Beside Two Rivers (10 page)

Missy came through with a tea tray in hand. “The ladies did not stay, miss?”

“No, they had to go.”

“I’ve never seen an English lady before today, and so finely dressed was she and so elegant in her ways. I suppose she was going to visit one of the plantations and was passing by. Does she know you well?”

“No, Missy. She does not know me at all.” Darcy’s breath came up in quick gasps as she hurried up the stairs to her room. She leaned back against the door after shutting it, went forward and lay across the bed, brokenhearted and in tears. After a moment of release, she sat up, wiped her eyes, and looked at the letter in her hand. She broke the seal and scanned the bottom to see his name.

Sitting on the edge of the bed near a window where the sunlight gathered, she noticed the date from Twin Oaks and the time he wrote it—ten to midnight. She was not hungry to read his words. Still, she uttered the first line aloud.

“My dear Darcy, I am returning to England first light.” Then she tossed the page down.

“How can he leave me?” A hundred reasons rose within her. To begin with, she was not English or elegant or rich like Miss Roth. Her mother’s name had been dragged through the mud before him, and he had made a pledge that he was expected to keep, but not noble enough to break when he knew he did not love the lady.

She picked the letter up and decided to finish reading it.

It is with regret, I write to say farewell and to ask that you would forgive me for not delivering this letter into your hand. I could not, for if I had seen your face again, I might have weakened in my decision. I had to consider that to relent would have broken the heart of the lady I had made a pledge to. I now see the wrong I did her in allowing my affections to traverse elsewhere. Upon learning the truth concerning your family, I was forced to examine what an association with you would have meant. I will not deny I felt something for you, but it was a fleeting infatuation. I am bound by my duty and compelled by honor to do what is expected of me. I wish you well.

Ethan Brennan

Her heart withered. “I must let you go,” she whispered. She tossed the missive inside the cold hearth and then set the paper alight. As it caught, her eyes filled. It was not until the letter was lost in the ash that she allowed tears to slip down her cheeks. Outside the door, she heard the tramp of feet on the staircase, the commotion of people downstairs. The Breese clan had arrived home. She wiped her eyes dry and moved away from the fireplace.

Martha hurried through the door. “Darcy, what a day it has been.” She slipped loose the ribbons under her chin and removed her hat. Then she paused before the mirror and tidied her hair. “The booths were full of people at the church fair, the weather being as it is. Papa relented and allowed me to buy a novel. Oh, and Miss Roth’s carriage passed us as we were coming home.” Martha turned to her. “It is odd. Was she here?”

“Yes.”

“And without Mr. Brennan and Captain Rhendon?”

“She came with her chaperone to deliver a letter from Mr. Brennan.”

Martha stood back and observed her cousin. Darcy could not conceal her feelings from one so observant. “What has happened? Why have you been crying? Did his letter cause this?”

“It is too long to explain. I will tell you later.”

“Does it have to do with Mr. Brennan and Miss Roth?”

“Yes. But I am over it.”

Together they sat on the edge of the bed. Her cousin gripped Darcy’s hand. “You cannot be over something like this in a moment. It takes time to get over love lost. It was love wasn’t it?”

A prickle passed over Darcy’s skin and she made a swift turn to her cousin. “No, infatuation.”

“Perhaps on Mr. Brennan’s part. But you?”

Darcy pressed her lips together hard, feeling the swell of anger. “There’s no telling what he felt. All I know is he has rejected me and returned his affections to Miss Roth.”

“Oh, he was cruel to lead you on,” said Martha.

“He did not seem cruel. But I shall not see him again, and now I must forget him. He is only one man, after all.” Her chest felt heavy, pricked with needles. How could she ever put him out of her mind?

Martha stood and walked with a thoughtful scowl over to the hearth and looked down into the ash. “You burned it?”

“I could not keep it, read it over and over, allow it to pain me.” Darcy lay down with her head cradled in her arms.

Martha went to her and stroked her cousin’s head. “Something must have happened to change him. How could he not love you?”

