Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

London, spring

Why on earth is Maria Lucas standing there with the matrons and wallflowers? Colonel Arthur Fitzwilliam wondered. He meant to find out. She should be dancing.

At least he was finally in a position to pursue her.

As the dutiful second son who built a sterling military career, Arthur always assumed he would have to marry into money in order to live comfortably. The deaths of his sickly cousin Anne de Bourgh, followed swiftly by that of his aunt, her mother Lady Catherine, were a sad way to acquire a fortune. Lady Catherine had left the entirety of her personal assets to him, her favourite nephew, including her great estate, Rosings Park. She had never forgiven his cousin Fitzwilliam Darcy for marrying Elizabeth Bennet and had cut him completely, which, grimly, enabled Colonel Fitzwilliam to sell his commission and join the ranks of landed gentry.

Arthur was filled with an elated lightness at the sight of Miss Lucas. He could not fix upon the moment when she started to mean so very much to him. He certainly had not noticed her much on her first visit to Rosings. She and the then Elizabeth Bennet had come to visit Maria's older sister, Charlotte, newly married to the rector at Rosings, Mr Collins. Mrs Collins liked to have her sister visit often, and so he'd had many opportunities while visiting his aunt to observe her, converse with her, admire her.

Love her.

He strategically weaved his way through the stuffy, crowded ballroom, filled with purpose. She had yet to notice him. It appeared to Arthur that not all of her social anxieties had been alleviated by reaching the majority age of one and twenty, and he imagined he could feel her desire to become invisible.

Gritting his teeth, he cast his ambitions aside and once again assumed the role of Teasing Elder Brother Figure. He thought this role had progressed to Safe-to-Flirt-With Friend, but seeing her discomfort, he was determined to put her at ease.

"Miss Lucas! It's been an age since we last met! How do you do?" Dare he hope she looked pleased to see him?

"Colonel Fitzwilliam! Oh, I beg your pardon. Am I still to call you Colonel?"

Arthur smiled warmly. "It is customary, yes. Although," he leaned closer, "you could call me Arthur."

"You know I cannot!" She laughed, and her face was prettily transformed. She returned his greeting, and they caught up on pleasantries and family news. He learned that she was staying in town with Darcy and Elizabeth, along with Elizabeth's younger sister Catherine Bennet, Miss Lucas' closest friend. The family was in London to prepare for Miss Bennet's wedding at Pemberley, planned for late summer. Miss Bennet was engaged to Major Pearce from Arthur's own former regiment.

Lines of couples were forming on the floor for the next set. As much as Arthur wanted to keep her all to himself, he decided to stay in character, wanting to help her feel at ease and enjoy the ball. He made a slight bow and asked, "Miss Lucas, might I have the honour of this dance?"

She smiled, looking slightly embarrassed by his formal attention, yet pleased. Maria placed her gloved hand in his offered palm.

The set was long and the figures simple, but she danced with ease and grace, clearly enjoying herself. When the pattern took them to the bottom of the long line of couples and they were the 'odd couple out', he had the time to look about him and notice that Miss Lucas was finally receiving some interest.

He was satisfied with his efforts. Now that others had noticed her bright eyes, cheeks flushed with pleasure, and ready smile, she would not want for partners much longer. Yes, he had done his duty, but his chest constricted with something ugly like possessiveness—or jealousy. Arthur pushed those dangerous feelings aside and resumed his role.

"You look exceedingly well this evening, Miss Lucas. Indeed, you are looking quite lovely." How sincerely he meant those words yet hated that he could not deliver them in the manner of an earnest suitor. And she did look lovely, with her wheat-coloured hair done in a flattering style, rich blue eyes, and an elegant gown of ivory silk.

She blushed and thanked him just before the pattern pulled them into the figures of the dance again. With every grasp of their gloved hands, every time their eyes met, Arthur was more and more certain that his destiny was to have Maria Lucas forever by his side. But would she ever see him as more than what he was now, a familiar face, a casual friend? Could she possibly ever love him?

Maria Lucas often found it hard to breathe when she was near Colonel Fitzwilliam.

Their encounters had only been occasional in the years since her sister had married Mr Collins. Sometimes he'd been present when their party was invited to dine at Rosings. Maria's connection to the Bennet family, and by extension the Darcy family, had created other opportunities to meet at Pemberley or in London.

The gregarious gentleman had always been caring and thoughtful, sometimes even casually flirtatious. She knew of course, that it meant nothing to him, just idle amusement and perhaps a kind gesture. Most often, he conducted himself as if he were an elder brother, or how she imagined an elder brother would act. Her own brothers were all younger than herself. He was nearly twelve years older than she, but that was not so very much, was it?

Stop it, Maria! He was more out of reach now than he ever was, since inheriting his late aunt's estate.

What was it about this man that had her befuddled and breathless every time they met? He was certainly well put together, but there were handsomer men in the room. Colonel Fitzwilliam was not tall, but taller than herself. Not dark, but rather medium in every feature. It was his essence more than his looks. His face was animated, his eyes kind, his smile sincere. He always seemed to know just the right thing to say or do in any situation, which had certainly aided her a number of times. Maria often found herself nervous and shy in unfamiliar social settings, but never if Colonel Fitzwilliam was around.

There was, quite simply, something invisible that kept pulling her to him.

Fancy was one thing; every girl had a man in her life that she rather fancied, even if a match was impractical. Love was something different altogether, and she must never admit to loving him. Her heart would surely be broken.

During their dance, he was looking so warmly at her, and so intensely, that for a moment, Maria thought perhaps… No. She must not let such thoughts overwhelm her.

All too soon, the dance was over. She curtsied, and he bowed deeply over her hand. Was it her imagination, or did he linger a bit longer than necessary? Was his hold not a little tight? Was his thumb really caressing her fingers, ever so gently? Her breathing hitched, and she swallowed, hard. Maria managed to thank him before nearly stumbling on her way to find Elizabeth.

Heavens above, pull yourself together!