by Laura Martin
‘Perhaps I might ask Lord Edgerton to call on me,’ Beatrice said, her voice light, her gaze fixed out of the window.
Suppressing a smile, Anna nodded. ‘He would be a fine match for you,’ she said.
Anna knew her cousin was only trying to bait her, although there had been a hint of infatuation in her eyes the afternoon they had all played shuttlecock together.
* * *
The carriage pulled up in front of the opera house and Anna waited for the door to open before stepping down, turning to wait for Beatrice. Theirs was not the only carriage arriving, in front and behind the ladies and gentlemen of the ton were eagerly alighting from their coaches and carriages, ready for an evening of people watching and passing judgement.
Linking her arm through Beatrice’s, Anna ascended the steps, smiling politely at the gaggle of young women going through the door ahead of them.
‘I hear the Duke of Westfield is going to be in attendance tonight,’ Beatrice whispered, her face aglow with excitement.
If going on title and wealth alone the Duke of Westfield was considered the most eligible bachelor in society at the present time. Unfortunately he also had a rapidly receding hairline, a pot belly to rival a pig and a voice that could send a listener to sleep in a matter of seconds. Anna had been introduced to him a few years ago and had spent a dull half an hour listening to the intricacies of numismatics, which she had learnt at length meant rare coin collecting. Despite his dull personality he would have his pick of the debutantes when he decided to tear himself away from his coin collection to choose a wife.
As they entered the foyer Beatrice spotted a couple of her friends and rushed over, no doubt ready to discuss the young men in attendance.
‘You look ravishing,’ a low voice said in her ear.
Anna spun so quickly she almost lost her balance, but Harry placed a steadying hand on her arm.
‘Beatrice engineered this,’ she said flatly.
‘I did enlist her help,’ Harry admitted.
‘I should go.’
‘Please let me apologise.’
Anna hesitated. As usual people were looking at them, but she was still tempted to turn and flee from the opera house. Beatrice was safely ensconced with the three Towertrap girls under the watchful eye of their mother; there was no need for her to stay.
‘You know how much I dislike the opera, yet you bring me here to apologise,’ Anna said, her voice low.
‘I can see that it looks as if I haven’t learnt anything, but please give me a chance. Come with me.’
Part of her wanted to. It would be easy to forgive him, easy to return to the pleasant companionship they had shared the last few weeks, but she knew she had to be careful. More than once she’d found herself wondering what it would be like to kiss Harry, how it would feel to have his arms pull her close. Dangerous thoughts, thoughts that could lead somewhere Anna most certainly did not want to go.
‘Lord Edgerton,’ Anna said with a sigh, ‘everything we have done in the past few weeks has been working towards trying to minimise the scandal that surrounds us and now you want me to sneak off and sully my reputation even further?’
‘Harry,’ he said. ‘Last week you called me Harry.’
‘Last week was a mistake.’
‘Which part?’
‘Let’s just say everything I have done since meeting you was a mistake.’
‘You don’t mean that.’
She thought of the glorious waltz they’d shared and the almost magical moment on the terrace afterwards.
‘Almost everything,’ she conceded. ‘Lord Edgerton...’
‘Harry.’
‘Lord Edgerton,’ Anna said firmly, ‘you are a kind man with good intentions, but I am perfectly capable of looking after myself.’
‘I disagree.’
Anna felt herself stiffen. He was doing it again, speaking in a completely aristocratic, completely male way, making statements with such confidence it bordered on arrogance and presuming he knew best.
‘You are capable,’ Harry said quickly. ‘You’re the most capable woman I’ve ever known, but no one, man or woman, should have to deal with the persecution you are suffering alone.’
‘Truly, it does not bother me.’
‘Don’t lie to me, Anna. I was there when you received the last parcel, remember.’
A shiver ran down her spine at the memory, but she managed to suppress it.
Taking her arm, Harry gently led her to one side of the foyer. Multiple sets of eyes followed their every move, no doubt cataloguing their expressions and body language.
‘I’m sorry. I was overbearing and controlling. I shouldn’t have ploughed on with my plan without consulting you first. It’s your life, you deserve to be involved in every decision.’
Anna felt herself softening. It wasn’t often anyone had apologised to her and meant it, but, seeing the sincerity in Harry’s eyes, she knew he truly did regret how he’d handled the situation.
‘Thank you,’ she said quietly.
‘Forgive me?’
She hesitated for only a second before nodding.
People were starting to move upstairs and find their boxes and Anna knew she would have to rejoin Beatrice for the duration of the performance.
‘Stay for the first act and then plead a headache,’ Harry said.
‘Why?’
‘I have a surprise for you.’
Despite her hardest efforts at self-control, Anna felt a spark of anticipation.
‘We cannot both leave midway through. It’ll look too suspicious.’
‘It was a pleasure to see you this evening, Lady Fortescue,’ Harry said loudly, bending over her hand as he raised it to his lips. ‘Alas, I have a prior engagement, but I did not want to go an entire day without setting eyes on my beautiful fiancée.’