“You mustn’t say anything to anyone. He does not love me, and he will not come to me again. Miss Roth told me the most awful things were said about my parents and that Ethan was appalled. How can it be true?”

“I have no doubt Miss Roth made the whole thing up.”

“The damage is done whether she did or not. But I believe her. She brought Mrs. Mort with her and she testified that all that Miss Roth said was true.”

“Let him go, Darcy. He does not deserve you. Indeed you shall have many beaus. I dare say they shall be lining up outside the door.”

Darcy stood, picked up her horsehair brush and brushed out her hair. “I do not care about that now. I have other things on my mind.”

“Come downstairs. Mama wants us for supper.”

Darcy turned from the mirror. “Promise you will not tell her anything I’ve told you. I do not want her or anyone else to know. If you do, she will keep at me for days wanting to know all the details. And I would not put it past her to convince Uncle Will to ride over to Twin Oaks and confront Mr. Brennan.”

Martha put her hands on Darcy’s shoulders. “I shall be quiet. Is there something else you would like to tell me, perhaps what was said about your mother?”

Darcy shook her head. “Miss Roth gave no details. But it was made clear their feelings about where my family stands— too low for their consideration. Perhaps someday I will prove them wrong.”

Downstairs the family gathered in the dining room. Dishes clattered as the girls talked among themselves. At the other end of the table, Darcy’s aunt unfolded a napkin in her lap. She talked about their journey to town, what had been bought, and how much Darcy had missed out.

“You should not stay at home alone again,” Mrs. Breese said. “Oh, and that Miss Roth. What snobbery. Her rudeness not to pause and speak to us is inexcusable. She rolled straight past us without even a nod. I have not raised my girls to be so snobbish.”

“A waste of time to dwell on it, Aunt.” Darcy lifted her fork and moved the carrots around on her plate.

“Well, I’ll tell you this. I cannot deny how glad I was to hear that Miss Roth and her party are departing our shores and returning to England. I say good riddance to that insipid Miss Roth. I do admit, I thought well of Mr. Brennan and am sorry to see him go. Darcy, you were fond of him. Perhaps you can write to him sometime … but then his wife might not appreciate that. You best not.”

Darcy sat opposite of Martha, with her eyes lowered, her mouth taut, silent while her aunt rambled on. The sound of horse and rider pounding down the drive and halting before their door caused Mrs. Breese to stop talking. Darcy looked up at Martha, and her hopes ran high that it was Ethan.

10

When the front door opened, and Missy could be heard speaking to the rider, Mari Breese rose from her chair and met her at the dining room doorway. She rushed back in, breathless, waving a letter in front of her, as if to calm her beating heart and abate the warm day. “We’ve news.”

Darcy rose from her chair. “Then … it was not Mr. Brennan?”

Mrs. Breese shook her head. “Oh, dear me, no. Why should it be Mr. Brennan? No, a courier has brought two letters from England. Mr. Breese, did you hear me?”

William Breese looked up from his newspaper, then over his spectacles.

Mrs. Breese held the letter out in front of her and studied it. “ ’Tis strange, but this one is for you, Darcy. Oh, I’ve been dreading this day, but here it is. I don’t know whether it is wonderful or distressing. You may go and read it alone or to us aloud.”

“I shall read it alone, Aunt—later.” And she set it down on the table in front of her.

“You should read it straightaway for it comes from your grandmamma.” Mrs. Breese scooped up the letter and handed it back to Darcy. “Now do you understand why I am so distressed? Or is it excitement? I know not which.”

Conceding to her aunt’s wishes, Darcy broke the seal and unfolded the page. Her uncle tucked his inside his waistcoat pocket. Her cousins sat in rapt attention, not moving a muscle or saying a word.

“She wishes me to visit her,” Darcy said as she read.

Moaning, Mrs. Breese sat down in the chair. “I knew it. Finally she’s chosen a time when she is old and ailing to make such a request. Is she ailing, Darcy?”

“She does not say.”

