Beside Two Rivers (30 page)

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, every starlit night that had come and gone gathered together. Time had passed quickly since the last moment she saw him retreating from her, as she stood at the rail of a ship.

He wished her no more, stopped loving her, and banished her to an unknown fate that promised ill. Darcy, their child, was the property of her father, and she would be denied her, forced to live a secluded, lonely life.

She whispered, “I came to you long ago. Now you come to me. How sad it is—the years that have separated us.”

Ethan touched her on the shoulder. “Who is it, Eliza? What is it you say?”

Her hand covered her trembling mouth. “Oh, sweet Lord.”

“You know those men?”

“I know one man.” She nodded. “It is Hayward.”

A surge of strength passed through her and she dashed from the room, down the staircase with her hand sliding along the railing. She reached the door, Ethan behind her, and flung it open. She stepped out and stood still upon the threshold. Hayward lifted his head and freed from his guardians, fell to his knees before her. The wind swept back her hair, and she stared down into his eyes with all the old feelings of rejection rising to the surface. How painful it still remained that he had not forgiven her for succumbing to another man’s affections and by it bearing a child—a daughter lost so young.

Ethan stood beside her, and when overcome by the sight before her, Eliza’s knees buckled. He held her up and laid her head against his shoulder.

“Eliza is not able to face this, sir. Perhaps you should leave. Return later when she has recovered.”

Hayward’s eyes filled and sorrow covered his face. “Please, young sir. I have come so far.”

Reverend Reed stepped forward. “And he is not long for this world.”

Eliza’s heart plunged to a deeper depth of sorrow. She could not turn her face to look at him and allowed tears to burn her eyes as they had so many times before. “He rejected me and may have had no heart to forgive me. But mine remains true to my husband. Yet, I cannot speak to him now.”

Reed stepped closer. The verger helped Hayward to his feet. “Madam, Mr. Morgan has made great pains to seek you out. He is an ill man as you can see by his countenance. Will you not allow us to bring him inside? He has no other place to go.”

Eliza drew away from Ethan, and took in a deep breath. She moved forward and Hayward reached out, gripped her hand, and kissed it with ardent fervor. Slowly she drew it away.

Ethan helped Hayward stand. “Of course, sir. Bring the gentleman inside.” He aided Hayward through the doorway, while Eliza stood aside.

In the foyer, Fiona stood back with her hand at her throat and her eyes round as saucers. “I cannot believe my eyes. ’Tis Mr. Hayward.”

“A posset, Fiona,” said Eliza. “And anything else you can think of that might give Mr. Hayward comfort.”

Fiona hurried away, muttering beneath her breath and glancing back over her shoulder.

Ethan regarded Eliza with a great deal of anxiety. “Eliza?”

She nodded. “I am shaken, Ethan. I never expected he would come to me. I thought I’d been long forgotten.”

“Obviously not. And this explains the letters.”

“He must have had them with him, and then they were stolen. Do you think that?”

“I do, and you can see he has suffered.” He turned and saw the verger help Hayward to the settee. Reverend Reed crossed the room and drew Ethan aside. Eliza went to Hayward, and picking up a throw that lay across the settee, tucked it over his body.

“Where did you find him?” Ethan asked.

“We were called to Havendale, sir.”

“Then Miss Darcy—why did she not come with you?”

“It is urgent I unfold to you the sequence of events that have occurred this day, sir,” Reed said. “For I believe Miss Darcy to be in a most desperate situation.”

A tremor shot through Ethan. “Tell me, sir.”

“I was requested at Havendale after she sent Mrs. Burke, who told me of Mr. Morgan’s unexpected arrival and condition. Seeing the moment was not to lose, I traveled to Havendale with my verger, Mr. Snead. Miss Darcy would have sent word to
Fairview for you and the lady to come, but she feared Mr. Langbourne would not allow you entrance, and do harm to her father.”

