Maintaining that brave smile, she sat down with her beloved nephews as if she was a queen and they her most loyal subjects. If she was going to be ostracized, then no one would know the pain she felt. Besides, there was a silver lining to this mess. She didn't have to make polite conversation with Rick, something he seemed disinterested in as well. He hadn't looked once in her direction since their formal introduction so she was determined to do the same.
She divvied out the food for the boys and tried her best to ignore the laughter erupting from the adult table. It didn't help how easily she could discern Rick's laugh, either. He might be older, but his laugh was the same: full of heart and life. He had once told her he had rarely laughed until the day he met her and she had made it her mission to make him laugh every day. Now she could barely get him to look at her, let alone smile.
Her brave smile began to fade. To think, this mess was all her fault. Rick hadn't left her; she had given him up. Even after he had stormed the castle—her father's house—to change her father's mind, she had decided to err on the side of caution, relying heavily on her godmother's advice that they were too young, he was too wild, and marriage was too risky, often ending in unhappiness or divorce. And now he refused to forgive her for it. She could see it in his rigid stance and disdain to even talk to her again. She had broken his heart; he'd never trust her with it again. She couldn't blame him. He had been abandoned so many times by his foster homes that her betrayal must have been seen in the same light.
And as for being regulated to the kid table, that was her fault, too. She had always insisted on being removed from the adult table. The tension at dinners could be so thick that she often failed to enjoy the food. And she hated the polite smiles and forced conversations that were the norm. She preferred to stay in the cottage with the boys where she could pretend she was their mother and the cottage was her snuggly home. Though she had never confessed the latter, she had made it very clear how much she preferred being regulated to the kid table. And so here she sat, alone, while Rick lit up the party at the adult table like he was the sun and everyone else were planets. And she? She was the lonely comet spinning far out, able to see him, but not taste any of his warmth.
The boys finished their food early as she had expected. The picnic had already filled them up.
"Tell Grandma thanks for the meal," she told the two as they stood up.
"Thanks, Grandma!" They dutifully yelled and Anne couldn't help smiling. She may have lost the love of her life, but at least she had two adorable nephews to dote on.
"I'm taking them outside, "she announced to no one in particular and herded the boys toward the back door. They scampered outside and Anne was about to shut the door when she caught Louisa saying, "Oh, yes, she prefers being with the kids. She's amazing with them."
Anne stiffened her hold on the doorknob for a second but refused to check if Rick's eyes were on her. Raising her chin instead, she boldly walked out. He must have asked why she was always alone with the kids. And Louisa would probably regale him about how she was such a loner and many other unflattering things Anne had been saying for years.
She was rather surprised at herself. She had never minded being seen as a loner by her family. She had even welcomed the title when her older sister tried to shame her with it. Truth be told, she was a happy loner, happiest when she could keep her own company. But for some reason, she didn't want Rick to know that. Because the real truth was that if she had a choice of being by herself or being with him, she'd pick him in a heartbeat. He was the only person she had ever enjoyed being with more than herself. That shining memory of him had ruined her for any of the other men that had tried to win her heart. They had all lacked his brilliance, his humor, and his regalness, rendering them boring and uninviting. Back then, the constant boring men hadn't worried her. She had held onto the hope that Rick would return one day and all would be set right and she'd have the happily ever after marriage she had always dreamed about.
But that dream was gone now. And Anne just wanted to cry.
Chapter 11
An hour later, a revving engine penetrated the semi-quietness of the cottage. Leaving the boys with their building blocks, Anne moved to the front window and pulled back the curtain in time to watch Rick's sleek car wind itself up over the hill and out of sight. She stood there for another minute, a flurry of feelings going through her. The possibility of ever meeting him again was non-existent. And she couldn't make up her mind on whether she was happy or sad about that fact. She would always cherish the memories of those three perfect months when she was seventeen, but these recent three hours she would not cherish.
The sounds of crying tore her away from the window, calling her to solve the new fight between the boys. Walter had wanted the green block, but his older brother refused to surrender it, so Walter had smacked his brother's tower, causing it to tumble. Filled with rage, Charles retaliated with a shove. And tears soon came.
Shaking her head, Anne attended to the little one's crying while she admonished the angry older one, taking the time to hopefully instill some valuable life lessons. Alas, such important lessons were interrupted by the arrival of their mother.
"Anne! You didn't see Rick off!"
No more 'the Wentworth fellow,' Anne noted. She gave her youngest nephew another comforting hug, then stood up to face her sister. "I didn't see the need." With Charles' two sisters constantly at his side, she doubted Rick had noticed her absence.
"Well, that might be true. He hardly asked after you, probably forgot you even existed, but he was quite attentive to me." Mary beamed and went to the window as if she could spot the long-gone car. "He's been to Italy, did you know that? Never been on a cruise like I want to, but he's been there. And he managed to convince Charles it was worth going, too!" Mary plopped herself on the couch with a happy sigh. Now Anne understood why Rick was no longer the stuffy Wentworth fellow.
