her aunt and cousin, a shadow fell over her. She stopped short, glanced up, almost bumping straight into the man who seemed bent on meeting with an accident that would embarrass them both.
His eyes fixed on her face. “Excuse me.”
“Again I am in your way, sir. I should not rush so.”
“Nor should I …”
“I am to join my aunt and cousin, so if you will excuse me.”
He turned and looked over at the lady fast approaching them. “Would you be so kind as to introduce me? After all, I may need to do some explaining to your aunt if word gets out that I almost trampled you.”
Darcy shook her head. “No, you cannot say a word of it to my aunt. You have no idea how fast she can spread a story and how twisted it will be in the end.”
He inclined his head and spoke low. “You spare me, Miss …”
The warmth of his breath caressed her cheek and the tone of his voice captivated her. He stood near and a strange sensation filled Darcy, as if he were meant to be so close, a kind of sentinel over her.
“Dear me.” Mrs. Breese put her fan between them and Darcy stepped back.
“I found one, Ethan.” Daniel Rhendon drew Martha forward, smiling. “And you the other. Mr. Ethan Brennan, may I introduce Mrs. Breese?” Darcy’s aunt dipped with her eyes lowered. “Miss Martha Breese.” Martha mimicked her mother. “And finally, Miss Darcy Morgan.”
A muscle in Ethan’s chest constricted when Daniel pronounced her name. He could not help staring at her face, at its delicate shape; could not help gazing into her vivacious eyes, and comparing them to another pair he knew. “Morgan, you say?”
Daniel gave him a slight nod. “Yes. A fine name for a fine lady.”
The twists of hair that fell over her head and along her throat were tantalizing, and Ethan found himself soaking her in with his eyes, drawing in the essence of her with each breath. Her mouth parted to speak, but faltered. An impression he had no word for suddenly swelled within him as dusky pink swept into her cheeks. He knew then that she was not accustomed to a man’s eyes being so intent upon her.
The temptation to reveal to her the secret he held tittered on his lips. But the oath he had made kept him in check. “The surname of patriots,” Ethan said.
Mrs. Breese sighed with approval. “You know our history, Mr. Brennan?”
“Only what I have read, ma’am.”
When Mrs. Breese extended her hand to him, she bumped into her charge, which caused Darcy to stand closer to Ethan. His hand touched her forearm to steady her.
“I beg your pardon, sir.” Mrs. Breese waved her hand at Darcy. “Darcy, you are too close to the gentleman. Step aside and give him room. You must excuse my niece, Mr. Brennan. She has a tendency to be in places where she should not be. Not that being in your presence is wrong, mind you. It is hot and crowded here on the porch and not suitable for lengthy conversation.”
Darcy’s lips parted when Mrs. Breese took her hand. She turned Martha by the shoulder with the other and slipped off with them into the crowd, to a less populated part of the veranda. When Darcy glanced back, something warm charged through Ethan’s heart. The year before, he had met Miss Roth on a cool summer evening at a social gathering. What he thought he felt was an attachment. But never had his heart pounded like this, nor had his blood raced so heatedly. He’d been wrong that a man could not love a woman at first sight.
She bent her head against the girl beside her. He hoped she was not telling her cousin about the near accident on the hilltop. Was she laughing at him? Forced to linger behind, he looked away, still wondering what this girl thought of him. And now that he had seen her, he could say she was in good health and happy, despite her past.
“Ethan?” Daniel Rhendon stepped alongside him. “You haven’t heard a word I’ve said.”
Ethan looked at him with a shake of his head. “You must forgive me. I was distracted. Yes, your horse is fine, but does not suit me.”
“What’s wrong with him? He’s spirited enough.”
“I’m not the right one to own him.”
“Why?” Daniel looked in the direction of Ethan’s glance. “Oh, is it because of Darcy? That would be nonsense.”
“The horse would remind me of how I