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Authors: Rita Gerlach

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BOOK: Beside Two Rivers
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If only it were so easy.

The heat in the room grew as oppressive as Miss Roth’s words. Whispers rose and she heard the name
Morgan
pass from person to person. People stared—some with disdain, others with curiosity. She questioned why. Had she done something to deserve such looks? Why had her last name drawn this kind of attention, along with Miss Roth’s rude comments?

And so, Darcy slipped between the dancers and headed toward the door leading to the terrace outside. Before she could pass through it, Ethan stepped in front of her.

“It is too fine an evening to leave, Miss Morgan.”

“You will excuse me, sir.” Her voice trembled and the tears that swelled in her eyes burned.

“Once again, I have intruded. I only want to help.”

She gathered her gown in her hands. At every turn, Ethan met her. “I am in need of air, sir.”

“It is stuffy in here … much like my traveling companion Miss Roth.” He moved her to the open door where it was cooler. “I can tell you heard what she said. She was sure to say it loud enough. I am sorry. It was uncalled for.”

His words caused her to smile. “I must praise her that she is not afraid to voice her opinion. But for her rudeness, for speaking what she thinks of me in public, that I condemn.”

“And justly so.”

“I was told Englishwomen are reserved and take care of what they say and to whom they say it. So untrue this must be if Miss Roth is any kind of example of an English lady.”

“She is snobbish. It was wrong of her to insult you the way she did.”

“Indeed, for she does not know me at all.”

“Whether she knew you well or not, it is not her place to pass judgment.”

“She judges me solely upon appearance …”

“Which is lovely, if you do not mind my saying so.”

“Oh, not true, sir, for I am plain. I have not the elegance of your Miss Roth.”

“She is not mine.”

“Oh, yes. As you said before.”

“If you would observe her, Miss Roth’s beauty is pretentious.” He leaned down. “Lots of powder and rouge.”

Darcy’s palms grew moist and she wished she had worn her gloves. The caller announced the next dance. “Please form the set, ladies and gentlemen, for ‘The Flight.’ ”

She knew the tune, the romance of it. “May I have the honor?” Ethan held his hand out to her. And when hers became lost in his, he drew her beside him out onto the floor. Once they faced each other they stood a few feet apart, his eyes resting upon hers. The music drew them near and their hands reached out. His fingers touched hers, and then slid into her hand.

Darcy picked up where they had left off. “I suppose you think flattery will make me forget Miss Roth’s cruelty.”

“Not at all. Flattery does not cure the sting of false words.”

“Then you need not strive for it, sir.”

“Surely an honest compliment helps in some way.”

“I suppose it does. I am grateful God looks upon my heart, and not my outward appearance, and will do so even when I am old and wrinkled from head to toe.”

He faced her smiling, released her hands, and bowed in time with the other male dancers. “I admire your faith. But is it so wrong for a man to marvel at a pretty woman? Are we not to regard God’s creations with awe?”

Darcy fixed her eyes on Ethan with wonder and did not reply. A sensation prickled over her skin and something whispered into her mind,
he is the one
. “I do not know what to think of you, sir.”

Ethan’s stare warmed. “I hope you will think of me as your friend.”

They were silent after that, and when “The Flight” came to an end, Darcy’s aunt came through and bumped into her—again.

“Darcy, we are leaving. I can no longer abide the heat.” Mrs. Breese turned to Ethan. “It was a pleasure to have met you, Mr. Brennan, though I must say Miss Roth was very rude to our Darcy, and I pray she eats her words one day soon, and that you change your mind about her.”

Ethan nodded in agreement. “May I pay a call upon your family before I leave for England? I promise to come alone.”

Mrs. Breese gave him a broad smile. “We’d be pleased if you paid us a visit.”

He looked at Darcy. “And you will be there?”

“Perhaps.” She gave him a coy look and left him in the stuffy, crowded room.

6

A week went by after the gathering at Twin Oaks. The day dawned warm, and by late noon the honeybees played over the zinnias in the garden. So absorbed in the small book of poems she was reading, it wasn’t until Martha’s shadow fell over the grass beside her, that Darcy closed the book and looked up.

Martha sat beside her in the shade. “Darcy, have you wondered if Mr. Brennan will keep his word and visit us?”

With a sigh, Darcy leaned back against the tree. “I have not given it much thought.”

“I do not believe you,” Martha laughed.

“I mean not much thought today.” Darcy ran her hands through her locks with a smile. “I want him to visit us—out of curiosity.”

“I dare not ask for an explanation,” Martha said. “I know he said he’d come alone.”

“I doubt he shall.”

“Surely he will not bring Miss Roth and her little entourage?”

“Miss Roth would not stoop so low as to pay us a call. It is obvious she feels she is too good for us, too blue-blooded to grace us with her imperious self.”

“Perhaps he will bring Daniel Rhendon with him.” Martha looked hopeful.

Darcy reached over and cupped her cousin’s chin in her hand. “Yes, perhaps he will. We shall have to wait and see, won’t we?” She stood and stretched her arms. “I need a walk. Care to come along?”

“Not I. Mother wishes me to wash Dolley’s hair. She got into the honey earlier and how she managed to get it into her hair, the Lord only knows. Do not venture too far. You know how my mother worries.”

“Say nothing to her. But if she asks, tell her I have gone to fetch lady slippers for Uncle Will.”

When she reached the Potomac’s stony shore, she raised her hand above her eyes to spy out the opposite side. She slipped off her shoes, lifted her dress, and stepped into the water. The muddy bottom seeped between her toes. The swirl of water moved around her ankles in time with the sighing breeze.