"Did you know," Mary continued, apparently needing to unload on someone and that lucky someone was going to be Anne, "some offshoot of his corporation does, oh, how did he call it? Timeshares or something like that, for unique experiences? Not that I could see how anyone would think this place was unique to pay big money to stay here, but Rick and Charles seemed confident that people would. And if Charles could finish the renovation with the old farmhouse, instead of the girls moving over there, they'd open it up for guests. Guests! People who would pay to come here and help Charles with the farm. Can you believe it? People actually considering this tiny spot as a vacation! Even worse, Rick mentioned the no cell service might actually be a plus. A plus!" Mary threw her hands up in disgust. "I swear, I shall never understand people as long as I live!"
"What about Charles' invention?"
Mary rolled her eyes. "He didn't like it, just like I predicted! I hope Charles will give up on that silly thing and do what Rick said and finish that farmhouse. I think that's a more sound idea and it would give my in-laws something to talk about instead of always complaining about me."
Anne couldn't help feeling sorry for Charles. All his hopes and dreams constantly failing. Sounded very much like her own life. She still wasn't quite sure what she should do now. With Rick permanently removed, her life seemed suddenly a lot emptier. She hadn't realized how much she had relied on the hope of his return and certainly hadn't considered a second option. She wished she could play a piano—she could make sense of her emotions and dreams far better in music than in her head—and while she was sure the Musgroves wouldn't mind, the type of music her current feelings would create would inspire questions she had little desire to answer.
The following day passed like a blur, her mind busy trying to conjure the music her hands should be playing. Not that anyone needed much of her brain, anyway. Mary, finally in a good mood, spent more time with her children, unfortunately freeing up Anne to dwell on her blighted dreams. Charles, on the other hand, kept busy with the farmhouse and, practically every hour, walked up the hill to check for any missed
phone calls or text messages. Mary teased her husband, claiming he should have insisted Rick send an email instead of calling since then he wouldn't be forced to do that uphill climb all the time and Charles was forced to admit that was a good idea. Mary beamed the rest of the day, even causing her in-laws to compliment on her good mood, making her even happier. Ironic that when Mary was in a good mood, she'd finally get the attention she craved, and yet constantly resorted to a foul mood in order to produce the same effect. But then, unhappy people often failed to realize that happiness must be sought, not demanded.
Anne contemplated that thought as she lay awake the next morning. She certainly was unhappy. Her life hadn't gone as she had planned and the plans others had for her weren't much better. Law school was out of the question. Nannying her nephews for the rest of her life had some appeal, but being stuck constantly attending to Mary's moods was not.
For the first time in seven years, she regretted avoiding Charles's attempts to win her over. This was before he met Mary. Actually, he met Mary because of her. While Charles had been quite handsome and quite determined to win her as a wife during that first year in college, he had paled in comparison to the fiery Rick encased in her heart and she had refused to give him a chance. If she had managed to forget Rick and married Charles, though, then this would have been her home, those sweet nephews would have been her boys, and the Musgroves would have been much happier with her as their in-law.
And yet, her godmother would have been so disappointed. Not to mention Anne, herself, wouldn't have been too pleased. Charles was a good man, but even after getting to know him as a brother-in-law, she still didn't see much appeal. She would have been a dutiful wife and supported him as best as she could, but his mind wasn't as quick as hers. She would have grown bored over the years, turning more and more to her children's happiness to avoid fading away like her own mother had. And her godmother's theory that marriage ruined a woman would have been vindicated.
No, marriage to Charles would have been an escape, not an answer. Anne needed to find something else. Something that would light a fire in her bones and make her eager to wake up each morning. Russelle's career did that for her so maybe Anne just needed to find the right career.
Not exactly happy with that conclusion, Anne rolled herself out of bed, donned the nearest clean clothing, and went out to start making breakfast. The morning was near gone, so it would be more like a brunch than a breakfast. Mary wasn't up yet, but Walter was already playing with the blocks while his older brother sat on the couch, arms folded in a grand pout.
Anne sat next to the pouting boy. "What's wrong?"
"Daddy won't let me come with him."
"Did he come back in already?" Charles, an early riser, usually returned to the house to make himself a quick breakfast—sharing the food with his kids—before resuming his work.
"He said I could go if I was dressed. I'm dressed! But he wouldn't let me go." He sunk his head. "Why can't I go? I'm a good helper. You said I was a good helper."
"That's right, you are. In fact, want to be a big helper and help me read this book?" She grabbed a book from a pile on the couch.
His eyes lit up. "Yes!"
She snuggled with him on the couch and opened up to the first page, but then Walter decided he wanted to help with reading, too. So, she helped him scramble onto the couch and was about to start reading when a knock interrupted their venture.
"Daddy!" Charlie bolted off the couch and Anne just shook her head. Charles would never knock. It was more likely one of his bored aunts looking for something to do. The boy flung the door open with great zeal, then immediately backed up in fright, staring up at the tall and very-not-his-father man. It was Rick.
Shock swept through Anne. The first thing she did was check her hair. She'd pulled it halfway up earlier, but she couldn't remember if it looked good or not.
"Aunt Anne!" Charles cried and Anne scolded herself. Her first thought should have been for Charlie's feelings, not about her stupid looks. The man probably hadn't even noticed her.