“But why has Darcy not come with you?” Ethan asked once more.

“She was prevented.”

“By whom?”

“Mr. Langbourne.”

Ethan drew in a breath. “By force?”

“You might say that. It was a most startling situation.”

Ethan glanced over at Eliza. Still she had her face turned to the window. There was need for their conversation to be quiet, and so Ethan lowered his voice. “What happened?”

“As we laid Mr. Morgan into the rear of my wagon, with Miss Darcy about to board, Mr. Langbourne burst out into the courtyard with a pistol in hand and with eyes like live coals. I told him to stand down, but he raised his weapon at me and ordered Miss Darcy away. He recognized Mr. Morgan, and as a man of God I cannot repeat the foul words he spoke. With his weapon turned upon the poor man, Darcy hurried to her father and put her body between them.”

Fear rippled cold through Ethan’s body.
Darcy
. No, Langbourne would never have fired his pistol. He looked at Reed with a plea. “She is …”

“Unharmed, sir.”

“Why would he be so cruel and prevent her from leaving? She has done nothing to incite his anger.”

“She has indeed—by harboring Mr. Morgan, whom he despises. Langbourne has set out to reap vengeance upon Hayward and Eliza by keeping Darcy from them. And you, sir, are also on his list of enemies. He said he would do all in his power to dissuade her from you. And, if I may repeat the words, he swore to shoot you like a dog if you were to set foot at Havendale.”

Ethan set his mouth firm, clenched his jaw and fists. “He cannot keep her against her will. I will go to her.”

Reed placed his hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “I wish you godspeed, sir.”

28

Ethan raced Sanchet across the moors. The smooth mounds ascending above the valley shadowed the rocky edges of bluffs on the hillsides. His hands grew slick inside his leather gloves, and the wind cut through his hair, almost blinding him. Sanchet kicked up clots of earth and heaved his girth with the pace of his hooves.

In the distance, Havendale came into view and Ethan’s brow furrowed as his conviction surged through his body. Sunlight flashed over the glass in the windows that faced him and a host of sparrows flew above the chimneys. He’d find her, loose her from Langbourne’s hold, and return to Fairview with her.

Sanchet flared his nostrils, snorted, and flicked his ears. Suddenly a horse and rider plunged around a bend, followed by one other man on a smaller horse. The rider jerked hard on the reins and skidded the black roan to an uneasy halt in front of Ethan. His crony waited beside him. Langbourne stared hard at Ethan, all color washed from his pinched face. The sky grew darker—an ominous sign that came with the breeze and roughened his hair. His large horse snorted at the flap of wings alighting out of the trees behind Ethan.

“Turn back, Brennan. You are not welcomed on my land.”

A muscle in Ethan’s cheek jerked. “How will you prevent me from going on? I am here for Darcy.”

Langbourne sneered as his horse sidestepped. “I forbid you to trespass, and the law says I can shoot any man who does.”

“The law also says a man may hang for kidnapping.”

“You speak nonsense.”

“You deny you are keeping her here against her will?”

“Certainly I do.”

“I have been told what you did, how you kept her back on threat of murdering her father in cold blood.”

“Whoever told you that is an utter fool. Darcy made the choice to stay. She has not resigned herself to a reunion with either parent.”

“I was told differently.”

“She has grown close to her grandmother and will not leave her.”

“Yes, but not at the expense of her parents.”

“Her father is nothing more than a stranger to her. And her mother? Well, Darcy has so little recollection of Eliza. There is no attachment.”

“Is it not time you stop punishing Eliza? You have a wife and owe it to her to let the past die.”

Langbourne steadied his restless horse and laughed. “You know nothing of my wife.”

“I know that she is unfortunate. It is broadly known you have a mistress.”

“You have reminded me, Brennan, the tongue is the weapon of women, cowards, and fools.”

“Truth is the weapon against evil, sir.”

Scarlet rage rose in Langbourne’s face. “You will not turn your horse and leave my property?”

