by Laura Martin
‘What a beautiful evening,’ Miss Wright said as they walked away from the dining room.
‘Indeed.’ Something about this young woman made Anna raise her guard, but she smiled politely and waited for her to say whatever it was she wanted to say.
‘I understand the nature of your agreement with Lord Edgerton,’ Miss Wright said quietly.
‘Oh?’
‘No one could say he is not chivalrous, coming to your aid to save you from scandal, but I fear such a kind and generous man might be taken advantage of in that sort of situation,’ Miss Wright said smoothly.
‘Taken advantage of?’ Anna asked mildly, feigning confusion.
‘We all know this engagement between you is nothing more than a ruse, something that Lord Edgerton plans to break when the time is right,’ Miss Wright said. ‘But I fear an unscrupulous woman might pressure such a kind-hearted man into a more lasting agreement.’
‘For a woman who only met Lord Edgerton and myself today you seem to have a lot of insight into our situation,’ Anna said, keeping her voice impassive.
‘You have a reputation, Lady Fortescue, and not a good one. Any connection with you is not good for Lord Edgerton, or his sister. And everyone knows she can’t afford to have any more scandal attached to her name.’
‘I was under the impression Lord Edgerton was a grown man and not a child,’ Anna said, ‘and as such is perfectly capable of making his own decisions.’
‘Even the noblest of men can be led astray by a pretty face and a devious mind.’
‘Tell me, Miss Wright, do you have intentions on my fiancé?’ Anna couldn’t help herself. ‘Stealing another woman’s betrothed is hardly decent behaviour for a respectable woman.’
‘Mr Rifield has made it clear that Lord Edgerton wants a respectable wife who is well liked and well thought of by the rest of society. You are neither respectable, well liked or well thought of. I suggest you gracefully step out of the way and let Lord Edgerton get on with his life without the burden of you.’
‘Thank you for your advice,’ Anna said, inclining her head politely to Miss Wright. ‘You certainly have given me much to think about.’
It would be so easy to go on the attack, but Anna had realised long ago that nothing was ever gained by making a dispute public. Quickly, before her anger could get the better of her, she spun on her heel and glided away, ensuring all traces of anger and passion had been cleared from her face before she stepped back into the drawing room.
* * *
Holding a flickering candle, Harry climbed up the winding staircase, feeling his head clear as he breathed in the fresh air. Quietly he stepped on to the parapet, smiling to himself as he saw Anna looking out into the darkness. He’d thought she might be up here. After a challenging dinner no doubt she needed time to process everything that had happened before retiring to bed.
As he stood watching her it became clear she hadn’t heard him approaching. She didn’t turn round or speak to him, instead lifting her face to the moonlight.
‘Anna,’ he said, coming up behind her and touching her lightly on the shoulders.
She stiffened and let out a gasp of surprise, but quickly recovered, turning to him with a half-smile.
‘You did very well tonight,’ he said softly.
‘Did I? I couldn’t tell.’
‘Lord Fortescue’s children are absolutely awful. You were wonderfully detached from their spitefulness,’ Harry said. He’d watched her throughout dinner, admired the way she hadn’t risen to any of the cruel comments the new Lord Fortescue or his brother had made. He’d known she was skilled in hiding her emotions, but until tonight he had never seen anyone deal with such outright disdain with so much dignity.
‘Remind me why this is a good idea,’ Anna said, turning away and resuming her perusal of the night sky.
‘One weekend of discomfort will be worth it if we can put an end to the persecution you’ve been suffering.’
‘Perhaps you’re right,’ she said, a hint of sadness in her voice.
Carefully Harry reached up and adjusted the shawl around her shoulders, covering the exposed skin against the chill of the night. His fingers lingered, feeling the heat of her body even through the thick wool of the shawl.
‘Why are you doing this for me, Harry?’ Anna asked, turning to face him.
‘I told you before, no one should have to suffer what you’re going through.’
‘That’s too noble,’ she said with a little laugh.
‘We might not really be engaged,’ Harry said, stepping closer so their bodies were almost touching, ‘but over the last few weeks I’ve come to care for you, Anna.’
Her eyes met his and he felt as though she were searching his entire soul, the deepest recesses of his being.
‘I do not like to think of you alone, suffering,’ he said.
He wanted to kiss her then, even though he knew it would only complicate things. Before his rational mind could make him step away Anna had swayed towards him, one hand reaching up to touch his face. With her fingers on his cheek, her eyes looking into his, Harry knew a kiss was inevitable and with a low groan he gave in and covered her mouth with his own.
She tasted sweet and her lips were warm, just as Harry had imagined them to be. As he kissed her a torrent of desire crashed through him and he looped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. Even in the midst of passion Harry knew this was wrong, but nothing in the world could have stopped him.
Anna’s fingers trailed down his cheek, tracing their way along his neck and coming to rest on his chest. The skin where she’d touched him felt as though it were on fire and his entire body was on edge, as if each and every nerve was waiting to discharge.
With a soft sigh she pulled away.
‘I’m sorry, Harry,’ she said. ‘I shouldn’t have done that.’
