Darcy believed that she might find the guidance she needed there and that it would become clear what path she must take. Loneliness engulfed her whenever she thought about her future, but she reminded herself that now she was a free woman and could choose her own destiny.
She breathed deep the scent of the roses, as she passed through the natural doorway and entered her special spot. Sitting down in the warm sunshine on the banks of the pond, Darcy felt herself relax. She drew up her knees and hugged them, watching the woods come to life. A tiny wren hopped about on the ground not far from her and cocked his head looking at her. The squirrels and chipmunks chattered, as they darted around the floor of the forest, racing up and down the trees. Darcy did not move when she spied a deer approaching the pond for a drink. It bent down and drank, occasionally raising its head to watch her. Suddenly, the deer's head shot up startled by something behind Darcy. It turned and bolted into the safety of the woods.
Before she could turn around, she heard the words, "Someone told me once about a place like this. It’s called a thin place."
Darcy did not move. She held her breath and closed her eyes afraid to break the spell. She opened her eyes and turned around. It was Jean Michel. In two steps he was upon her, pulling up her in his arms, kissing her greedily.
"You're alive! They found you, Jean Michel!" she gasped.
He said nothing, but continued to cover her with kisses. He was overcome with joy at finally being able to hold her again, and he said at last, "You have no idea how long I have been waiting to do this."
"Where have you been?" she asked, running her hands over his hair and face, reassuring herself that he was not a ghost.
"Working with Major Randolph and General Wolfe, reviewing surveys for the assault of Quebec."
Darcy said with surprise, "I have been staying at Major Randolph’s home."
He nodded. "I know, Darcy. When I found you in the surgery weeks ago, I approached my long-time friend Major Randolph and had you transported to his quarters. When I was called away, his housekeeper Mrs. Plunkett had instructions to nurse you back to a full recovery and keep you there until I returned. She has been sending word daily on your recovery.”
Darcy gasped with astonishment. "Then you knew all along!"
"Yes."
Jean Michel vowed never to let Darcy out of his sight again, and he pulled her close, running his lips across her neck and shoulders impatiently.
Darcy pushed him back and said, "Let me look at you."
She ran her hands over his linen shirt, touching his broad shoulders. With her fingers, she lightly caressed his face and stroked his dark hair. He too had made a full recovery. His color had returned, and the familiar intensity was back in his blue eyes.
Gently, Darcy touched his side where the wound had been, and Jean Michel nodded. "It healed quickly. The men you sent that rainy night lost no time taking me to the surgery at Point Levi. It took me several weeks to mend but the minute I was able to walk; I searched and found you in a bed not far from my own."
"Jean Michel, there is something you must know," said Darcy, with a sigh. "I read the farewell letter from Nathan Lawrence several days ago. In it he explained everything to me, and I know that you are the one who paid the ransom."
The smile dropped from Jean Michel's face, and he dropped his arms, stepping back from her. "I never wanted you to know. I wanted you to have your complete freedom and come to me by choice."
"You speak of choice, freedom?" Darcy laughed. "From the moment I laid eyes on you, my choices were over, my freedom was gone! That night when you sat in front of the officers' quarters and stared at me so boldly, I felt something. I didn't know what it was, but from that moment, Jean Michel, you owned my heart."
He sighed deeply. He realized now that Darcy felt no obligation to him or owed him no debt. She had given herself to him freely.
In a few short months, Quebec fell to General Wolfe, and for all purposes the war between England and France was over. Darcy and Jean Michel found a priest to marry them, and in a year they returned to Ireland to revisit the land where Etienne Lupe' had been laid to rest. Darcy had at long last fulfilled her dreams, and with Jean Michel by her side, she stood on her beloved cliffs of Kerry once more.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
All her life Amanda Hughes has been a Walter Mitty, spending more time in heroic daydreams than the real world. At last she found an outlet writing adventures about audacious women in the 18th Century.
Her debut novel Beyond the Cliffs of Kerry was published in 2002 and her second historical adventure The Pride of the King released in 2011. Amanda is a graduate of the University of Minnesota, and when she isn't off tilting windmills she lives and writes in Minneapolis, Minnesota.
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