The Rescue

by Lori Wick

  Anne thought about lying down but suddenly heard another carriage, this time from the direction of town. When she saw that it was Weston again, she stood but remained under the tree. As she watched, the carriage pulled off and both men alighted. Weston started toward her, and Mansfield came as soon as he had gathered a hamper and blanket.

  “Hello, Miss Gardiner. Are you well?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “May I join you?”

  “Certainly.”

  “This is a fine spot,” Weston proclaimed, his head tipping back to see the trees just as Mansfield began to lay out the blanket.

  “Are you having a picnic?” Anne asked of him, stepping aside so the blanket could be smoothed at the corner; it had been literally laid at her feet.

  “We, Miss Gardiner, we are having a picnic. Mansfield tells me you have not eaten recently, and my last meal is but a memory, so we shall partake. Then I will deliver you in the carriage to wherever you wish to go.”

  “That’s very kind of you, Mr Weston, but you didn’t have to bother.”

  “No bother at all. Come. Have a seat, and we’ll see what Mansfield has packed.”

  Anne sank onto the blanket, not wishing to seem ungrateful but suddenly embarrassed in front of these two men. Collingbourne was not London, and Anne couldn’t help but notice how elegantly Mr Weston was dressed. Mansfield himself was outfitted in some of the finest attire Anne had ever seen. Her own simple gown—not nearly as fresh as she would have liked—seemed like a rag in comparison.

  “Let me begin by offering my most sincere apology to you, Miss Gardiner. I left you standing in my hallway in a rude fashion. My guest was most unexpected, but that doesn’t excuse my behavior. I am sorry.”

  “It’s all right, truly. I understood.”

  “Do you enjoy fruit?” Weston asked without warning.

  “Yes, thank you,” Anne answered automatically. “Anything will be fine.”

  The twosome dined in silence for the next several minutes, but when Anne had refreshed herself with lemon water and some of the food from her plate, Weston began to question her.

  “Has your father been confused for long?”

  “More than ten years now,” Anne answered, happy to explain her parent’s actions. “He ran a fever that nothing could break. It lasted for days. I was sure he would die at any time, but he seemed to cling to life with a fierce tenacity. When he awoke and asked for water, he didn’t know who I was. He eventually remembered me, but many things have slipped away from his mind. I think I’m one of the few things he does remember, so he tends to be rather protective.” Anne blushed at the thought of all her father had put this man through and ducked her head under the guise of reaching for more food from her plate.

  “How long have you lived at Levens Crossing?”

  “Just a few years.”

  “And before then?”

  Weston’s voice was so gentle that Anne found herself sharing.

  “We lived at Stone Hall. Do you know it?”

  “Yes. Brown Manor was my grandmother’s home. I visited here often as a child and know many of the homes.”

  “Mrs Dixon was your grandmother?”

  “Yes.”

  “We heard of her passing. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you.”

  Silence fell yet again, but Anne didn’t notice. Not having felt particularly hungry, she now realized how wrong she had been. It was kind of Mr Weston to offer her a ride, but in truth she now felt refreshed enough to walk the distance.

  “That was lovely,” Anne said as she put her plate aside. “Thank you.”

  “Can I offer you more?”

  “I’ll just finish my water and be fine. Thank you again.”

  Weston nodded, and wishing to return Anne safely back to her life as soon as possible, finished his own food.

  “Mansfield,” Anne turned to him, “did you find the cleaning supplies I left?”

  “I did, Miss Gardiner. Thank you.”

  Anne was opening her mouth to thank him for his kindness of the last days when yet another carriage was heard in the distance. Anne looked with curiosity—this road not being heavily traveled—until she saw the occupant of the fine coach.

  “Oh, it’s Mr Daniels,” she said under her breath, just before ducking her head.

  Both men heard her, but their eyes were on the man who had nearly poked his head from the carriage to gawk at them.

  Weston waved before looking back to Anne. Only then did her comment make sense to him. Anne had angled her body in such a way that her face was turned completely away from the road. That Anne had known the rider was now fully clear.

  “Did you say his name was Daniels?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you know him?”

  “I do, yes.”

  “I think you did not wish him to see you.”

  Anne now looked into her host’s face, her eyes showing dismay.

  “I am not certain what conclusions he would draw from our situation just now, and he is not a man afraid to tell what he has seen.”

  It didn’t take long for Weston to understand. Anne’s reputation was at stake. As for him, he was new in the area and not yet known. Except for…

  “I’d like to ask about Mr and Mrs Croft. Will they be more discreet?”

  “Absolutely. Had the ceremony happened in town, it would have been out of their hands, but they are not in the habit of divulging private matters.”

  Seemingly calm, Weston nodded but said firmly, “I think we must get you home.”

  “Thank you” was all Anne replied, coming gracefully to her feet.

  Once in the carriage, silence fell yet again. Anne found herself wishing she could go home under cover of darkness. She might have been surprised to know that Weston was having the same thoughts, but he knew that taking her back to Brown Manor after dusk could make things even worse.

  “To your home?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “When I stopped there, your father was not at home. Will he be there now?”

