by Amy Corwin
After buttoning up the warm pelisse and arranging the shawl over her shoulders, Hannah thanked Mary and found her way downstairs as quickly as possible.
Sparkling laughter drifted through the library door near the foot of the stairs, revealing Gina’s presence. Hannah’s heart lifted. Smiling, she walked into the room.
Gina and the dowager were sitting cozily close to the fire, and Gina had one hand on Lady Blackwold’s wrist as she leaned forward to speak to her. Both ladies were grinning and seemed to be sharing such a pleasant conversation that Hannah suffered a sharp pang. She felt like a rude intruder standing there, a foreigner at the manor on sufferance. She almost hated to interrupt them.
Before she could speak, Gina glanced up. Welcome flashed in her huge brown eyes and her dimples deepened as her grin widened. “Hannah! Are you ready to go to Pencroft?”
“Yes, if you still want to go.” She caught the dowager’s gaze. “I apologize for interrupting.”
Lady Blackwold snorted and flicked her wrist to release Gina’s grasp. “You look like a ghost from my past, pallid and standing there in my old pelisse and bonnet. But if you believe you are well enough to walk to the village, you have my blessing.” She frowned and glanced around the room. “I haven’t the least notion where Blackwold or Henry have gone.” She sighed and shook her head. “However, I suppose a lack of male companionship will not stop two such modern young women from galloping across the landscape in any direction they wish.”
Standing, Gina covered her mouth, but a merry giggle still escaped her. “I have Hannah and she has me for company, so we shall be quite proper, I assure you. And we will stop for tea at the vicarage, and nothing could be more proper than that.”
Lady Blackwold snorted. “Well, there is no convincing you otherwise, I’m sure. So I won’t even try. Give my love to your uncle Carter and tell him it wouldn’t be amiss for the vicar to perform his duty once in a while and visit his old, widowed mother. I daresay he has sufficient time to visit any number of ladies in the village to give them the benefit of his counsel and support, so he can find the time for me.”
“But you know you don’t need his counsel, dear Grandmother. Quite the reverse,” Gina replied with a laugh. She bent and kissed the dowager on the cheek and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “But I shall tell him you are awaiting a visit from him. No doubt he will come immediately. Or nearly so.” She looked at Hannah. “He may even bring us back and stay for supper.”
“Or he will have some excuse, as he usually does,” Lady Blackwold replied in a dry voice. She shook her head and waved them away. “No matter. Be gone, you two, and leave me be. Alone. Sitting here by the fire with no one to talk to.” She let out a heavy sigh. “Not that it matters.”
Frowning, Hannah stepped forward, but Gina caught her arm and shook her head, her eyes twinkling with mirth. “Never fear, Grandmother. You can always ring for Mary.”
“That dour old woman? I’d sooner drink a pint of vinegar.”
“She’s at least thirty years younger than you, dearest Grandmother,” Gina pointed out sweetly. “However, perhaps Blackwold is around somewhere. I’m sure he will be glad to keep you company. Well, we must be off.” She yanked Hannah to the door and closed it behind them before her grandmother could reply.
In a matter of minutes, they’d stepped outdoors. The air was crisp and carried the unmistakable salt tang of the sea. The distant cry of gulls rang through the air, and Hannah caught the trim form of a tern pass overhead. She took a deep breath. As the fresh, clean air filled her lungs, it seemed to push all the remaining illness and weakness away.
Overhead, white fluffy clouds scudded across the crystal blue sky, and despite the sere, gray and black winter landscape, she felt a surge of happiness. Some green was rising through the ground, life anew sprouting, and it was good to be outside on such a glorious day.
Linking arms with Hannah, Gina set a moderate pace, chattering about inconsequential things, starting with the fine weather, the color of the sky and how it was just a few shades lighter than Hannah’s eyes, the ribbons one might acquire in the village that might also match Hannah’s blue eyes, and from there, various points of current fashion.
