Mrs Culver found herself curtsying in response to the authoritative tone in Anne’s voice, and left the room rather apprehensively, wondering if she was making a mistake. Those last sentences had sounded as if they came from someone of quality, not at all the owner of a shabby dress.
But she delivered Anne’s message as requested that evening. And Master James’s air of disappointment reassured her once again that she was doing the right thing.
* * *
After Mrs Culver had gone, Anne sat at the window for some time with the book on her knee, but it lay unread. She was deep in thought. The housekeeper’s suspicions were ridiculous, but Anne could not disagree with her basic message. The sooner she left Hatherton the better. She sighed and set about some serious thinking…
She reflected again on the previous night’s dreams. The red door—where was it? She could almost believe she had actually tried and failed to knock on that door, and not just in her dream…She had been excited, full of happy anticipation, she remembered…But though she tried to hold on to it the picture dissolved and turned into a pool of blood. She heard her own voice shouting hoarsely, ‘No! No! It can’t be!’ and she suddenly felt sick. She thrust the image violently away out of her mind, and the pool vanished. But she was still shivering with horror…James’s book slid to the floor as she jumped up and walked agitatedly round the room, resolutely keeping her mind blank. She would not remember, it was better not to remember…
After a moment or two she had calmed down enough to sit down again and turn her mind to other matters. Was there a clue in the petticoat and the rest of her clothes? Had the boots and dress belonged to someone else? But who could that be…?
* * *
When Rose came in Anne was wearing nothing but the blue robe, anxiously examining her underwear.
‘Help me to look at these things, Rose,’ she said. ‘There must be something about them that will tell us where they came from.’
‘I’d say that they were especially made for you, Miss Anne. You can tell that by looking at this shaping. But there’s nothing else. And this dress is just like one the girls in the village wear.’
Anne pushed the clothes away dispiritedly. ‘I’m quite tired. I think I shall go to bed, Rose. Mrs Culver knows I don’t wish to see…anyone tonight.’
Rose nodded sympathetically. ‘You’ve done too much today, miss. But his lordship will be sorry not to see you.’ She said no more as she busied herself helping Anne to prepare for bed, but just before leaving the room she asked if Anne would like a glass of milk later on. ‘It’s a long time till morning, Miss Anne. A glass of milk might be welcome. I won’t wake you if you’re asleep.’
Too weary to argue, Anne nodded her head. She was already half-asleep by the time Rose had made up the fire, drawn the curtains and slipped quietly away.
She slept soundly and dreamlessly for several hours, but woke up when she heard her door open. The fire had died down somewhat, but there was enough light for her to see someone entering the room and approaching the bed.
* * *
‘Rose?’
‘I’m afraid it isn’t Rose.’ James Aldhurst put the glass of milk he was carrying down on the table by the bed, picked up her candlestick and took it over to the fire. In a few minutes the soft glow of candles was creating a pool of light round the bed.
Chapter Five
‘You shouldn’t be here!’ whispered Anne.
‘It isn’t late. No later than when I came last night. How is your head?’
‘My head? Oh, yes, my head! It’s much better, thank you. Why did you come?’
‘I was afraid you might be ill again. So when I saw Rose with the glass of milk I said I would deliver it.’
‘You shouldn’t have done that. Mrs Culver—’
‘Mrs Culver is in bed with a headache. Let me help you to sit up.’
He leaned over, and supported her with one arm while he rearranged her pillows. ‘There! Now drink the milk.’
He handed her the glass and sat down on the edge of the bed. She sipped it, looking at him warily over the rim of the glass. He took the glass from her and said, ‘I have some news for you.’
Anne leaned forwards eagerly. ‘You’ve found out who I am!’
‘No, no! Nothing as helpful as that.’ When she sank back disappointed against the pillows he went on, ‘But it might be a beginning. There was a coach accident the night we found you. It’s thought that the driver took a wrong turning a mile or two back along the Portsmouth Road and ended up stranded by a stretch of flood water. He tried to get back over Firland Cross Bridge, which any local knows is barely wide enough for a cart, let alone a full-sized coach. The coach lost a wheel and crashed into the stream.’