  “It’s hard to say. If he’s remembered the incident, I rather hope he isn’t, but I honestly can’t tell you what to expect.”

  “So he might have forgotten what happened?” Weston had not considered this.

  “Certainly. He may remember it forever, or it may have been gone that very day.”

  “If he has not forgotten, will he welcome you home?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “And he won’t wonder why you’re back?”

  “I’m not staying. I’m only gathering some of my things.”

  They were coming to Levens Crossing, and the house was in view just minutes later. Weston helped Anne from the carriage and spoke.

  “We will wait until you have what you need and then deliver you wherever you wish to go.”

  “No,” Anne said firmly. “You have been very kind, but I assure you, this way is best.”

  Weston thought for a moment.

  “You will gather your things. Mansfield will take you wherever you wish, and I will remain here. When he has delivered you, he will come back for me.”

  “No, Mr Weston, it is not necessary, I assure you.”

  Weston looked about. He couldn’t be sure what was over each hill or mound, but from where he stood there was not another home or even a building in sight.

  “You mustn’t walk laden down with your belongings. Mansfield will take you. You must let me do this, Miss Gardiner. I owe you that much.”

  “Mr Weston, you forget. It was you who was set upon by my father. You owe me nothing.”

  “My mind is quite made up. Now gather your things so you and Mansfield can be off.”

  “And what if my father returns?”

  “If he remembers me, I’ll tell him the truth: You’re visiting friends, and I’m waiting for the carriage.” Weston smiled. “He might even offer me tea.”

  Anne smiled. She couldn’t help herself.

&nbs
p; “Go along now,” Weston said quietly, his eyes watchful.

  Anne moved to the door without another word. When she was inside, Weston turned to his manservant.

  “Was she this sweet and unspoiled for the last five days?”

  “Yes, sir,” Mansfield answered quietly.

  The Manse

  Anne gladly returned the hug Judith Hurst gave her the moment she was safely inside her pastor’s home.

  “We’ve been concerned,” Judith offered, holding the younger woman at arm’s length so she could study her. Pastor Hurst was next in line, hugging Anne and welcoming her to a comfortable chair.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I am, yes.”

  “Would you like something?”

  “No, I’ve just eaten.”

  “Can you tell us about what has happened, Anne?” the pastor asked kindly.

  With a certain measure of relief, Anne did just that, finding that it did her heart good to speak of it.

  “You say that when Mr Weston returned, he was calmer?” Pastor asked when the story had been unfolded.

  “Yes, even apologetic. I was somewhat amazed.”

  “How old a man is he?”

  “Mid-twenties, I would guess.”

  “Do you know him, Frederick?” This came from his wife.

  “I’m not certain. Maybe I’ll have a chance to meet him and find out.”

  The threesome fell quiet for a few minutes, and then Judith spoke again.

  “Anne, we do not have good news for you.”

  “My father?” She looked pained when she asked.

  “He is well, but the day after the incident he went into town and told everyone you’d been married the day before and that you’d gone away on your wedding trip.”

  “Oh, Father,” Anne said quietly, the color draining from her face, her mind scrambling with this new information. Two other times she’d been forced into this same type of “marriage” to satisfy her father’s heart, but never had she left with the man. She had certainly never spent five days in his home. Because of her father, Anne’s station in town was something of an oddity, but her reputation had never been questioned.

  It would seem this would no longer be the case.

  “May I stay here?” Anne asked next.

  “Of course you may. Judith made a room ready when the news reached us.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I think a warm bath…” Judith suggested, and Anne looked so relieved that the older woman smiled. From that point on, even during her bath, Anne bent her mind to dealing with her father.

  Mansfield returned to Levens Crossing to find Weston waiting patiently on the stone bench in the front yard. Clearly Anne’s father had not returned.

  “Where did she wish to go?” he asked as soon as the carriage was in motion.

  “A manse.”

  Weston’s brows rose.

  “At the church were Pastor Hurst ministers?”

  “I’m not certain.”

  Weston described the building, and Mansfield agreed it was the same. The men rode in silence for a time, but Weston had made up his mind just before reaching Brown Manor.

  “I’m off to a rocky start here, Mansfield, but I’m still making this move. I’ll be starting a list of what I want from London, as well as the shopping I wish to do. Figure out which staff you want to remain in London and which is to come here. Hire whomever you, Cook, and Sally need to run this house.”

  Mansfield didn’t comment, but he was quite satisfied. He felt that Brown Manor suited Mr Weston very well.

  Tipton

  “Hi,” Palmer said quietly to his wife on Saturday morning. Lydia was still in bed, having just awakened. “You didn’t sleep well.”

  “No, I didn’t. I’m sorry I disturbed you.”

  Palmer leaned forward and kissed her stomach.

  “I’ll scold this little person as soon as I meet him.”

  “You’re still certain it’s a boy?” she asked with a smile.

  He smiled back at her and said only, “Anne is at the manse.”

  Lydia’s sigh was heartfelt.

  “You spoke with her?”

  “No, but I saw Pastor, and he told me.”

  “Did you and Jennings have your Bible study already? What time is it?”

  “We did study, but it’s early. I wanted to get home to you.”