He half-expected her to flee, that was what most women of his acquaintance would have done after a situation such as this, but instead she embraced him, wrapping her arms around him and burying her head in his shoulder.
‘You’re a kind man, Harry Edgerton,’ she said, her voice muffled by his clothes. ‘And I am a foolish woman.’
Gently he lifted her head so she was once more looking into his eyes. For a moment he forgot all the reasons why they couldn’t be together, forgot his resolve to find a wife he could never fall in love with and Anna’s vehement objection to the idea of ever marrying again.
‘Can we forget this ever happened?’ she asked. ‘I value what we have too much for this to ruin things.’
‘Of course,’ Harry said, knowing he was lying. He wouldn’t ever be able to forget how her lips felt on his, the taste of her mouth in his own, the way her body fitted against his as if they were made for one another.
She smiled at him then, a smile that could melt the heart of any man, then turned and slipped down the staircase back to the main house. Harry stayed where he was for a few minutes, looking out at the stars and wondering when his life became so complicated.
Chapter Fourteen
As the first light of dawn filtered through the thick curtains Anna rose from her bed, slipped into a dress she could fasten without the help of a maid and quietly left her room. She’d always risen early, always enjoyed the peace of a new day before the household started to wake, but today she felt heavy and tired.
She’d barely slept, too many conflicting thoughts racing through her mind, whipping her up into a state of confusion and anxiety and chasing away even the possibility of sleep. Every time she tried to settle Harry’s face would flash before her eyes and the memory of his lips on hers, his fingers on her skin, pushed out anything else clamouring for attention in her mind.
Of course the kiss had been a mistake. Anna wasn’t sure what had come over her. There had been something almost magical about the moment up at the top of
the tower, something irresistible about Harry.
He was unlike any man she had ever known, although she supposed a list of five wasn’t very many to compare to. Apart from her three husbands and her father—a man who had frowned upon displays of affection or sentimentality—the only man she’d ever been relatively close to was her beloved uncle. Despite living for a few years as a widow in between her marriages she’d kept herself quite private, never been in a position to start an illicit affair, never indulged in an inappropriate friendship with a gentleman, until now of course. Nevertheless, she knew Harry was different to other men. He was kind and generous, perhaps too generous. He took the problems of others and made them his own, often shouldering the burden when he shouldn’t have to. There was no arguing he was a good man.
After Lord Fortescue’s death Anna had vowed never to marry again, never to give a man that ultimate power over her. While married she’d suffered daily at her late husband’s hands. He was a cruel man and a crueller husband, and she had the scars to prove it. Even after knowing Harry for just a few short weeks she knew he would never beat her, never raise his hand in anger, but all the same she needed to keep her distance.
It would be all too easy to fall for Harry, to find herself seduced by his charm and his kindness, and once again to lose her autonomy, to become a wife rather than a woman of independence.
‘Keep your distance,’ she murmured to herself as she glided down the stairs, turning back on herself in the grand hallway to slip through the door to the kitchens below where she thought she might find a door a little easier to open than the heavy oak that guarded the grand entrance.
Outside the air was damp and in the distance Anna could see wispy tendrils of mist floating low over the hills. With the sun just starting to peek over the horizon it looked more like a fairy-tale land than England and Anna found it difficult not to smile. Despite the reason she was here, despite all she’d suffered over the years, she couldn’t help but appreciate this moment. Right here, right now she felt happy and it was a long-forgotten emotion.
As she stepped on to the immaculately kept lawn that swept the entire length of the back of the house she could feel the dampness seeping through her shoes and knew it wouldn’t be long until the hem of her dress was sodden with water, but even this was not enough to make her turn back.
In the distance she could see two deer, a mother and her baby, trotting through the parkland, and closer, just twenty feet away, a group of rabbits were hopping about in the early morning air.
Anna walked for a few minutes with no certain destination in mind, just content to be out in the fresh air. As she headed away from the house the outline of a summer house became visible, the white boards reflecting the sun. Without too much thought she headed for the small structure, but as she drew near she heard a faint sobbing.
Pausing, Anna wondered whether to push on or retrace her steps before anyone saw her. She didn’t like to leave whoever it was inside the summer house in distress, but she also knew all too well how sometimes a witness to sorrow was the last thing that person might need.
Quietly she stepped up to the open door and looked inside. For a moment she thought it was Lydia sitting on the bench—the woman had the same dark hair, the same delicate, almost fragile physique. As she looked up Anna realised this woman was older, but most certainly related.
‘I’m sorry to intrude,’ Anna said. ‘I heard you crying, but I understand if you wish to be left alone.’
‘Come sit,’ the woman said, brushing the tears away from her eyes. ‘You must think me very foolish sitting here crying all by myself.’
‘Not at all.’ Anna meant what she said. She didn’t know what troubles this woman faced and sometimes a few quietly shed tears in private were all the outlet a woman was allowed.
‘You must be Lady Fortescue,’ she said with a soft smile. ‘Lydia told me all about you last night.’
‘Lady Edgerton?’ Anna ventured, guessing this must be the countess, Harry’s mother.
