yourself, Aunt Mari. I was so young and do not remember them. You and Uncle Will have been my parents, and I thank God for it.”
“I believe the truth is when Eliza died, Hayward went West to lose himself in his grief,” her uncle said.
“Oh, how romantic!” cried Dolley. Her winsome blue eyes glowed as she clutched her hands to her heart. Dolley heaved the next two breaths while she brushed back her light brown hair from her forehead.
“Romantic?” Mrs. Breese clicked her tongue. “A sad turn of events, shrouded in mystery is hardly romantic, Dolley. There were things said and done we will never know … never.”
Darcy grew silent, for she had nothing she wanted to say that would reveal her own thoughts and feelings on the subject. But within her, emptiness remained.
Her aunt reached over and patted her hand. “Never mind, Darcy. You should not think on such sad things. I’m sorry for mentioning them. Let us return to the Rhendons’ invitation instead. I wager you will catch the eye of many a young man at this event. Perhaps even find a husband.”
Darcy shook her head. “Oh, not me, Aunt.”
“Why not? You are just as pretty as Lizzy and Martha, and I dare say even Abby and Rachel. Dolley is yet too young.”
Darcy disagreed. She thought her cousins were far more attractive. They were enamored with fashion, wore their hair in the latest styles, and always wore stockings and shoes; whereas she cared little for what was in and what was out, wore her hair loose about her shoulders, refused to wear stockings in hot weather, and loved going barefoot in summer.
She stood up and, going to the window seat, leaned on the sill and drew in the air. “If you could have your way, Aunt, you would have us all married by Saturday eve.”
Her aunt sighed. “Well you should have married a year ago. Lizzy and Martha should be married by the year’s end. I was sixteen when I married Mr. Breese.”
Mr. Breese looked over the rim of his spectacles. “Thank you for the reminder, my dear.”
She gave him a coy look in response. “Now, girls,” she went on. “We should look at each one of your dresses to see if they are in acceptable condition for this affair. If they are not we shall see if we can make subtle repairs or changes to them, perhaps add or subtract where needed.”
“Can we not make new dresses? Or go into town and buy new ones?” Lizzy gazed over at Mr. Breese with a demure smile and batted her large blue eyes. Darcy had seen it many times— Lizzy’s attempt to twist him around her finger.
“For all six of you?” Stunned, Mr. Breese lifted his brows. “I am not a rich man, Lizzy. You must make do with what you have.”
The girls pouted in unison, but Darcy rose to her feet and swung her arms around her uncle’s neck. “We shall make you proud of us. Our clothes are just as good as any others, and we should not be judged by what we wear. French fashion is out, since their gentry are wearing sackcloth and ashes these days.”
Mrs. Breese brushed her handkerchief over her neck. “Oh, Darcy. I hope you keep opinions like that to yourself while at Twin Oaks. Many people judge a young lady by the clothes she wears. It says where you fit in.”
“Yes, Aunt.” Darcy wrapped a strand of her hair around her finger. “I hear they have fine horses at Twin Oaks. Do you suppose they shall let us ride?”
Astonishment spread over her aunt’s face. “Certainly not. It would be unbecoming.”
“But ladies ride all the time, Mother,” said Abby. She had not spoken until now, and Darcy smiled. Lately, Abby strove to break out of her shy nature and join in the conversation. She was the politest of young ladies, and in appearance the image of her mother. Horses were her passion, and the idea of possibly riding one at Twin Oaks caused her eyes to light up.
“I do hope the Rhendons allow it, for you especially, Abby,” Darcy said.
“Ladies should not ride horses at country picnics,” said Mrs. Breese. “I will not have my girls racing about the grounds like backwoods bumpkins.”
Lizzy had to inject. “What do you suggest we do, Mother? Sit all day fanning ourselves, melting in the heat, making eyes at the boys?” Each girl giggled, except for Darcy, who smiled.