by RITA GERLACH
Darcy nodded. “Is it an older lady with hair streaked gray?”
“No, she’s young, miss. She has a servant with her who is much older though.”
“Hmm. Miss Roth, I wager.” Drawing back her shoulders and lifting her chin, she opened the door and walked into the room. It was as she predicted.
Miss Roth and her chaperone had made themselves comfortable in her aunt’s best chairs. Dressed in taupe silk with a striped underskirt, she blended with the beige fabric covering the seat. Slipping loose the ribbon tied beneath her chin, she removed her hat and placed it on the table beside her.
Still the same unbecoming hairstyle, thought Darcy. A knot in the back with tight curls framing the pale oval face made her wonder if the severity of it gave Miss Roth headaches.
Darcy turned her eyes to the chaperone who shadowed Miss Roth. How annoying it must be to have someone looking over one’s shoulder, not having a moment alone to oneself. Mrs. Mort was a short woman with a full bosom and broad face. Her features were strong and suggested she might have been pretty in her youth. Her air reserved, she sat motionless with her hands folded in her lap when Darcy stepped inside.
Miss Roth lifted her head, and a labored smile raised the corners of her petite mouth. “So, this is the Breese home,” she said. “I had wondered what it would look like. It is very quaint and cozy.”
“Modest to what you are accustomed to, Miss Roth?” Darcy closed the door behind her.
Miss Roth glanced around the room. “My father’s estate in England has a small cottage much like this one where our groundskeeper lives with his wife and children. Our home is very grand, with large rooms and plenty of staff. I had expected to find many servants here, but you have only one that I can tell.”
“Missy is all we need.” Darcy lowered herself into a chair opposite Miss Roth.
“Still, I do not know how your poor aunt does with just one. It must be laboring for all of you.”
“We manage very well. Idleness is not a privilege to us.”
“What you refer to as idleness, we refer to as leisure. It is one of the benefits of being wealthy or upper class. I thank my stars for it, for I can do as I please when I please. And my hands are soft and white, whereas I see yours are not. It is such a shame, Miss Darcy. Have you been working in the garden? Is that how your acquired such rough skin?”
Darcy glanced down at her hands, then back at Miss Roth. “Yes, as a matter of fact I have been tending the garden—and feeding our chickens and geese, something I can never imagine you doing, Miss Roth.”
Miss Roth looked mortified. “Really? You feed animals?”
“We cannot let them starve. Tell me, Miss Roth, have you any knowledge of gardens, or of chickens or geese?”
“Only that gardens provide flowers, and chickens and geese eggs and meat,” she answered. “There is no need for me to know anything other than that. My father’s estate has an ample garden, and our cook roasts fowl to perfection.”
“I suppose you will be returning home soon.”
“Very soon. I confess that I had hoped our journey to Virginia would have been a honeymoon. But it was best to wait and travel with companions. I shall plan a wedding when I return.”
Darcy forced herself to speak with courtesy. But her desire to escort Miss Roth out grew to a fevered pitch. Why she had to rub in any details of a wedding was beyond Darcy. “I see. What delayed it?”
“Oh, this and that. I was so pleased Ethan agreed to accompany us to America as our protector, and at the last minute. He assured me his acceptance of Daniel’s offer was so he could buy a Virginia mare.”
Mrs. Mort choked, pressing a lace handkerchief to her mouth. Her face turned scarlet, and Darcy called for Missy to bring a glass of water. It did some good, but Mrs. Mort looked at her charge with a shake of her head. “I do not believe he meant to imply …”
Miss Roth held her hand up to stop her. “Now that Mrs. Mort’s interruption is calm, I must tell you I rejected the first mare. But then he chose the prettiest brown mare I have ever seen just to spoil me. It is only ladies of quality who deserve such a fine horse. I daresay there are no horses here that could stand up to my brown mare.”
Darcy marked Miss Roth’s needling and kept herself composed in the face of insult. “It was kind of him, but I understand Ireland has fine horses and the English prefer them to ours. You could have saved yourself a long journey by going there instead.”