In the middle of the river, a stretch of boulders gleamed in the sunlight smooth as a ship’s deck. Where she stepped the river was shallow, and she decided she would wade out to the stone ledge, sit upon it and watch the swallows and herons. Reaching it, she pulled up her legs and sat with her arms hugging her knees. The river flashed and murmured, and the sun grew into a great orange orb, surrounded by white thunderclouds.

“Lord, I wish I had someone to share this with.” She dipped her hand into the water and drew it back when a bass nibbled her fingertips. “I suppose the fish and birds will have to do.”

She was over twenty and Darcy wondered if men thought she was homely. Perhaps it was her spirited nature, her love for the outdoors, for trekking the countryside that put them off. She had no dowry to bring to a marriage, and she was orphaned. Those two things alone would make most men look the other way. Whatever caused them not to pursue her was troublesome, for her heart yearned to be loved. Her desires surprised her, for they were as raging as the rapids ahead. Then she smiled and shook back her hair. This is how it is supposed to feel, she told herself, when a woman wants to be a wife and a mother someday.

She dropped her knees and slapped the water with her hand. The confusion that Ethan had brought her was overpowering. Standing, she walked to the edge of the rock. Others were before her, stretching toward the Virginia side but not without a span of water to cross. She put out her arms for balance and then went forward. Here the river flowed deeper than she thought, up to her knees, but no threat. Then it reached her hips, and she pulled her feet up and swam toward the great rock ahead. The river was calm at first but unpredictable. It pulled at her from beneath and she went under.

Panic seized her as the river dragged her down. She jerked her legs free and swam to the surface. She gasped for air and thrashed forward while the current moved her along. She reached the rock and hauled herself up to the edge, gasping for air. It was slick and she lost her grip. The water claimed her and took her into a plane of deeper currents that ran swift. Ahead she saw a fallen tree, and stretching her fingers as wide as she could, she reached for it, grabbed a branch, and hauled herself up against it for dear life. Frightened, she wondered if her time had come, if angels would lift her from the water. Would it be over quickly and painlessly?

She had no fear of entering eternity, but the fear of drowning so young seized her so violently that she railed against it and rallied the fight within her. She gripped the old tree. Her fingers turned as white as the foam in the surge. Her hands shook and her nails dug deep. Shocked by the cold rushing water, she held tighter and looked up at heaven above her.

“You know, God, if you spare me, Aunt Mari is going to kill me.”

Down the river path and under a canopy of trees, Ethan galloped Sanchet. To the right the trees opened and he could see the river clearly. The Potomac flowed in the sunlight, reflecting forest and cliff and seams of an azure sky. Mallards skimmed the shallows, and a blue heron opened its wings and flew from the bank to the opposite side.

Now, to see it for himself, he understood why the river received such high praise, and why those who loved it longed to see it again. Its beauty and peace touched his inner man, and he wondered if he, too, could leave it.

A sudden movement in the trees caused his horse to sidestep. From a willow, a brown hawk mounted the sky like a wind-blown leaf. Ethan watched it soar higher and then dive
with folded wings to an outcropping of rock in the middle of the river.

Sanchet’s mane snapped back in the rising breeze, and Ethan’s eyes traveled from the hawk to a woman clinging to an anchor that could only keep her safe for a few moments. Alarm seized him. Digging his heels into the horse’s sides, he spurred it down the slope to the river’s edge, leaped from the saddle, and yanked off his coat. Without a moment to lose, he hailed her as he rushed to the water’s edge. She turned her head and gave him a weak smile, looking embarrassed and frightened.

“Is that you, Darcy?” he called, a serious panic in his voice.

“It is, sir.” Her soaked dress clung to her shivering body, and she sank further into the water so he would not see. The bronze tresses of her hair floated and swirled around her shoulders.

“What are you doing out there in the middle of the river? You must be a very good swimmer.” Ethan unbuttoned his waistcoat, tossed it down on top of his coat.

“Indeed I am.”

“I sincerely doubt it.” Ethan pulled off his boots.

Darcy thrust her head upright. “I can swim back with no difficulty, Mr. Brennan. If you please, I would prefer that you ride on.”

“Would you?” He hurried out into the water. “I’m coming out to get you.”

“I am capable …”

“Of drowning. I have no doubt this same stubbornness got you in this fix.”

With haste, he plunged into the water toward her, fighting the currents, hoping to reach her in time.

The timber inched away and risked taking Darcy along with it. Fear tightened her throat and shot through her chest. She dug her fingers into the bark not caring how it tore her skin. As soon as the tree broke loose from the rock that moored it, it moved slowly at first. Then the river pulled at her and she slid under the water after her hands lost their grip and the tree floated away.

For her life, Darcy kicked and twisted to gain ground, her lungs ready to burst out the air she held within them. Her head surfaced and she let out a gasp. Ethan called to her and she reached for him against the flow of water. She watched him drag himself head down through the current, his arms battling the river’s power. The moment he reached her, she sank under the water and felt his hands drag her up to the surface. His arm went around her waist and held tight.

“Hold on to my neck and do not let go.” He swam with her beneath his chest held by his arm, her cheek in the curve of his neck. When they reached the shallows, he set his feet into the riverbed. His breathing hurried and his hair clung to his shoulders as he trudged from the river to the shore. He set her down and unlocked Darcy’s arms from
around his neck. Her lips trembled, and kneeling in front of her, he rubbed her hands
within his.

BOOK: Beside Two Rivers
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