‘Who was he? Where is he now?’
‘Ah, that’s the problem. He can’t have been very seriously injured. The coach was a complete wreck, so he took the horses and abandoned it. He has disappeared.’
Anne didn’t respond. She was staring into the darkness, her eyes full of horror. James went on, ‘It’s probable there were two of them, but if so the other one has disappeared, too. There were two horses. Two horses and two men.’
‘Two men. One on the box, one inside,’ whispered Anne, her eyes wide and unfocused. ‘That’s all. Only two. One on the box and one inside. Don’t give up hope! There are only two of them. One on the box and the other—’ She suddenly gave a scream and thrust out her hands in a frantic gesture to save herself. ‘Aaah! Oh, please God, help me!’
‘Anne? Anne!’ James took her by the shoulders and shook her. For a moment she was rigid, staring at him without seeing him. Then she relaxed, gave a shuddering sigh, and threw herself into his arms. He held her close as she said hoarsely, ‘The coach overturned and water was rising inside it. I thought I was going to die. But I fought…and suddenly I was free…The stream was cold, but it wasn’t far to the bank…And afterwards I ran and ran. I had such a pain in my side, I didn’t know where I was going, but I dared not stop. I could hear them behind me…Then I slipped and I was so sure they would catch me again…’
She was shivering, and he held her fast, stroking her hair. ‘Hush, hush. You didn’t die, they didn’t catch you, and you’re quite safe here with me.’
She lay in the circle of his arms and gradually the shivering stopped and she was quiet. Still holding her, he sat, thinking over what she had just said. This was without doubt the coach that had carried her into the district. He must have a look at it tomorrow.
That was for tomorrow, but tonight he was beginning to realise exactly what Anne had been through. She had at last remembered something, but he could almost wish it had remained buried for her sake—the horror of the accident, her helplessness as the water rose inside the coach, her certainty that she was about to drown…And then her panic-stricken flight, which had ended in her collapse on the drive at Hatherton. Throughout it all was her refusal to give in, her determination to survive. Sam had called her a brave lass, but he didn’t know the half of it. James was visited by a fierce desire to defend her, to find the villains who had put her into such mortal danger, and make them suffer for it.
He sat holding her for a little longer, surprised again at the depth of his feelings. They were a far cry from the light-hearted flirtations, the short-lived affairs, which had earned him his grandmother’s disapproval. But he wasn’t sure that that lady would approve of his growing interest in Anne, either. In fact, he was damn certain she wouldn’t! He could hear her now, not shouting—his grandmother never shouted—but with a voice icy with anger. ‘What are you trying to do, James? Ruin us? Make us the laughing stock of the scandal sheets? Have you considered what the world will make of this? Barbara Furness, Mary Abernauld, Clara Paston—all of them the cream of London society! And now you insult them and me by spending your time with a…a nameless nobody. Aldhurst of Roade House and Miss Who Knows What of Nobody Knows Where! I won’t have it, I tell you! I won’t have it!’ Yes, he was quite sure his grandmothe
r would not approve. Shaking his head ruefully, he put Anne gently back against the pillows. For the moment it was more important to establish her identity. He looked at her. There were traces of tears on her face, but she looked very beautiful. He bent over and kissed her cheek. She murmured a small protest, but didn’t wake. James picked up one of the candles, blew the rest out and left.
* * *
The next day he had an early breakfast, collected Sam Trott and was soon on his way to the site of the accident. It promised to be a fine spring day, and as he rode along he decided he would take Anne for a walk outdoors when he got back. Fresh air and new surroundings would be good for her. She would be safe in Hatherton’s walled garden, sheltered from prying eyes as well as any cold winds, and he was sure she would enjoy it.
How would he feel if today was the day her memory came back? Glad, of course, there was no question of that. The present state of affairs couldn’t last for ever. And if she remembered her proper place in the world he must help her find her way back to it. The thought was surprisingly unwelcome and he thrust it aside and concentrated instead on what they would find at Firland Cross.