“Why does she not ask for your older cousins? They are her granddaughters, too. Will, why has your mother only asked for Darcy?”

Uncle Will pinched his brows. “I do not know, Mari.”

“Have you slacked in writing to her?”

“I have written to her often. You know that. And I inform her about the girls and how they are doing. It is difficult being so far apart.”

Mari put her hands on her lap. “Perhaps you should have never left England.”

“And missed out on marrying you? I would not change that for the world, my dear.”

“Then why does she not come here instead and live with us? She could have since the war ended.”

“She is old and settled in her home. At her age, to uproot her would be difficult if not disruptive to her health.”

Mrs. Breese wiggled nervously in her seat. “Well, go on and read your letter. It may shed more light on the situation.”

He drew out the letter, positioned his spectacles and read. “Nothing more to add, other than she hopes we are all well. She says her joints are full of rheumatism, and that Langbourne
is taking care of the estate very well.”

“Nothing about sending Martha to her?”

“Not a word.”

“Well, I am glad for it. I would worry so if both she and Darcy left home.”

“No need to worry on that account,” Mr. Breese said, tucking the letter back into his pocket. He drew off his glasses and looked at Darcy. “You are of age, Darcy. The decision is ultimately yours.”

“I suppose I should honor her request,” Darcy said. She looked down at the letter in her hands and thought of Ethan. She might see him again.

Mouths fell open and Mrs. Breese shifted in her chair. “So quick to decide, Darcy?”

“She knows to do the right thing, Mari. It is only natural she should wish to meet her grandmother,” Will Breese said.

“Then I suppose we must send Martha with her. Darcy cannot travel alone. It is too risky.”

Martha looked shocked and upset. “I do not want to go. I would be unhappy in a dark house with an old lady. What would I do there but pine away for home?”

Darcy knew to intercede. “Aunt, Martha has an attachment here, and it would be wrong to take her away from him.”

Mrs. Breese arched her brows and smiled. “An attachment? Who is it? Give me his name, Martha.”

“The new physician, Mama,” Martha replied shyly. “Remember, we met him in church. He is very respectable.”

Mari Breese sighed. “Oh, him. Yes, Dr. Emerson is well regarded, though I have not spoken to him much or seen him for any ailments. So, I suppose you are right. You should stay home, Martha. But Darcy? I shall worry the whole time she is away.”

With a gentle smile, Darcy picked up her aunt’s hand. “I would not want that.”

“I am astonished. You told me over and over you love this place too much to leave it. Do you even understand what this means?”

“Very much so.”

“You would be sailing across the ocean, which is most treacherous and dull.”

“I have always wanted to experience the sea.”

“You would be landing upon a land foreign to you. You do not know the towns there, and how shall you find your grandmother’s house?”

“I speak the language fluently and shall carry a map. Besides, Uncle Will shall give me clear directions—if I decide to go. And there are coaches that take people wherever they need to go.”

Her cousins giggled at her comment. Mrs. Breese scowled at them with a severe frown. “You will no doubt get lost,” she said, turning back to Darcy.

“I have an excellent sense of direction.”

“How does the address read?”

“Havendale, Derbyshire, England.”

Darcy’s aunt pinched her brows together hard and shook her head. “Surely that is not enough. Will, you cannot let her go.”

Darcy rose and embraced her aunt. “If you wish me to stay then I shall.”

Mari Breese blinked back tears. “You are good to not worry me.” She sighed, looking happy she might keep her charge at home.

But Mr. Breese slapped the newspaper down. “You mustn’t decide on your aunt’s account, Darcy. Your grandmother has asked for you, and she must have good reasons for doing so.”

Mari Breese turned upon her husband with a look of disapproval. “I cannot imagine the reasons.”

“Think, my dear,” he replied, folding his paper. He set it aside and looked over at Darcy. “I’d say her life has been lonesome without Hayward. He was her favorite child. I on the other hand was brushed off when I announced my plans to leave for America and study its flora. She thought it a silly idea and that I was too young.”