Hannah nodded contentedly, only half-listening. Fashion had never really interested her, although she did appreciate fine clothing. A gust of chilly wind trickled down the hollow of her neck, and she fastened the top button of her pelisse and pulled the thick shawl more closely around her. Walking kept her mostly warm, and the kid boots Mary had given her did fit fairly well, but the breeze was still a little raw and damp.
By the time they reached the village, Hannah’s feet were dragging and her limbs were shaking. Perhaps it was too soon to go on such a long walk. She slumped a little when Gina dragged her into a small shop on the busy main street of Pencroft.
Instead of the male shopkeeper she expected, a very plump woman greeted them with pleasure, her round face dimpling and her dark eyes sparkling, the image of a woman who enjoyed gossiping almost as much as selling her goods. “Miss Hodges! I heard you were here, visiting your grandmother, the Dowager Lady Blackwold. What an honor to see you in my little shop!”
“Yes, Mrs. Shaw.” Gina pulled Hannah forward. “I brought my friend, Miss Cowles, lately from Boston. Miss Cowles, this is Mrs. Shaw, the owner of this lovely emporium.”
Mrs. Shaw’s smile disappeared for a moment. Her gaze hardened so briefly that Hannah wondered if she’d truly seen the narrowing of her eyes. Then, mindful of Gina’s presence, Mrs. Shaw nodded. “An honor, I’m sure.” Her face brightened, and she bent behind the counter where she stood and pulled out a wide box, which she set on the scarred wooden surface. “I got them ribbons I told you about last time you was here, Miss Hodges.” She flicked open the lid and shoved it beneath the counter, all the while smiling at Gina.
“Oh! Do you have any yellow ones?” Gina stepped forward and bent over the box, sifting through the rainbow colors of silk ribbons.
“Yes.” Mrs. Shaw laughed. “No need to tangle them into knots.” She deftly began pulling out ribbons in all shades of yellow, from the palest to the richest golden color that turned almost orange in the sunlight. “There’s any color you wish, Miss Hodges. I ordered them special, hoping you’d honor us with a visit.”
“Look at this one, Hannah!” Gina picked up a deep medium yellow and held it up beside her face, near one of the curls bobbing over her temple. The color brought out the rich red-gold highlights in her brown hair and made her brown eyes gleam with gold specks.
“That one suits you very well,” Hannah said, hesitating before she stepped closer. She was aware that the shopkeeper wasn’t sure about her, and Hannah sensed that if she’d entered the shop without Gina, Mrs. Shaw may have turned around and disappeared into her back room, effectively refusing to serve her.
The rumors about her must have reached every ear in the village, Hannah thought ruefully. They all believed she’d been ravished by some man and then abandoned on the road where the dowager found her.
Her previous good spirits evaporated. Once again, she felt shaky and ill with weariness. Her hands felt cold and damp, despite her gloves, and she rubbed them over her arms. She shouldn’t have agreed to come. It was foolish. In fact, she’d be fortunate if she didn’t become ill again as a result.
“Do you have any blue ones that might match Miss Cowles’s eyes?” Gina asked. Her busy fingers had set aside a green ribbon as well as the yellow one and were now sifting through the other colored strands.
“There’s a few blue,” Mrs. Shaw replied grudgingly. She pulled out a silvery blue and a medium blue ribbon from the increasingly tangled pile.
Gina picked up the medium blue one and held it up to Hannah’s face. “This one would look so much better than those fusty old black ribbons, if you insist on wearing that bonnet. You should purchase it!”
Hannah flushed and caught Mrs. Shaw’s knowing glance. She didn’t have any money of her own at the moment. Or even a g
own. Every garment she wore was a cast-off from the dowager.
“I know!” Gina clapped her hands and then pulled at the strings of her reticule. “It shall be my present to you! A welcome gift!” She looked at Hannah, her eyes warm with sympathy. “You cannot refuse, you know. It simply isn’t done!”
Gina proceeded to haggle over the three ribbons, driving the price down so low that even Hannah was surprised that Mrs. Shaw agreed. Apparently, there were very few souls who could resist Gina’s high spirits. Or her determination.