They had no difficulty in finding the coach. The flood waters had by this time completely subsided, and someone had hauled it out of the stream and left it on the bank.
‘There’s nothing much here,’ said Sam, clambering over the wreck. ‘You wouldn’t get more than a guinea or two for the whole lot. And I tell you, Master James, it can’t have been a comfortable ride for anyone, let alone someone with their hands tied together.’ He was now rummaging inside. ‘It’s completely empty. There’s nothing here at all.’
James was walking along, examining the bank. He bent down and called, ‘Look, here’s where the horses got out. The ground is soft after the rain and you can still see their hoof marks. And this must be where our girl escaped. See?’
Sam didn’t reply, and when James looked up he saw that the groom was out of the coach and standing on the bank, his eye fixed on a figure walking purposefully down the hill with a gun in his hands. James abandoned his search and joined him on the bank, but he laughed as the bluff, homespun figure approached, ‘It’s all right, Sam. It’s one of my grandmother’s tenants, Holford from Firland Farm—though he’s put on some weight since I last saw him. Good day to you, Mr Holford.’
‘Well, bless my soul, if it isn’t Master James! How are you, my lord?’ The farmer put the gun under his arm and shook hands. Then he gave a great laugh and said, ‘I thought for a minute you were one of them ruffians come back to have another look at that coach.’
‘Ruffians? What ruffians?’ asked James with interest.
‘Nat and I saw a couple of suspicious characters round that coach few days ago. I don’t suppose you remember Nat, my lord? He’s my youngest boy.’
‘Of course I do. He must be fourteen or fifteen by now.’
‘Aye, and he’s a strapping lad, though he’s just fourteen.’
‘These “suspicious characters”, Mr Holford. You’ve seen them before? Spoken to them?’
‘No, we haven’t. And we didn’t have a chance to speak to them the other day, either. They ran off as soon as they saw us coming down the hill. They were likely looking for something, but there wasn’t anything to find. Nat and one or two of the men had pulled the wreck out of the stream the day before, but there wasn’t much left in it—just an empty purse and a bit of rope.’
‘Let me know if the men come back again, Holford. And if you still have that purse I’d like a look at it.’
‘Here’s the purse, my lord. You can have that with pleasure, but we threw the rope away.’
James was turning the purse over in his hands. As Holford had said, it was empty, but when he pulled it flat he could see that it had a monogram of sorts embroidered on one side. An A and a C…AC…Anne C…?
Holford’s voice broke into his thoughts. ‘If we happen to find anything else I’ll send Nat over with it, shall I?’
‘I’d be obliged if you would.’ James spent a minute or two longer with Holford, but left as soon as he could. The purse was not much of a clue, but it might provide the trigger for Anne’s memory. He would show it to her when he got back.
* * *
Meanwhile, Anne had woken up, and when she found that she could remember everything from the night before she was full of eager anticipation. Perhaps this morning…? But the excitement died away again when she discovered that her name was still a blank, along with the rest of her past. For a while she was despondent at the thought of spending yet another day without a name, but then Rose came in, and by the time she was dressed she was more cheerful. Lord Aldhurst had invited her to breakfast the day before. She might be invited to join him for breakfast again today. At the very least he was sure to pay her a visit to see how she was. Rose went away and Anne sat waiting for him.
But it was Mrs Culver who came, and when Anne reluctantly asked after Lord Aldhurst she told her he had already left the house.
Her disappointment was so intense that, before she could stop herself, she asked, ‘Did he…did he leave a message for me?’
The housekeeper shook her head. ‘He probably forgot,’ she said with a touch of satisfaction. ‘His lordship can’t inform anyone and everyone about his plans for the day. He’s a busy man.’ She put her tray down and busied herself setting the table by the fire. ‘He has a number of friends in the district, of course. Or he might be up at Roade House with the caretaker there. After all, that’s why he came to Hatherton in the first place, though he hasn’t so far done much about it. One visit to Mr Agnew, that’s all—and that didn’t last long.’ She put the last touches to the table. ‘Your breakfast is ready, miss.’ As she left he room she added, ‘One thing I do know is that he won’t want to waste any more time. Lady Aldhurst will expect him back in London before long.’
