or rather, could she be Mrs. Brennan? Not a sign of her.
What did I expect? I knew the possibility of meeting him again. Only this time it would be in a room full of people.
Discreetly, not to show her emotions, she lifted her gaze. Several ladies in finer gowns than hers sat near. He kept his eyes fixed on the singer, and Darcy saw how moved he was by the music. Can any woman, other than I, see so deeply? He is pained by my attitude toward him. He must feel it as rejection. Help me, God, to mend what I have done to him.
A brooding look shone in Ethan’s expression, as if each note the singer sang had sunk into his being. He was dressed much as he had been the day she met him at Twin Oaks. His hair, cut to his collar, caught the candlelight and wisped over his stark white neckcloth. His coat and breeches were black, his waistcoat dark blue.
When the singer concluded, Darcy heard a woman say to another, “If I did not know any better, I would say an American just entered the room.” Eyes turned her way.
“Where? Oh, yes. You can tell by her gown. Such a simple country fashion.”
“Madeline Morgan’s granddaughter, I suspect.”
Darcy gave the women a sidelong glance, and saw that they were the same age as her mother would be, with gray elflocks that flowed over one shoulder, and smiles that feigned sincerity. She turned to face them, inclined her head with a short curtsey, and they, looking impressed, nodded.
She chose to accept their comments as compliments. Yet, she knew then and there that gossip would flow among the company tonight, and she hoped no one would besiege her with questions. Unless, of course, they had something to say that would enlighten her regarding her parents.
Ethan turned his eyes to hers and she felt as if she’d fall to pieces when they met. Mrs. Brighton leaned toward her ear.
“Is not Mr. Brennan dressed fine tonight?”
“Yes, perfectly.”
“We invited his boarder—I know nothing else to call her by. But she will not attend. No one ever sees her. I am thinking she is a sickly person and that is the reason she is so secluded.”
“His boarder, Mrs. Brighton?”
“Yes, his governess as a child. So do not fear. You have no rival.”
“I see,” she said, relieved, but searching for the proper words in response.
“You know I have not once met her in all these years we have been in Derbyshire. It is my understanding she does not enjoy social gatherings. But I am glad to see Mr. Brennan has come. It was all very odd at Havendale when he spoke to you. And then you seemed so unnerved. What was it?”
Darcy listened, yet kept her eyes on Ethan’s. “Nothing really. We had met once before, when he had come to America with his intended, Miss Roth.”
“Miss Roth, you say.” Mrs. Brighton laughed. “No need to worry on that account either. I hear he broke off all contact months ago.”
“Then they are not married, or to be married?”
“Goodness, no. It is rumored his heart is wrung to another, and Miss Roth, it is said, placed her affections elsewhere.”
“She did not deserve him. She did not love him deeply enough. I am glad Mr. Brennan is rid of her.”
“Love is all well and good. But without money, how can one live happily?” Mrs. Brighton drew Darcy closer with a tug on her sleeve. “He is coming this way. I shall leave now.”
She stepped away, and Darcy swallowed hard as he approached. She had no idea what to say to him. He bowed short. “Miss Darcy. Are you enjoying the music?”
“Yes, thank you, Mr. Brennan. It is my first time.” He is not married. Did she break his heart? she wondered.
“I imagine you have little of this type of culture along the Potomac.”
“You are correct, sir. But the birds make up for the lack of music made by human voices.”
The musicians struck up again, and the singer won the attention of all. Enraptured, Darcy hung on to every note, every word, and allowed the music to sink deep within her. The romance of the aria drew her and Ethan nearer, and as the song came to a close, he leaned down and whispered in her ear.
“It ends, I want to crown you with roses.”
A rush of heat swept through Darcy, quickening the beat of her heart and the heave of her breath. With her eyes