Shopping successfully concluded, Gina linked arms again with Hannah, gave her an assessing look, and yanked her once more down the street. “I believe we should see if my uncle Carter is at home. I am famished and absolutely faint with exhaustion, although you appear ready to walk to China if need be.”
“Not quite China,” Hannah protested with a laugh. “And you really shouldn’t have bought that ribbon for me.”
“Nonsense. It was a welcome gift. You have set foot on England’s rocky shore for the first time—and under not so very pleasant circumstances, I might add—so it is time something agreeable happened to you.”
“A great many very pleasant things have happened to me!” The image of Blackwold leaning over her last night, his linen shirt open at the neck, and his warm lips pressed against her forehead returned. Her cheeks grew warm. “Your grandmother—”
“Grandmother!” Gina snorted. “She only does what it amuses her to do. Not that we don’t all adore her,” she added hastily.
“You have all been exceptionally kind to me—more kind than I deserve,” Hannah replied. Warm tears pricked her eyes, and she blinked rapidly. “I don’t know what I would have done without your family and your grandmother in particular.” She managed a laugh, although her throat was tight with emotion. “Why, I wouldn’t have a stitch to wear if it were not for her.”
“Pshaw.” Gina made a rude noise. “She only gave you things which even Mary would not accept. Have you looked at the waistline of that walking dress you are wearing? Thank goodness the pelisse hides its worst faults. That dress must be fifteen years old at the very least. It might even be older than I!”
“It looked very nice to me, and Mary did a marvelous job remaking it. I have absolutely nothing to complain about.”
“Then you colonists either have no sense of fashion, or you lag behind us by twenty years.”
Straightening, Hannah sucked in a sharp breath. The Blackwold clan certainly could not be faulted for being too meek.
Gina laughed, squeezed Hannah’s arm, and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. She seemed to be forever kissing people as if to wipe away the unhappy effect of her words, but Hannah really couldn’t stay mad at her.
“I’m sorry, but it is only the truth,” Gina said, not sounding at all apologetic.
An unwilling smile curved Hannah’s mouth. “You are forgiven. However, you might try to be a little more, um, discreet if you plan to attend many social events in London.”
“You sound just like Grandmother.” Gina giggled. “As if she had any room to criticize. She is even more horribly outspoken than I.”
“Well, you don’t want to be given the cold shoulder because you speak without consideration, so you might want to consider that.”
“You don’t think I might not earn a reputation for being refreshingly honest? I think it might be to my advantage, truly.”
“With certain people, perhaps, though I’m not sure they are the sort you would wish to court. They would have to cherish no social ambition whatsoever.”
“Or consider that marrying the cousin of a marquess is an exalted enough position to not care what anyone else thinks,” Gina said in a surprisingly mature way.
Hannah frowned and glanced at her, wishing that the girl were not so aware of Society’s realities. It would be nice if she maintained some illusions and ideals. It would be even nicer if she could fall in love like a normal girl without worrying about the opinion of Society.
Unfortunately, Gina was already aware that she was going to London to attract an alliance with someone of sufficient rank to earn her family’s approval. Liking would be a benefit, but marriage would ultimately be more of a business affair than an affair of the heart.
So perhaps it was best that she didn’t suffer from any illusions, after all.
Again, Hannah couldn’t help a wistful thought of Blackwold. He, too, was in the midst of contract negotiations for the business of marriage.
So why did her thoughts turn to him, again and again?
She was nothing in his eyes—she couldn’t even prove who she was in order to gain access to the money her father’s lawyer had transferred here for her. Her chest tightened, leaving her breathless. It was so unfair—to lose everything, including her friends, her money, and her reputation in one terrible night.
For a moment, she wished she’d never decided to come to England to see the home of her father and find a place where she could belong. She should have stayed in Boston like the scruffy, elderly lawyer recommended. She could have made a home for herself there, even if she found the streets too busy and noisy for her taste.
“Here we are,” Gina announced, releasing Hannah’s arm. She opened the white-painted gate and stepped through onto a narrow path that led to a modest cottage.