Little Walter whimpered and she scooped him up in her arms and rose from the couch, trying to pretend seeing her ex randomly at her sister's door was nothing unusual. Her mind raced, wondering what to say. Should she invite him in? But the house was a mess. She hadn't bothered to clean it the night before and apparently, neither had the parents. But why was he here, anyway? He was supposed to be gone for good. Or had he come back explicitly for her? Hope rose, unbidden. She'd be in his arms in one second if—
"I was told I'd find Charles here," he abruptly stated, his voice cold and stiff.
Her hope withered to small clump. "He should be working on the farmhouse."
"Right," he said. "Then I'll find him there. Sorry for bothering you. Have a good day." He gave a nod at Charlie, then turned on his heel and stormed away like an angry king. Anne sank back onto the couch, numb. Two minutes and he'd destroyed her entire day.
Walter squirmed out of her grasp and she shook herself. She couldn't let that man dictate her moods like that. If he was over her, then she should be able to do the same.
The plodding of feet alerted her to the arrival of Mary. "Why," Mary began, wrapping her robe closer around her body, "is the front door wide open? Charlie!" She barked at the oldest, still standing at the open door. He jumped in fright and slammed the door shut.
"Mr. Wentworth had knocked," Anne offered for Charlie's sake.
"He did?" Mary rushed to the window and swept aside the curtains. "Oh, there's his car! Up at the main house. Why do you suppose he's here? And so early! I'm not even dressed!" She rushed back to her room.
Anne sighed, then went to start the overdue breakfast. Mary rushed out ten minutes later with hardly a goodbye, heading up to see the stuffy Wentworth. Anne paused, then grinned. Apparently, she was now calling Rick the stuffy Wentworth. Well, it suited him and it certainly suited her mood.
She made enough food to feed both the boys and Mary, but the latter never showed up. Deciding she was probably eating at the main house, Anne focused on the kids and had them help with cleaning up the cottage in case the stuffy Wentworth decided to make a second surprise visit. Not that she believed he would. He had made it quite clear earlier that the first time had been torturous enough.
Once the front area had been spruced up, she gave in to her curiosity and peeked out the front window. His car was still parked in front of the main house. What was he doing here? Even if his boss had liked the place, Rick—err, the stuffy Wentworth could have emailed the contracts. There was no need for him to personally arrive. Maybe he liked Louisa or Rietta?
She shook her head. That was impossible. If he was going to fall in love with someone, it couldn't be while she witnessed it. He had to go elsewhere or just never show up again. Having him fall for someone she knew would be far worse than him failing to remember her.
Charlie tugged on her shirt. "Can we go outside?"
Anne hesitated. Going outside meant she could be seen by a certain someone. But then, forcing the boys to stay inside because she feared the stuffy Wentworth wasn't fair to the boys. She checked the window again. Not a sign of anyone. It's possible they wouldn't come out for a long time. Louisa and Rietta could be doing a concert or something.
Checking the window one last time, she nodded to Charlie. "Okay, let's go."
The boys cheered, but their cheer was ruined by Anne reminding them to get their socks and shoes on. Once they accomplished that, Anne let them invade the outside, directing them to their sandbox. Anne stationed herself next to it, well aware anyone from the main house could see them. She told herself she didn't care. It wasn't like anyone would venture down, anyway.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a fight between the boys and she stepped to play referee.
"Well, well, well!" A deep voice boomed behind her and Anne whirled around with a small cry. To her shock, she found Al Croft towering over her, a big grin on his face. "Are we building a mighty sand castle?"
Then a voice of reason piped up. Al was Rick's brother-in-law and she had seen Rick earlier. It was possible he had brought them here, though she had no idea why. A second later and Anne realized Al had asked a question. "Yes," she stated, focusing on the boys. They gazed up at the tall man and then at Anne as if expecting her to save them from the towering monster. With an amused smile, she crouched beside them to offer her support. Walter immediately clung to her arm. "Charlie, Walter, meet my friend, Al."
Al's eyebrows shot up and he focused on her. "How'd you—oh! It's the amazing Anne!"
Anne flushed. Another person had failed to recognize her, and this time, only a few weeks were in between. Though, to be fair, he had only known her for a few hours instead of three months.
"What brings you to this idyllic spot of heaven?" Al asked.
"Charles Musgrove is my brother-in-law."
"Ah ha! Rick didn't mention that."
Anne was not surprised.
"And who are these strapping boys?"
"This is Charlie and this," she wrapped her arms around Walter, still clinging to her, "is Walter. He's three," she added as if that would explain the shyness.
"Well, boys, can I help you create your sand castle?"
Both of them looked at her. She gave them an encouraging nod. Walter sunk deeper into her side while Charlie bravely held up a digging fork. "Can you make it really big?"
Al grinned. "Want it as big as me?"
Charlie lit up. "Yeah!"
"Then let's get digging!" The two began to heap mounds of sand into a pile. Anne tried to encourage Walter to join, but he wouldn't budge from her side. Al, noticing Walter's shyness, grabbed one of the buckets and pretended to fail to fill it with sand.
Persuading Him: A Modern Persuasion Retelling (Pemberley Estates Book 1) Page 9