‘A bit much,’ Anna murmured, trying to suppress a smile. Harry might be too assertive sometimes, but he made her smile more than anyone else ever had. ‘Good night, Lord Edgerton,’ Anna replied, turning to join her cousin and their companions.
* * *
Harry stepped out into the crisp evening air, whistling to himself. It had been easier than he’d envisaged to apologise to Anna. Despite her frosty exterior she was forgiving and Harry had the sense that she hadn’t wanted to stay mad at him. Anna might protest that she liked her solitude and privacy, but he suspected underneath that initial private layer there was a lonely young woman just crying to be rescued.
‘Not your place,’ he murmured to himself. He would help her with the anonymous packages, try to save her from a little scandal, but then they would have to go their separate ways. No matter how much he liked her, she wasn’t the right choice of wife for him in the long term. She wouldn’t bring the stability and respectability needed to the Edgerton family and he feared after spending a few months in her company he would find it a little difficult to play the role of the distant husband he had planned for himself. There was something enthralling about Anna, something that drew you in.
‘Lord Edgerton, isn’t it?’
Harry spun around to find himself looking into the face of a vaguely familiar man.
‘You have me at a disadvantage, Mr...’
‘Mr Maltravers. I’m a close personal friend of Lady Fortescue.’
‘That’s right, we bumped into each other at the docks.’ Harry remembered the brief encounter on the steps up to Anna’s shipping office.
‘I hear you are engaged to Lady Fortescue.’
‘Yes.’
‘May I offer my congratulations. Lady Fortescue is a fine woman. I have admired her ever since she took over her husband’s company,’ Mr Maltravers said.
‘Thank you.’
‘I have often advised Lady Fortescue she needs a protector. The world is such a dangerous and cruel
place.’
Harry murmured in general agreement, wondering how Anna knew Mr Maltravers. He was well dressed, but had an air of desperation about him and kept looking around furtively as if he expected to be thrown out at any moment.
‘Please don’t take this the wrong way. I have been a close friend to Lady Fortescue for quite some time. She is a vulnerable young woman despite her efforts to seem strong. I trust you will not hurt her.’
Harry frowned. It was an odd thing to say, especially from a man he’d just met.
‘Of course not.’
‘Good,’ Mr Maltravers said, nodding his head once and then again. ‘She deserves to be cherished. I’d hoped...’ He trailed off. ‘Never mind. I must excuse myself, I’m heading to the opera and already I am late.’
‘Good evening,’ Harry said, inclining his head.
He watched as Mr Maltravers hurried up the steps and through the doors of the opera house, throwing a glance back over his shoulder to where Harry was standing. An odd man, certainly one he couldn’t see Anna having much time for.
* * *
The first act was not as long as some and Harry found himself waiting with anticipation to see if Anna would emerge early from one of the boxes. There was a chance she would decide not to come, sit through the first interval ensconced safely in the box with her companions, but Harry had seen the spark in her eyes and knew at least a little part of her wanted to see what he had planned.
Just as the crescendo of the first act was being reached Harry slipped back into the foyer of the opera house. It would be difficult to explain his presence if Anna did not emerge and he was instead seen by another member of the ton, but it was a risk worth taking. From here in the richly decorated foyer he could hear the impressive vocal talents of Giuditta Felini, the Italian opera singer who was the talk of London at the moment. Just as the audience broke into spontaneous applause a door upstairs opened and Harry saw Anna slip out.
Despite the risk she was taking in coming to meet him she moved slowly, gracefully, gliding down the stairs as if on her way to take tea with a friend. As she reached Harry he had an overwhelming urge to reach out, pull her to him and kiss her, but before he could even smile a greeting other doors began opening and Anna’s eyes widened in panic.
‘This way,’ he whispered, grasping her by the hand and pulling her through a nondescript door, closing off the view of the foyer which would soon be busy with other audience members socialising during the interval.
He’d paid one of the opera-house employees handsomely to leave this particular door unlocked and provide a burning candle to light their way, and the young man hadn’t disappointed. Sitting on a ledge at the bottom of a narrow staircase was a flickering candle.
‘Where are we going?’ Anna asked. She sounded a little nervous and he wondered if she were afraid of the dark.
‘Up.’ Gently he took her hand again and guided her up the stairs. ‘You said the other day that you enjoyed the actual opera performance—it was the rest of the audience that put you off attending the opera.’
‘Everyone is looking at everyone else, judging them.’
‘Well, I thought you might like to enjoy the rest of this performance without anyone looking at you.’ Except me, he added to himself.
They climbed in the darkness, flight after flight, until they came to the very top of the staircase. In front of them was a door that Harry pushed open and then they were on a small platform at the very top of the opera house.
‘Where are we?’ Anna asked.
‘This building has so many nooks and crannies I’m not sure what this area was used for originally. Now the staff use it for storage.’
‘How do you know about it?’
Harry shrugged. ‘I’m observant. More observant than most. I was at the opera one evening when I saw a couple of faces up here. One of the opera girls had smuggled her family in to watch when they couldn’t afford tickets. I poked around until I found out how to get up here.’
‘So people can see us?’ Anna asked, stepping back from the edge quickly.
‘If they look up. But they won’t be able to see who we are.’
