“The meadows are full of them. And my favorite, lady slippers, grow in the woods.”
Darcy’s pocket sketchbook sat on her bedside table and she opened it. She already had several pencil drawings to show to the family back home. God willing, I shall have one of Fairview before I return to my river.
She hoped she would leave Derbyshire long before spring, in time to see the wildflowers in bloom along the river, the return of the waterfowl, and the newborn fawns. She thought of the dogwoods and their white petals, the snowy blossoms of wild blackberry.
She closed the book and set it back. “Mrs. Burke, do you know if my grandmother has a book of England’s flowers in the library?”
“I believe she does. I’ll dig it out for you.” Mrs. Burke picked up her candle. “Perhaps when Mr. Langbourne returns he could escort you.”
“Has he gone?”
“Hmm, but to where I am not sure.”
“Charlotte has left as well?”
“She has. I suppose she told you how much she loathes this part of Derbyshire.”
“Indeed, she made sure of it. I am sorry for her that she does not love Havendale. It is peaceful place.”
“Sometimes too peaceful.”
“I cannot bear the city, and my ways are not as refined as Charlotte’s. Perhaps it was because of me she left.”
“I do not believe so. She never stays long at Havendale and visits but twice a year.”
Darcy drew up her legs, wrapping her arms around her knees. “Charlotte seems so sad, and he so removed from her.”
“It is his way,” sighed Mrs. Burke.
“Do you think it would be all right if I rode Grandmother’s mare tomorrow?”
“I do not see why not. Mr. Brighton said she is as fit as a fiddle.” She paused before shutting the door and said, “I’ve heard that Mr. Brennan is a bold rider.”
“Yes, I am aware of Mr. Brennan’s bold riding,” said Darcy.
“You’ve met him before?”
“Yes, back home. He’d come to stay at a plantation across the river. I do not wish to talk about it.” Darcy saw the look of curiosity in the woman’s face and smiled. “I’ve presented a mystery, haven’t I? You must excuse me for it.”
Mrs. Burke let out a chuckle and shook her head. Her cap shifted and she tucked her stray locks back. “Oh, Havendale has its own mysteries, Miss Darcy. You can be sure of that.”
The door closed and Darcy turned to her candle and blew it out. Havendale held an air of secrecy. Secrets that were tucked away in the memories of its living inhabitants, gone to the grave with the rest—she knew she would never know why. When the flame was extinguished, blue moonlight poured through the lattice window and touched upon her face. Shadows crossed the ceiling above her to intrude upon the misty light that washed the room. She closed her eyes, folded her hands, and pressed them to her lips.
“Whatever secrets Havendale holds, whatever mysteries are hidden within its walls, please do not allow curiosity to keep me from returning home, dear Lord.”
Long after Mrs. Burke had left, and the quiet in the old house deepened, Darcy heard footsteps in the hall, then another knock on her door. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and drew the robe her grandmother had loaned her over her shoulders. Was she to get no sleep this night?
With candle in hand, she opened the door. In the gloom stood Mr. Langbourne, leaning against the jamb, still in his black greatcoat. Surprised to see him, Darcy stepped back.
“I saw your candle through the window as I came over the hill. I need to speak with you.” His stare traveled from her face down her throat. She drew her robe closer.
“Is there something wrong that you need to speak to me about at this hour, Mr. Langbourne? Can it not wait until morning?”
“I would not have bothered to ask if I had no reason. Come downstairs to the library.”
Darkness swallowed him up as he drifted away, and Darcy followed him. A low fire crackled in the hearth set in the center of the north wall of the library. The room, paneled in dark walnut, smelled of old books and dust. Langbourne sat in a chair, still booted and mud-spattered from his ride.
“Close the door, Darcy.” She hesitated, but obeyed. “Sit down. Here in the chair opposite me.”
As Darcy lowered herself into the stiff armchair, Langbourne’s eyes locked onto hers. He shifted to one side. “I