“I know a gentleman, a colleague of mine, who is leaving for London with his young wife on business. It would be well for you to journey with them. I’m sure his wife would appreciate the company.”
It was happening all too fast. Her mind and her heart churned like the rapids in her river, tumbling with a sudden anxiety of leaving home and the people she loved. And there was the risk that she would meet up with that insufferable Englishman who had tossed her heart to the wind as if it were chaff. She sat still a moment, with her throat tightening, staring at the floor.
“Thank you, sir. It would be a comfort to my aunt if I had someone to travel with, especially someone you know.”
“I shall write to them today and help make the arrangements for you to meet them in Annapolis. Dr. Prestwich is a prominent surgeon there, and his wife, Ann, is very pleasant.”
“I look forward to meeting them, sir.” She curtsied to him, and then when Martha glanced toward the door, Darcy knew to leave the couple alone. She went back into the hallway, heard her aunt fussing out in the kitchen, and sighed deeply. Missy peeked down from the top of the staircase. Her uncle wished to speak to her.
“Do not allow this situation to stop you, Darcy,” he said. “I do not want you to worry. I am feeling better already.”
“You will take good care of yourself and follow the doctor’s instructions?”
“I promise I shall.”
“Well, you shall be happy to know that Dr. Emerson has recommended a very nice lady in need of a traveling companion, and he thinks I am just the person. She and her husband are sailing for England in a few days. He is a respected surgeon.”
She shifted from her chair to his bedside, lifting his hand in hers. “But how can I leave you now?”
“Must you stay with us until we are in our graves? Are you not entitled to a life of your own? Your grandmother shall not live long, so go to her. I shall have a letter for you to give her. I want you to tell her that I have always loved her, and have prayed for her each day since we parted. If she would leave Havendale and come back with you, I would welcome her to live with us. You go ahead and have your adventure. I have the girls to look after me.”
“Are those the only reasons you have to persuade me?”
“You need to find whatever it is God is leading you to, knowing where your roots began and where they must end. From the first moment I saw your curly head at my doorstep, I saw something in you that I rarely had seen in a child your age. You take everything in as if it were a gift. It would be wrong to keep you here.”
Darcy kissed his cheek, and when her uncle had fallen back to sleep, she stepped outside his room and went downstairs. Martha and Dr. Emerson had not been afforded much time together. Darcy’s aunt stood beside Martha with her arm around her, looking out the sitting room window. Dr. Emerson mounted his horse, and after he tipped his hat, he made for the main road.
“It is now a certainty, our income is affected.” Her aunt spoke in a low but trembling voice, twisting a handkerchief between her hands. “It is enough to keep a roof over our heads for some time, I think, but we shall be reduced to a very low condition if your uncle does not continue his work.”
Darcy pressed her lips together and said, “I have faith he shall recover. In this we must be patient, and depend on Dr. Emerson’s skill and God’s goodness.”
Her aunt lowered herself onto the settee. “But if he does not, we shall be forced to live in a small dwelling among the working class. And that is what we shall become—working class.”
Martha picked up her mother’s hand and squeezed it. “You must have more faith than that, Mama. You will not have to leave your home.”
Mari Breese wiped her nose. “Oh, I think I shall. There is little guarantee of anything for me to rely on.”
Darcy gazed into her aunt’s gaunt face. Worry moved within Mari’s expression. There seemed no means to comfort her and waylay her growing anxiety. “Of course there is, Aunt. Remember, I shall not leave thee, nor forsake thee”?