* * *
Lower than ever in spirits, Anne ate her breakfast alone, and then, determined to put her disappointment behind her, walked vigorously round her room until she was quite out of breath. Lord Aldhurst had his own life to lead, she told herself as she marched round. He had already been extraordinarily kind to her, and she must not expect more. Perhaps he had been embarrassed by her breakdown last night, and was keeping his distance. Or perhaps he was visiting friends in the neighbourhood. The neighbours might have a beautiful, eligible, suitable daughter…She realised she had come to a standstill, and with an impatient shake of her head she started off round the room again. This would not do! The sooner she accepted that James Aldhurst was out of her reach, and worked out how to leave Hatherton, the better! From now on she would concentrate on getting stronger and forget how interesting he could be, how charming, how very handsome…She realised with a start that she had stopped and was gazing into space yet again! She must stop being such a lovesick idiot! Anne pulled herself together and circled the room several more times until she had calmed down. Then she picked up her book with determination and began to read.
* * *
But when James eventually came in the book was on her lap and she was sitting, gazing out of the window. She jumped when he spoke, and her book fell to the floor.
‘I’m sorry if Persuasion was not to your taste,’ he said, picking it up and replacing it. ‘I was so sure it would be. How are you?’
‘I am well, thank you,’ she replied, doing her best to disguise her pleasure at seeing him. ‘And I loved Persuasion and would like to read some more of Miss Austen’s books.’
‘You’ve finished it? Good! I have another in mind for you, but we’ll leave that for later.’ He came round to examine her more closely. ‘You looked surprised when I came in.’
‘That was because I wasn’t expecting to see you.’
‘Why not? You must have known I’d be back if only to see how you were after last night. Do you still remember what you told me? It was quite harrowing.’
‘Yes. I can remember everything I said—every word. But no more than that.’ She
paused, and added bitterly, ‘Certainly not my name.’
He put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. ‘Don’t lose heart, Anne. I have something here that just might help. Look.’ He produced the purse the farmer had found in the coach. ‘Does this mean anything to you? The initials could be yours.’
Anne held the purse in her hands for several moments, staring at it. Then she turned it over, smoothed it with her finger, held it up. ‘A…C…A for Anne? A for Annabel? Alice? Amy? And C…C for what?’ She shook her head and thrust the purse back into his hand. ‘They could be my initials,’ she said abruptly, ‘but as far as I know I’ve never seen the thing before.’ She jumped up, walked away and stood with her back to him. ‘I just don’t remember it!’ she said in a stifled voice.
He gazed at her in silence for a moment, then said, ‘It’s too sunny a day to waste indoors. How would you like to see the garden? Hatherton is proud of its gardens.’ She hesitated, uncertain what to do. ‘It would be good for you,’ he said persuasively. ‘You won’t be cold. The garden is sheltered from the wind—a shawl would be enough. I’ve brought one for you and I’ve even borrowed a hat from Rose.’ When she still remained silent he put the shawl round her shoulders and a simple flat straw hat on her head and led her over to the mirror. ‘There—see how pretty you look! Not a squint or a black eye in sight! Shall we go?’
He led her downstairs, along a corridor to the back of the house and out into the warm spring sunshine.
Anne stopped to breathe in the fresh, herb-scented air, and then, with a sudden lift of spirits, she smiled at him and said, ‘Thank you.’
James smiled back at her and said, ‘Wait till you see what comes next!’ He took her along a stone-flagged path, which ended in a gate set in a high wall. ‘This particular garden is my grandmother’s creation,’ he said as he unlocked the gate. ‘It’s her special place, though now she leaves the work to her gardener while she sits and watches what he’s doing. Whenever she is at Hatherton this is the place you are most likely to find her, no matter what the season.’
Reawakening Miss Calverley Page 6