing odd things about me. Eventually, I had to do some explaining. Fortunately, by that time he loved me enough to listen.”
Hearing that her cousin had made a love match was a balm to Kenzie’s soul. It would have been awful believing her cousin was trapped in a loveless marriage.
“Does anyone know about you?”
Sighing, Kenzie rubbed her hands over her face. “Georgiana. I guess from her perspective I just appeared out of thin air. Spooked her pretty good. I had to convince her I wasn’t a ghost.”
“Instead you had to make her believe you were from the future,” a snort escaped Sarah, causing Kenzie to giggle.
“What sort of cruel joke is this?” an angry voice demanded.
Richard.
Kenzie closed her eyes and prayed for guidance. Slowly, she turned and faced the man who held her heart in his hands. Her body trembled at the cold eyes glaring at her, as if she was a stranger. How could she convince him? Logical Richard. It was impossible. But she had to try.
“Richard.” He jerked as she said his name. How could she be so careless? “I’m sorry, Colonel. I know it seems impossible. It has to be a lie, you’re thinking. But it’s not.”
He shook his head, a fierce scowl on his face.
“Please, listen,” she begged, tears in her eyes, in her voice. “Think about me. Do I talk like someone from this time? Think of the things I know. Music that has only just come out, that I know as if I had played it for years. Because I have. And other songs, like the one I sang yesterday, that haven’t even been written yet.”
Sarah chimed in. “You can ask John for collaboration. And Georgiana.”
“She’s a child,” he muttered. But his face turned thoughtful at the mention of John.
It took almost an hour, but his doubts became stronger. Indeed, he remembered enough instances where he thought she was different. “Those pants you wear for riding …”
“They are called blue jeans. Made from denim.”
“I have never even heard of denim.”
She couldn’t help her smirk. “Blue jeans won’t be invented for another forty or so years. A man named Levi Strauss made them. In California.”
Sarah whistled. “Wow, how did you remember that?”
“I did a report on him during high school. It stuck.” She shrugged.
****
Was he really supposed to believe this incredible tale? Yet, somehow, it explained so many things. He did manage to get John Turner alone at one point. The man confirmed his wife’s story. Suddenly, Fitzwilliam was ablaze with curiosity. Throughout the rest of the day, he constantly sought out Kenzie to ask her about the future.
“You called me Richard,” he mused at one such time.
Blushing, she ducked her head. “I’m sorry. In my time, people don’t refer to each other as Miss or Mr. I would have been Kenzie to you the moment we were introduced.” She raised her eyes to him. In a breathless voice, she continued, “and I would have called you Richard.”
“In my mind, you have been Kenzie, almost from the beginning,” he admitted in a low voice.
“I have trouble remembering that I can’t call you Richard.”
He held out his arm. When she placed her hand on it, he moved them into the shadows of the trees. Still visible, but barely. “You still could. Call me Richard. I enjoy hearing you say my name.”
Regret flashed in her eyes. “I would love to, but how could I? We are neither family, nor do we have an understanding.” Meaning they were not engaged.
“We could be.” He was amazed at his own boldness.
A gasp left her. “But your parents … your family’s title?”
“Kenzie James, I have grown to love you with my whole heart and soul. I have tried to convince myself that you would not be satisfied with me. For one thing, we shall only be able to afford a modest living. My father is sure to disown me. But I care not for the money if I have you.”
Tears fell from her eyes. “Richard, I adore you. We could live in a cave and I wouldn’t ca
re.”
The urge to kiss her was overwhelming. But he knew he could not risk it. Not when his heart’s desire was this close. And then there was the issue of her being in mourning. Although, since she was not a widow, they could shorten the period.
“Kenzie, I want to offer you my hand, and my protection. Custom forbids me from asking until your mourning is complete.”
“How long do I have left?” she whispered, longing thick in her voice..
“You have been here over two months. Six weeks is the minimum. If when I returned, your mourning were to be complete ...” he left the thought incomplete.
“Yes! When you return, I will be free to accept you.”
He nodded.
“Tomorrow I will meet with my family and tell them my decision. If you are agreeable, I will resign my commission and return to you a free man. Willing and ready to offer you my hand, if you would accept it.”
