remember it. And you are good to remind me. I need to put my trust in the Lord and not worry so much. But it is hard for me, Darcy.”
“You have your children.”
“Yes, and I must release you to your grandmother. You may become so dear to her that when she dies, or perhaps before that, she will provide money that you may send home. I know it is selfish of me to say, but it is a possibility—and if not for us, then for you.”
Darcy sighed. “You’ve worried over me all these years, and now you are settled that I go to England to people who are strangers to me?”
“Not all strangers. Indeed not. There is Mr. Brennan and Miss Roth. They live in the same county as your grandmother. When they hear of your arrival, they will call upon you, and that way you shall be introduced to other families in the area, and have no lack of acquaintances. The English love balls and gatherings, you know. You shall make many friends. Oh, I do envy you in some ways.”
The mention of Ethan, his face coming up in her mind, caused her heart to ache. “It does not matter whether I see Mr. Brennan or Miss Roth. We were not friends when they left.” She stood and walked over to the window. “I should like to see the house my father was born in, and the land of my ancestors. I should like to see my grandfather’s vicarage where my mother grew up, and the church where he preached.”
“That is a grand attitude, Darcy. I shall write to Dr. Emerson’s friends right away. He told me of his suggestion.” She stood and went to her writing desk, rummaging through the middle drawer for paper.
A gentle smile tugged at Darcy’s mouth. She stepped from the room, and donning her broad-rimmed hat, headed for the path beside the house that led down to the river. Over roots and stones she went, pausing to pick up pebbles that caught her eye. She placed five smooth stones in her pocket to take on her journey as reminders that she could slay any obstacle that would rise up against her.
At last a reply had come that Darcy would have a pair of travel companions to watch out for her. Their letter emphasized how pleased they would be to have her company. On the day when the wagon was brought around to the front of the house to take Darcy down to the ferry, she put on a brave face. The driver, Mr. George, who had been her uncle’s neighbor for fifteen years, put out his hand for her to take in order to step up.
“Good morn to ye, Miss Darcy,” he smiled. “’Tis a fine day for travelin’.”
“It is a glorious day, Mr. George.” Darcy’s stomach churned from both fear and excitement. She gripped the handle of her traveling bag and swallowed the lump in her throat. “I will take every inch of it into my mind, so as not to forget home and my river.”
“Ah, that will be nice, miss. I was down at the river this morn, and caught a string of fine bass.” He reached back and pulled them out of a bucket. Then he handed them to Missy. “You cook them up for the family, Missy. Fish will do them all good.” The catch was happily accepted.
Unbidden tears were in Darcy’s eyes when she kissed her aunt and cousins goodbye and climbed into the rear of the wagon. Mr. George helped her uncle into the seat beside him. “It is good of you to drive for us, George,” he said.
“Your good lady made it clear you can’t do much of anythin’, Mr. Breese. I am glad to be of help.” And he clicked his tongue and the horses walked on.
Mrs. Breese stood out on the lawn, silent and forlorn with her daughters gathered around her. She lifted her handkerchief and waved, then wiped the tears falling down her cheeks and dabbed her eyes. Darcy buried her sorrow over leaving, raising her hand and smiling back at her aunt and the girls, who were more like sisters to her than cousins. She wondered what would become of them while she was away. Would Dr. Emerson and Martha wed? Would Lizzy? And would her dear Uncle Will grow strong again?
Questions about the future swam in her mind. She looked away from the house she had known all her life. It grew