Ethan moved his horse a pace forward. “Let me pass.”

“No, sir!” With angry stares, the other drew up beside Langbourne and widened the barrier between the two men.

“Let Darcy tell me to my face she will not leave with me,” Ethan said.

Langbourne made no movement to stand down. Instead, he stared at Ethan and moved his hand close to his pistol. Ethan knew he was serious and would carry out his threat. It would be better to live for Darcy than to die.

“I will not allow you to go any further,” said Langbourne. “Even so, you would find her gone for all your efforts.”

Ethan clenched his jaw. “What do you mean?”

“I have sent her away.”

“You are a liar, sir. Darcy knew I would be coming for her.”

“Did she? Well, she told me she believes you to be a scoundrel for not telling her about her mother and wants nothing to do with you or her. Can you not see, Brennan? She did not send Hayward to Fairview out of the kindness of her heart. She threw him out, no matter what that vicar may have told you.”

The urge to pull Langbourne off his horse and strike him down raged through Ethan. Was it not time someone humbled him and sent him to wallow in a mud hole, his fine suit of clothes ruined, his pride spoiled?

“And there is another issue.” As if to test Ethan’s restraint, Langbourne narrowed his eyes and said, “You know Hollen was employed by me?”

Ethan smirked. “I do. That is over too.”

“It will never be over.” Langbourne leaned forward, his eyes spiteful. “Darcy will be the blade to twist in their hearts, and in yours—when I have ruined her.”

With those words, Ethan spurred his horse forward and threw his grip onto Langbourne’s coat. Langbourne raised his arm and pushed him back. His servant hurried to his aid. The horses reared, stomped the ground, and twisted. Langbourne’s hand flew to the grip of his flintlock pistol.

Then without hesitation, with no second thought flickering over his chiseled face, Langbourne ordered his man to move away and leveled the pistol at Ethan.

29

A tap, tap on the window stirred Darcy from a restless slumber. No harsh wind, no rain—only a sighing through the eaves of the house. She lay quiet, struggling against weary emotion, aware of the stillness in the house. She sat up, and though the chill in the room struck her, she threw back the blanket from her legs, swung them over the side of the bed, and stood. Despair lingered in her breast and she folded her hands against her heart to pray.

Running her hands across her eyes, she worried about her father and estranged mother, aching for Ethan as her vision cleared, for she had cried herself to sleep. “When he is told what has happened to me, he will come,” she said aloud.

She could not escape the image of Langbourne trudging out into the courtyard with his fists clenched. Hate burned in his eyes as he raised his pistol and swore to shoot her father.
Intruder, trespasser, fiend
, he had called him.

When Darcy stepped between them, Langbourne shoved her aside. Her father cried out and struggled to rise. He shouted to Langbourne not to harm her. Reverend Reed’s verger shielded her father, and Reed rebuked Langbourne for his cruelty while trying to reach Darcy. Langbourne demanded Reverend Reed to remove Hayward, himself, and his verger, off his land. But no amount of stern words could sway him from keeping Darcy back.

The room stood at a high point of the house, on a floor of rooms that had gone unoccupied for years, with only Madeline’s and hers lived in on the eastern wing. Cold and with little furniture, and one window made of rows of diamond-shaped glass laced with black leaded seams, it felt detached from the rest of Havendale.

She rubbed her bruised wrist. In an iron-like grip, Langbourne had pulled her back into the house and up three flights of stairs, thus injuring her. At least he relented, convicted by Reverend Reed’s stern words, and let her father go. But what good did it do to keep her from leaving with him? He railed it was for her own good—and for Madeline. He would not allow her to abandon her grandmother. She had to do her duty. Her obligation was to her—not to the parents who had abandoned her. And how dare she bring into his house a dirty ragtag prodigal, a man who defied the family, who stole Langbourne’s choice, and ran off like a felon to a foreign country?