“Nothing you could do would ever change my feelings for you. I would gladly accept you.”
Chapter Sixteen
Kent
The servant accepted Colonel Fitzwilliam’s hat and gloves with a neutral expression.
“Lady Catherine is expecting you in the parlor, sir.”
“Very good, Sanders. Have my parents arrived yet?”
“Yes, sir. They arrived half an hour ago.”
Perfect. So his parents and Lady Catherine had plenty of time to discuss him behind his back. He shrugged. Knowing his aunt, she would feel comfortable reiterating every negative and unflattering comment to his face. She was blunt to the point of rudeness. Although she would never tolerate a similar trait in others.
His boots clicked across the hall as he headed to where his judges waited. His mouth quirked, but he was not amused. He had come to tell them that even if he were to be disowned, he would not marry his cousin. Nor would he seek out an heiress just so he could marry for wealth. He would marry for love, or not at all. He hoped the fear for the future of the title would be enough to carry his point home. If it was, he could go back and offer for Kenzie with something more than himself. Either way, she had said she would accept him, and he planned to make her his bride. As soon as he could obtain a special license. Waiting would only give his family time to interfere.
Kenzie. His Kenzie. He had thought the name was absurd the first time he heard it. Now, he thought it fit her. Spunky and unique. And she was his.
Entering the room, he found his parents and Lady Catherine waiting for him. They faced him with cold, angry faces. A letter lay on the table in front of them. His face froze as he noted the signature. Miss Bingley. Why would Bingley’s scheming sister be writing to his parents?
His mother did not make him wait.
“Richard,” she said. He could feel the temperature in the room drop. “I have two questions for you. Why am I receiving letters from a notorious fortune hunter? And why is she writing about your deplorable behavior regarding a Miss James? Whom I hear has no money or family. Surely, you would not seek to align yourself with such a creature?”
Fury coursed through his veins. How dare that woman take it upon herself to warn his family against Kenzie?
“It is unimportant who this woman is,” Lady Catherine interrupted. “What matters is that Fitzwilliam do his duty. It is time he and Anne were married. And if we obtain a special license, they may marry without delay. Then this upstart who dares set her cap at him will have no choice but to relinquish any hold she may have over him.”
“Lady Catherine, I am standing here. Please do me the honor of addressing your comments, as false and malicious as they are, directly to me.”
“Fitzwilliam, you will keep a civil tongue in your head,” Lord Whitehaven glared at his rebellious son. “Your aunt is correct. We must hurry. I had thought to give you until your birthday, but it seems you are unable to make a sensible choice.”
The door opened and Anne slid into the room. Fitzwilliam was concerned at how pale and sickly she appeared. He helped her sit. The three others in the room watched with calculating smiles. He ignored them. In his mind, they had ceased to have any hold on him the moment they began abusing his love.
“Anne, are you well?”
“Yes, Cousin. I thought I heard you arrive and thought you might wish to talk with me.”
His heart lurched. Did she want him to propose? No, they had spoken many times about her wish to remain single. She was only here to offer support, he was sure of it.
“Father. Mother. Lady Catherine. I am sorry that you will not give way on this subject. It was not my intention to break with the family. However, I mean to be understood. I am willing to take that step if necessary.” Lady Whitehaven paled. Lady Catherine and his father, though, their faces grew red with indignation. “I have already made an offer to Miss James, and she has accepted my hand.” Ignoring their gasps and outraged cries, he continued, raising his voice to be heard. “I am in town to resign my commission and see my lawyer regarding a settlement for my bride. I have no intention of wedding my cousin or anyone other than the woman I love.”
They railed at him for quarter of an hour. It was no use. He would not be moved. Only Anne remained smiling.
Fitzwilliam was preparing to walk out when a maid entered, announcing callers. Two matrons entered the room. Ah yes. Mornings were reserved for social calls. He was surprised his parents had planned this meeting when they knew callers would stop by. Their reasoning soon became evident.
“Ah, ladies. So pleasant to see you!” Lady Whitehaven purred, a gleam in her eye. “You know my son, of course? He just became engaged, to Miss de Burgh.”
