No longer did she wear her hair tucked beneath a mobcap. It hung clean and fixed in soft ringlets, pulled back from her face by a satin ribbon. Today her eyes were bright as the amethyst at her throat.
Eliza’s fingertips touched the pear-shaped gem and smiled. “I will give this to Darcy when I see her, Ethan. Hayward said the color matched my eyes.”
“She will treasure it, I’m sure.”
“Still, I wish you would use this to pay Hollen.”
He kissed her cheek. “No.”
“But if it will help …”
“It isn’t necessary.”
They went together into the small sitting room to talk. Eliza sat down close to the window. Ethan noticed how she glanced outside, as if she were expecting someone. He sat down in an overstuffed chair across from her.
“Hollen handed over the remaining letters and promised to quit his association with the person who hired him on pains of arrest.” He drew the letters from his inside pocket and handed them over.
Her eyes filled. “Praise God.”
“Yes, an answer to prayer. Hollen was pleased with the amount I offered, that it was enough for him to leave Derbyshire, hopefully never to return.”
“I had written them so long ago. That they even remain to this day is a miracle.” Eliza looked over at Ethan. “I will be able to give them to Darcy from my own hand. Then she will see after reading them how much I loved her, how much I missed her.”
Ethan went on to tell Eliza about his ride over to the inn where he discovered Hollen was staying, an ancient place made of stone, pitted windows, thatched roof, that smelled of rum and ale, tobacco smoke, and English cookery.
“There is an inn of that kind along the Potomac trail. I wonder if it is still there.”
“Most likely it is.” He stood when Fiona stepped into the room. “Is my coat dry?”
“That it is, sir. And I brushed it down. You will look fine for Miss Darcy.”
“You are going to Havendale today?” Eliza said, her eyes bright.
“Yes, and I will be bring Darcy back with me.” He bent down and picked up her hands. “Do not worry. She will love you as before.”
Fiona laughed and smacked her hands. “Eliza, my girl. God has answered all our prayers.” Eliza wiped her eyes. Fiona’s smile fled and she scanned the room. “Oh, I best get into the kitchen and make a huge supper for us all.”
As Fiona bustled to the door, Eliza called to her. “We must have apple tansy. It is Darcy’s favorite.”
“I will make the best apple tansy this side of the continent, my girl.”
Eliza proceeded to the door ahead of Fiona. “Not without my help. I shall not sit idle knowing I am soon to see my Darcy again. Everything must be perfect.”
A smile he had not seen in Eliza since his father had passed away lit her face. Grates and jangles could be heard coming down the drive. The sound drew Ethan to the window. “Surely Hollen has not changed his mind and dared to return with more demands. I’ll thrash the little beggar,” he said.
Eliza paused at the door. She laid her hand against the jamb and listened. Then she turned. A feeling seized her heart. It seemed familiar, like the moment she saw Hayward riding his horse down River Run’s dusty lane toward her after the war. He’d come back to her battle-scarred, starved, his face worn but shining bright as the noonday. She joined Ethan at the window to see a pair of men alight from a wagon and then move to the rear and aid another from it.
Islands of gray parted in the sky. Mist clung to the earth, and she wiped her eyes thinking it were her vision. But the mist remained and strengthened as tears welled. Scarcely breathing, without motion, she watched on. With great care the two men held the one who struggled to find his footing. She could not see his face, for it was bowed against his chest. But something within said she knew the man. His hair, aged silver, hung loose about broad shoulders, broad shoulders that reminded her of …
He looked up, caught her gaze, and Eliza’s heart throbbed. She gripped the windowsill, and it rushed through her the identity of the man she beheld. To cry out, to shout his name, stuck in her throat. Her feet became weights and she could not move. Tears escaped her eyes, drifted down her cheeks. Every sunrise, every scarlet dawn,