Carefully Anna stepped forward again, leaning on the wooden barrier and looking down on the people below. Many were still in their boxes, talking to their companions, the women fanning themselves in the heat.
‘It’s not luxurious,’ Harry said, pulling up two wooden crates for them to sit on, ‘but it is private.’
Gracefully Anna sat down, adjusting her skirts so the material did not snag on the corners of the box.
‘And I brought champagne.’
‘You don’t like champagne.’
‘But you do.’
Their eyes met for an instant before Anna hurriedly looked away. Harry busied himself opening the bottle and pouring out two glasses and handing one to Anna. As she took her first sip the audience down below began filing back into their seats, although there was still a substantial amount of chatter as the second act began.
Harry had seen this opera twice before so he sat back and watched Anna’s face as her eyes were fixed to the stage. It was the story of Medea, the priestess in ancient Greece who fell in love with Jason and bore his children, murdering them when he abandoned her. It was captivating and emotional, and as Anna relaxed he saw the first flicker of emotion cross her face. Normally she was so poised, so in control, it was wonderful to see her express what she was truly feeling. As the story unfolded he noticed the gleam of tears on Anna’s cheeks, but she was too engrossed in the opera to wipe them away.
Gently Harry leaned in, using his thumb to capture the tiny droplets of salty tears, brushing them away. With his hands still cupping her face she turned towards him.
‘It’s beautiful,’ she whispered.
Using every last bit of his self-control Harry nodded and backed away. He’d never felt such desire as he did right now, never wanted to kiss a woman so much, but he knew it would lead down a path he just couldn’t follow.
Quickly he stood, needing to put physical distance between him and Anna, allowing her to watch the last few moments of the opera in peace.
‘Thank you, Harry,’ Anna said as the applause from the audience began. She stood and crossed the small platform towards him, stopping when they were only inches apart. ‘That was one of the best evenings of my life.’
He was unable to stop himself from lifting a hand to place on her upper arm, allowing his fingers to trail over her satiny-soft skin. By the flickering light of the candle she looked beautiful and Harry knew if he didn’t step away immediately he wouldn’t be able to control what happened next. Her cool grey eyes met his and for a moment the noise from the audience below faded into the background.
It was Anna who stepped away, turning quickly and crossing back to the wooden barrier, pretending to be sorting out her skirts so she wouldn’t have to look at him.
Harry hadn’t expected the sharp pang of disappointment. No real liaison between them could result in anything good, but it seemed his head and his heart wanted two very different things.
‘We will wait for everyone else to leave,’ Harry said quietly, ‘and then I will escort you downstairs. Your cousin will be waiting for you in your uncle’s carriage. I thought it best mine was not seen dropping you home at this hour.’
Chapter Nine
‘Great news!’ Billy Godden shouted as he ran up the stairs and burst into the office. ‘The Lady Magdalene has docked in Lisbon. She needs extensive repairs, but the cargo is all in good condition.’
Anna felt a great weight being lifted from her and cautiously enquired, ‘And the crew?’
‘All safe and accounted for.’
‘Thank you, Billy,’ Anna said. ‘That’s wonderful news.’
‘Should we arrange for another ship to pick up the cargo, ma’am?’
Before a
nswering Anna took out the small notebook she kept with her at all times that outlined the current position of all the ships the Trevels Shipping Company owned. Quickly she scanned the pages, trying to work out a solution.
‘The Elizabeth Rose is not due to sail for France again for another two weeks. We could send her to Lisbon to take the Lady Magdalene’s cargo and arrange a replacement for the run to France.’
‘Shall I organise it, ma’am?’
‘Please do, Billy.’
As he left Billy paused by the door. ‘There’s a package out here for you,’ he said, picking it up and placing it on the desk.
Anna felt a chill creep over her entire body and quickly sat down in her chair before she collapsed. The package was nondescript from the outside, just a brown box tied up with string. There was no note attached, no card to say who it was from, but Anna knew immediately it was another unwanted present from her tormentor.
She hesitated before pulling at the string. It would be easy to throw it away, discard it without looking inside. That would be one way of taking back control, but she knew she couldn’t do it. She needed to know what was inside, what part of her life they were attacking now.
For a moment she wondered about sending word to Harry, asking him to come and open the package for her, but as soon as the thought occurred she abandoned it. Harry wouldn’t be around for ever. In a month, maybe two at the most, they would go their separate ways and Anna would again be alone. She disliked the idea of having to rely on anyone else, so she wouldn’t.
‘You’re a grown woman,’ she murmured to herself, quickly tugging at the string before she could change her mind. The knot unravelled and with a rapid movement Anna tore off the lid of the box and peered inside.
Thankfully there was nothing as gruesome as a dead animal inside. The box was almost empty, with just a folded square of paper at the bottom. Trying to ignore her shaking hands, Anna lifted the paper and began to unfold it.
As she read the writing on the paper she felt the bile rise in her throat and a swell of nausea from her stomach. It was a list of her every movement over the past week, details of where she’d gone, at what times and who she had encountered. It was accurate and detailed and could only have been obtained by someone who was watching her closely.