Darcy couldn't comprehend why a horse should cause so much upset in a man, especially as he had initially took him for a farm hand. A fear of horses would be a terrible disadvantage to a man of that profession. Perhaps he had had a bad experience with them recently, the possibilities were endless. Whatever it was, rather than say he'd created a rather makeshift restraint, he decided to go for a more reassuring response.
"Yes, the horse is secure," he confirmed with a nod. He'd need to find her some water and food if she was going to be kept there any length of time, but it was quite low down on his list of concerns at the moment.
At first, Miguel's sharing of his own watery experience helped make him feel less of a fool, but then he noted the way the expression was formed. This place and dumped... he talked as though the place had its own mind.
"Ah, Dr O'Hara," he gave him a slightly longer bow as an apology for assuming him to be nothing but a labourer initially. "You are not Miss Sully's brother?" he inquired, although it was a pointless question since that much was now apparent. Now that he knew he was a doctor, he accepted the handshake that had been offered. "I'm Fitzwilliam Darcy," he offered his own name. Twice in one day he'd introduced himself to strangers, he'd have to take care not to make a habit of it, but in the circumstances it had seemed necessary.