Anna had thought it a little strange the countess had not been present to greet the guests as they’d arrived, or been part of the gathering the evening before, but Harry had hinted that his mother suffered deeply from her nerves.
The older woman frowned, looking past Anna and her eyes glazing over slightly.
‘You must be careful, my dear—an ill wind follows you here.’
Anna glanced over her shoulder, shivering slightly, knowing it was from the damp morning air but wondering what Harry’s mother was looking at.
‘Would you like me to take you back to the house, Lady Edgerton?’ Anna asked.
Harry’s mother sighed and Anna saw her hands were trembling in her lap. Cautiously, moving slowly so as not to alarm the older woman, she reached out and placed one of her hands over the top of Lady Edgerton’s fingers. Momentarily Lady Edgerton stiffened, but then seemed to relax a little.
‘There has been much heartbreak here.’
‘I know, Lady Edgerton,’ Anna said placatingly.
‘My poor Lydia. She’s so sensitive, so delicate.’
Looking at the countess, Anna knew Lydia had inherited more than just her looks from her mother. Harry had hinted that his mother was prone to fits of melancholy and was plagued by her nerves, and now Anna could see just what a toll this had taken on her.
Suddenly the older countess’s eyes swung back to Anna’s, focusing intently on her.
‘He’s very taken with you.’
‘I’m not sure...’
Lady Edgerton shook her head vehemently. ‘He is very taken with you. Nothing good can come out of it.’ She wrung her hands together, squeezing and pinching at the skin until Anna felt like reaching out and pulling them apart. ‘First Lydia and now him, how am I to bear it?’
‘Bear what, Lady Edgerton?’
‘Losing them. My lovely children. First my husband and now them.’
Anna wanted to point out that she hadn’t lost either of her children, Harry and Lydia were still resident at Halstead Hall, still very much alive, but didn’t want to add to the older woman’s distress.
‘It nearly killed me when poor Lydia—’ She broke off, letting out a sob. ‘My poor heart, it won’t stand any more pain.’
‘Please don’t suffer on my account, Lady Edgerton.’
‘They say you’re engaged to my son,’ Lady Edgerton said, turning and fixing Anna with a hard look.
‘Your son is helping me through a difficult time.’
‘He must marry a nice girl. A respectable girl. He needs to settle down and produce an heir with someone from a good family.’ Lady Edgerton’s voice was becoming higher in pitch and more hysterical with every syllable. Anna wished she knew how to calm Harry’s mother, but was aware a few poorly chosen words could have the opposite effect.
‘I’m sure he will, Lady Edgerton.’
‘How can he, when...?’
‘Mother.’ Harry’s voice was quiet but firm and both women turned in surprise to look at him.
The silence stretched out, Anna feeling as though she couldn’t be the one to break it, but feeling decidedly uncomfortable being in the middle of the tension between mother and son.
‘Let me escort you back to the house,’ Harry said kindly after a long minute of silence. ‘You’ll catch a chill in this damp air if you stay out any longer.’
‘Yes, dear,’ Lady Edgerton said.
Gently Harry took his mother’s arm, flashed an apologetic smile over his shoulder at Anna and led the older woman back over the damp grass towards the house.
* * *
‘You must think my entire family mad,’ Harry said, ten minutes later as he met Anna on the lawn in front of the summer house.
‘Not at all.’
‘Sometimes I do,’ he murmured, running his free hand through his hair, resting it at the nape of his neck be
fore letting it fall to his side.
‘All families have their challenges,’ Anna said.
‘What a wonderfully uncontroversial way to put it.’
Harry offered Anna his arm and they walked side by side away from the house across the wet lawn. He was a naturally early riser, normally one of the first awake in the household, but this morning he’d opened his curtains to see Anna strolling through the gardens just as the sun was rising above the horizon. When he’d gone out to meet her he hadn’t expected to find his mother sat in the summer house in just her flimsy nightclothes.
‘My mother hasn’t been the same since my father passed away,’ Harry said quietly, feeling as if he needed to tell Anna his family weren’t completely crazy.
‘There’s no need to explain anything, Harry.’
‘She was always nervous, but nothing like this. Now it seems she’s governed by worry and superstition.’
‘Were she and your father close?’
He grimaced, remembering the blazing arguments, the screaming matches that he would watch from the top of the stairs, his parents oblivious to his presence.
‘They loved each other,’ he said slowly. ‘Completely adored each other, especially at the beginning.’
There had been good times, Harry remembered, the walks they would all take together though the fields, his parents arm in arm and smiling up at each other. But as the years went on the good times had diminished and instead their lives had been full of arguments and rows.
‘They loved each other too much. It wasn’t healthy to have so much passion in a marriage. They were always destined to hurt one another.’
‘Surely love in a marriage is a good thing,’ Anna said softly.
Harry shook his head vehemently. ‘Mutual respect and companionship, that’s what a good marriage is built on, not love. My parents loved each other so much it was destructive, especially for my mother. As time went on, after an argument my father would goad her, flaunt his latest mistress in front of her. He knew it would destroy her, but he still did it. And this was to the woman he loved.’