“That is indeed true, but after Daniel described his family’s horses and the beauty of the Virginia countryside, we could not resist. I shall be the only person in our neighborhood to have a Virginia mare. My dear papa shall be pleased and breed her with the best of his own stock of English stallions, and his opinion of Ethan will certainly broaden.”
“Your father had not a great opinion of Mr. Brennan before?”
“Not a great one, but that is his way. He is skeptical of everyone, and would prefer Ethan to be extremely wealthy and titled. But one cannot have everything they desire in a mate. But he does own Fairview, a lovely property. And I have every confidence in Ethan that he shall prosper. Papa thinks he has plenty, but Ethan has told me we shall be poor until he builds up the estate. When we do marry, I shall remove all persons from under his roof who are unnecessary. That will save him a great deal of money.”
“It seems odd that your father would agree to you marrying a man he does not particularly like.”
“Oh, you interpret my words wrong, Miss Darcy.”
Mrs. Mort again coughed, and Darcy glanced over at her. Did Miss Roth have another meaning to her words?
“Then he does have a great opinion of him?”
“More than I have let on.”
“Tell me, Miss Roth. Why have you come? You were the last person I expected to see.”
“To speak to you to clear the air.”
“Well, say on. I am sure you do not wish your time wasted.”
“Indeed I do not. It concerns Ethan.”
Darcy paused a moment then asked, “He is not sick, is he?”
With a lift of her hand, Miss Roth laughed. “Oh, no. He is very well. I have come to tell you, to assure you, that he and I have had an understanding these last two years, despite what he may have told you.”
Her stinging words caused Darcy’s heart to sink. A third time, Mrs. Mort coughed into her handkerchief, and Miss Roth glared at her. “Must you do that, Mrs. Mort? It is so disruptive.”
Mrs. Mort finished off her water. “I beg your pardon.”
Miss Roth turned to Darcy. “I have forgiven him that you, Miss Darcy, distracted him. Though I cannot understand why, except to say that your exotic ways may have tempted him and caused him to be curious. You have no fortune, no family of any consequence, and live in this wild country.”
Darcy felt her face flush with the insult. She pushed it back, deep down, and strove not to show it. “Fortunes can fail, Miss Roth. As for my family, we are well respected. My aunt guides the ladies in our church charities. My uncle is a botanist. My cousins are fine young women.”
Miss Roth shut her eyes, took in a breath, and opened them again. “Did Ethan make you think he had feelings for you?”
“You have expressed that he could never have feelings for someone like me. The question is insignificant.”
“I pray that is so, that he has not made any promises he cannot possibly keep.”
“He has made none.”
“I am glad to hear it. Ethan is not easily swayed by forwardminded women such as you may be.”
“Your accusation is offensive,” Darcy said. “Did you come here to wound me, Miss Roth?”
Those insipid eyes looked back at Darcy, masked with cynical concern. “I say this not to hurt you, but to be truthful. This may be the way girls are raised here, so I do not hold you accountable.”
Gathering up the fabric of her dress, Darcy squeezed it. “I do not seek your opinion of me, Miss Roth. Your assessment of the kind of person I am is unimp
ortant to me.”
“And I care not to offer it any further than I already have,” Miss Roth replied. “Yet, we must both agree that Ethan is a man, and being such as his nature may lead him, he may have given over to infatuation which caused him to forget himself. The temptation may have risen out of mere curiosity to compare the two of us.”
“If Mr. Brennan has been drawn in by me, and if I have been deceived by him, then you have nothing to fear. But he did say to me that he had no true attachment to you.”
With a click of her tongue, Miss Roth shifted in the chair. “Oh, that is simply not true. Tell her, Mrs. Mort.”
Mrs. Mort drew her handkerchief away from her mouth. “It is simply not true indeed, miss. A promise is a promise, and Mr. Brennan and Miss Roth are intended for each other.”
Miss Roth gave Darcy a haughty smile. “I am sorry, but you must have misunderstood him.”
“Then I am sorry you would set your heart upon such a man who would be unclear about his attachments to you, who would allow himself to court another’s feelings behind your back.”