What? His jaw dropped in disbelief. How could she? Announcing it like that, if he protested it would look like he was crying off. Anne’s reputation would be ruined. And his parents and Lady Catherine were counting on his being too kind to destroy his cousin that way.
He was trapped.
Rescue came from an unlikely quarter.
Anne gave a happy laugh, seemingly unaffected by the news. “Oh, Aunt! I do apologize! When Richard was just saying he was engaged, he did not mean to me!” She leaned towards the guests with a confiding air. “My cousin has met a lovely young girl while visiting the Darcys. He asked her to marry him only yesterday. A love match. Is it not wonderful?” She sighed as if it was the most delightful news she’d ever heard.
The ladies exchanged excited glances. Fitzwilliam could just imagine their whirling thoughts. Who was the mysterious woman who had snared Lord Whitehaven’s bachelor son? They could not wait to leave, probably to spread the news.
It was his cue to make haste. As the ladies were leaving, he leaned down and brushed Anne’s hand with his lips. “You have my eternal gratitude,” he whispered.
“Just marry her soon,” she whispered back. “And promise to be happy.”
“I will, I promise.”
He left without a backward glance. Anne followed. Once the door was closed, she lingered, knowing the situation was far from over.
Silence descended upon the room. “I will see my lawyer immediately. He is no son of mine.”
“Wait,” Lady Catherine ordered. “I know of someone who owes me a favor. If someone were to convince this woman that Fitzwilliam had bowed to pressure and had married Anne, we might be able to pay her to leave. Then he will have no reason not to marry Anne.”
“That’s a fine idea, Sister. But he will be by her side before we could succeed.”
A laugh filled with malice erupted form Lady Catherine. Anne clenched her fists in response. “It’s already being carried out. I sent a rider out early this morning. Miss James will be hearing of Fitzwilliam’s nuptials to Anne within the next two hours.”
“Brilliant,” Lord Whitehaven marveled.
“What if she does not believe it? If she loves him, she might insist on hearing the news from him,” Lady Whitehaven murmured.
A chair creaked. Anne could envision her mother rising majestically from her chair.
“It’
s very simple. Miss James will disappear. And no one will ever find her.”
Horrified, Anne stared at the door. She must stop this. Her cousin deserved to be happy. And so did she.
Chapter Seventeen
Mr. Richard Fitzwilliam. He smiled. His commission had been resigned and he was on his way to see his solicitor. Never in his life could he remember feeling so at peace with his lot in life. And soon his lot would improve. He had been thrifty, and had enough money saved from his years as a soldier to buy a small house. Maybe in Lambton, near Pemberley. He would have to invest in a trade. No help for that. But he was an intelligent man. He had confidence that he would be able to learn a business.
“Richard!”
Startled out of his reverie, he stopped on the walk way and gaped at his brother, Henry, who had yelled at him from his carriage.
“What are you thinking man? Driving so fast? You could—”
He broke off as his brother forcibly opened the door and leapt out. Inside the carriage, he could see Anne, white faced, cringing against the cushions. Anne did not like speed, he recalled.
“Richard, you must accompany us! Anne overheard Mother and Father and Lady Catherine scheming. If we do not hurry, your Miss James might be in danger.”
Fitzwilliam needed no prompting. Rushing past his brother, he entered the carriage. His temper soared as he listened to his cousin’s recounting of what his own family had planned. The break was inevitable now. He could no longer consider himself related to those who would harm his beloved.
“Henry, how came you to be involved in this sorry adventure?”
“Anne did not know where to find you. She arrived at my house and demanded that I save you from our parents’ scheming. The moment I heard what was happening, I knew where my allegiance lay.”
Touched, he realized how little he knew his brother. They had always been separated by their status as first and second son. He regretted that now. “Henry, I do apologize if this will put a strain on you.”
Henry waved a hand. “I am glad to be of service. You know I married for social reasons, Richard. I was not brave enough to risk father’s displeasure. And I do not regret it. I have grown to be excessively fond of my wife. But you have found love. It would be criminal for you not to seize it.”