  “Palmer, I’m sure I can manage church tomorrow. Say you agree.”

  “Why don’t I see if Anne can come here to visit you?”

  “But I want to go to church. I can stand in the rear if my back hurts.”

  “Then everyone will think your pains have started, and no one will be able to concentrate on the sermon.”

  Lydia was disappointed but understood. She liked the idea of Anne coming to visit, however, and grabbed onto the idea with vigor. She reminded Palmer that he was going to invite Anne right up to the moment he left for church the next morning.

  Collingbourne

  The Colonel had not been at home when Anne arrived Saturday morning. The kitchen had been very clean, and she could see that he’d done some marketing, but even though she’d left the manse almost as soon as she’d risen, Anne found her father gone from Levens Crossing. She’d debated her next move until she came to the fork in the road. One stretch led into town and one led back to the manse. She was now in Collingbourne, her father’s whereabouts filling her head.

  “Mrs Musgrove,” she said, stopping that woman on the street. “Have you seen my father?”

  “Well, Anne,” the woman said quietly, her brows arched. “We’d heard news of your nuptials. Where is your husband?”

  Mrs Musgrove made a show of looking around, causing Anne’s heart to sink with dread. That Mrs Musgrove was not one of the kinder individuals in town was something to be taken into account, but this first meeting did not bode well.

  “Have you seen my father?” Anne asked again, accustomed to dodging questions.

  “No, but we’ve been wondering about your whereabouts.”

  “Thank you for your concern,” Anne said, having to force the words out. “I won’t keep you any longer.”

  Mrs Musgrove, looking smugger than ever, turned to watch Anne move on her way.

  Anne walked slowly. Clearly she was going to have to be careful with whom she spoke, and that only made her task more difficult.

  With a prayer for wisdom she carried on, careful about catching the eyes of some and working not to imagine condemnation when there was none.

  “Miss Gardiner,” a whispered voice stopped her when she was halfway down the center block.

  Anne looked about and found Tommy Benwick motioning to her. She went to him where he had a door partially open at the side of his father’s shop. Anne slipped inside.

  “My father wants to see you.”

  “Oh, Tommy, can it wait? I’m looking for my father.”

  “I think it’s about your father.”

  Anne followed Tommy without another word and found herself in Benwick’s storeroom. She had been in this room a few times over the years and always found it a bit aweinspiring. Benwick’s store was as neat and tidy as anyone could imagine. But the storeroom was another story. Anne had known Benwick to disappear to this room and return to the front just minutes later with a requested item, but how he knew where to look was anyone’s guess.

  Bolts of fabric were stacked in confused and chaotic disorder, and crates of unknown objects were strewn about. The room was lit by two small windows, with shelves lining every available portion of the walls. Items hung from even the rafters. Anne was still taking it all in, her attention catching from time to time on a certain object, until Benwick himself entered the room.

  “Miss Anne,” he said, immediately at his most solicitous. “How are you?”

  “I’m well, Mr Benwick. Tommy said you have news.”

  “Indeed, I do. Your father had a bit of a mishap on Wednesday. It’s only a sprained ankle, but very painful and
swollen. He’s most put out about it, but Dr Smith has kept him at his office since it occurred.”

  Anne’s relief was great.

  “I’ll go there directly, Mr Benwick. Thank you very much.”

  “You are welcome,” he said kindly, but Anne caught a hint of hesitancy in his eyes.

  “Maybe it would be best if I exited the way I came.”

  Benwick’s chin jutted suddenly.

  “Never, Miss Anne! You are as welcome in my shop as my own family.”

  “Thank you,” Anne replied, giving him a grateful look, “but if I go out the side door,” she still felt he needed a rescue, “I’ll nearly be at Dr Smith’s door.”

  “As you wish, Miss Anne, but I hope to see you soon.”

  “And you shall.”

  Anne went on her way, Benwick holding the door and smiling at her in genuine warmth as she exited. Anne’s heart was cheered that at least Benwick did not believe the worst of her reputation. She set her mind to seeing her father, checking on his health, and ascertaining whether he remembered the events of the past week.

  “Palmer,” Anne said patiently from her place in the church pew, “you don’t know what you’re asking.”

  “I do, Anne,” he said with a smile. “Liddy is most eager to see you, and I hate to disappoint her.”

  “I fear that her disappointment will be the lesser of your problems if I show my face at Tipton.”

  “You can’t honestly think that we believe poorly of you, Anne.”

  “No, I do not, but I was in town yesterday, and more than one person has made it clear that life in Collingbourne has changed for me.” Even as Anne said this, she remembered Mrs Smith’s words. She was not an unkind woman, but she was outspoken and had told Anne in plain terms that if she wasn’t willing to say where she’d been all week then, indeed, her virtue was in question. Anne had remained mute. Mr Weston was new to the area, and much as Anne hated having aspersions cast upon her, she needed to give Mr Weston a chance to establish himself.

  Palmer tried for several more minutes, having taken a seat next to Anne near the front, but she would not be swayed. He was left with no choice but to tell her that if she did change her mind, she would always be welcome. Squeezing her hand, he returned to sit with his children.