Hannah glanced around, noting the small, stone church next door. So this tidy little house with the winter-bleak front yard was the vicarage. The building looked well-maintained and neat, with a solemn, black-painted door and black shutters framing the windows, but it didn’t feel welcoming to Hannah. Perhaps it was simply her sour mood and exhaustion after their long walk.
To her surprise, before they reached the two shallow, gray stone steps leading to the stoop, the front door opened.
Henry Hodges stood framed in the doorway, one hand setting his hat on his head.
“Cousin Henry!” Gina exclaimed. “Are you visiting Uncle Carter, too?”
He glanced at her, his brows arching in surprise before he saw Hannah standing a little ways behind her. “Ladies—I did not realize you were planning a trip to the village.” Concern tightened his mouth and brow. “Miss Cowles, I am surprised to see you so soon after your illness.” He sketched a brief bow. “Though, of course, you are looking as lovely as ever. You should have informed me of your intentions. I could have driven you here.”
“We are not that helpless, Cousin,” Gina said with a laugh. “It is only a mile.”
A movement in the hallway beyond Mr. Hodges made Hannah glance inside the house. The first thing that caught her gaze was a large, rectangular object with curved sides. She stared, her heartbeat quickening.
My trunk! Her glance flew to Mr. Hodges’s face.
A fleeting expression rippled over his features, one she couldn’t quite identify.
“Where is Uncle Carter? There is no reason for us to stand out here gaping at one another. We are exceedingly tired and would like a cup of tea.” Gina pushed past her cousin. “What is this trunk doing here? I almost fell over it—how inconsiderate of you to leave this nasty thing right in the middle of the hallway.”
Mr. Hodges smiled, his gray eyes glimmering as he bowed again to Hannah and gestured for her to enter in front of him. “It is a surprise for Miss Cowles, my little goose. Though I wish you hadn’t spoiled it.”
“Uncle Carter!” Gina squealed and threw herself at a black-clad man standing just beyond the trunk. “Are you pleased to see us?”
He smiled and gave her a stiff-armed hug. “I am always pleased to see you, my dear. However, I know you have better manners than these. Who is this charming young lady?”
“That is Miss Cowles,” Gina answered. “From Boston. In the United States of America.”
“Yes, I know where Boston is located. Perhaps better than you, so behave yourself, Georgina.” He bowed to Hannah. “And since my niece seems incapable of completing this introduction, may I present myself? Carter Hodges, Vicar of Pencroft, at your service, M
iss Cowles.”
The dim light of the hallway revealed a tall, slender man with dark hair cut very short and shot with silver at the temples. Another patch of silver sprouted from the hairline above the center of his forehead, and for an instant, Hannah was reminded of a skunk she’d glimpsed once. She stifled the ridiculous thought and smiled at him. He had gray eyes like his nephew, Henry, but a much more serious expression, and deep lines bracketed his mouth. A griffin ring on his right hand caught a flash of light from the small window next to the front door. This one had topaz eyes that glinted a dull yellow when he moved his hand.
His thin shoulders sloped down from his long neck, making him look like a man forced to carry a heavy burden, or perhaps the burdens of others, given his occupation.
“I am so sorry to intrude,” Hannah said, feeling uncomfortable in the narrow confines of the little hallway.
Henry had entered behind her and closed the door, dimming the light in the cramped space. She pressed her hand to her chest. It was ridiculous, but it felt as if all the air was slowly being drained away, stifling her. Her toes practically touched the side of her trunk, Gina stood a mere yard away, with Carter Hodges just a foot beyond her. She glanced up to find Carter’s eyes fixed upon her.
Not only was she being ridiculous, she was being rude. She forced a smile.
“I am always pleased to have a visit from my niece, especially when she brings such a lovely visitor with her,” the vicar replied. His voice was so precise and measured that it had all the emotional resonance of a ticking clock.
She could only imagine how inspiring he would be giving a sermon in that voice and be relieved that no one had insisted she attend the small church.
“Is this indeed your trunk, Miss Cowles?” Henry asked as he swept off his hat. He placed it in the crook of his arm and gave her an encouraging smile.