“Ethan is the most honorable of men. He was drawn away, that is all. You look astonished, Miss Darcy. I suppose you are not acquainted with the ways of the world, not to have known how a man’s passions can lead him astray. It happens all the time.”
Darcy could not let the comment go by. “Do you love him?”
Miss Roth answered with a long breath. “Of course I do. And I pray you do not come between us.”
Darcy looked away. “I have no intention of it.”
Miss Roth picked up her hat. “Good. I do not wish to see you heartbroken and for that reason, I urge you to forget him. It is fortunate for you we are leaving Virginia.”
All dreams of belonging to Ethan died. Darcy’s heart was run through by Miss Roth’s sharp words. “You are making this more than it is,” she told her. “I have not stolen him from you. You have said he is a man of his word, giving you no reason to fear that he shall come to me. As I reminded you before, you have said I am of no importance in the world.”
“We must all accept our place … Here, he has penned you a letter and wished me to give it to you.” She drew it out of her reticule. “It is the least I can do.”
Downcast, Darcy looked at the letter in Miss Roth’s hand. “Why did he not come and speak to me himself?”
“He did not have the determination. Men cannot bear women’s tears.”
Tears? He’d see none from her that day or any day. Darcy took the letter from her rival. “I am not so weak or so smitten that I would cry. You can tell him that, Miss Roth. Tears should not be wasted on insignificant matters.”
“Oh, I doubt your words immensely, and I have one last thing to tell you. I have a sizable dowry. I would think you have little to none.”
Darcy had had enough, and though she tried to stay composed and a step above this distasteful person, she could no longer abide her. “It would be better if he were poor than marry you. You are selfish and arrogant, Miss Roth, and most certainly you would plague his heart out.”
Miss Roth leapt from her seat. “How dare you!”
“I do dare.”
“Did you dare to tell him your family history? I did not think so. But then you may not know it yourself. Perhaps it has been kept from you so not to cause you embarrassment.”
“I do not know what you mean.”
“I mean that Mrs. Rhendon has confided in us. She did not wish to see Ethan make a mistake. Once he was told about your mother’s indiscretions it was clear to Ethan he mustn’t see you again. If he did, it would bring a great deal of disgrace if others were to discover all this.”
“You have been told wrong. My mother was a good woman.”
“Good women are not immune from sin. Let us end our talk amiably, and do wish me well, Miss Darcy. I am to be married to a fine man.”
“I will go to him and explain. It is a lie.”
“You would be wasting your time, and it would be forward of you.”
“Ethan will listen to what I have to say, instead of the heartless gossip that has been viciously spread.”
“I’m afraid there is no persuading him. It is best you forget. Surely there is a farmer near here who needs a wife.”
Darcy stood. “You are cruel, Miss Roth. I knew you hated me the moment we first laid eyes on each other. I am no threat to you.”
“I would despise any woman who set her cap for the man I mean to wed. You would want him to break his word.”
“If it meant saving him from the likes of you, then yes.”
“You care nothing for lineage or status, or that your family has a good name? You care nothing that these events could cause a scandal? You are a disgrace. I hope the same happens to you and you see how it feels.”
“It is unbecoming in a lady of your standing to insult me and wish me such ill will, especially in my own house.”
“Well, it matters not what you say, think, or do. We are to leave for home tomorrow morning, and when we arrive in England, Ethan and I will be wed.” She turned to her chaperone. “Tell her, Mrs. Mort.”
Mrs. Mort nodded and leaned forward. “We shall all be happy to put our soles on English soil again.” She then turned her eyes away from Darcy’s.
“Since you are leaving, why did you bother to come tell me all this? It would have made no difference.”
Miss Roth looked at her with fake sympathy. “I always have to have the last word.” With not another spoken, the pair walked out. Darcy would not see them to their carriage. She heard it drive away and went out into the hall. The sun streamed through the windows, and she thought of the moment she and Ethan had stood there together. She was hurt that he would play her, hurt that Mrs. Rhendon had gossiped about her family, insulting them, inflaming disgrace. But there was nothing she could undo about what had been said.
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 missiv
e 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?”
