by Laura Martin
‘Not immediately. When I joined the army the conflict with Napoleon was just in its infancy. I was deployed to various places, but much of the fighting was done at sea. It wasn’t until I went to the Cape that I saw much in the way of action.’
It had never been his role to be at the forefront of a battle. His talents at negotiating, his ear for languages and his ability to blend in with different groups of people meant he was often used for the intelligence-gathering side of things before a conflict or negotiating a resolution afterwards.
Just before he could regale her with any tales of swashbuckling heroism a movement on the other side of the pond caught his eye. It was another couple, the man dressed in a garishly coloured jacket and the young woman giggling coquettishly. Normally he wouldn’t be in the slightest bit interested in the romantic liaisons of anyone else, but there was something about the way the man walked that made every muscle in his body tense and gave him the sensation of ice in his veins.
‘Harry?’ Anna said, turning towards him and placing her free hand on his upper arm.
Everything faded into the background, everything except the man approaching ceased to exist and Harry felt his body move without instruction. As if wading through treacle he stood and walked towards the couple, his hands bunching into fists by his side. The man hadn’t seen him yet, he was too engrossed in the words he was whispering to his companion, too enamoured with the sound of his own voice to notice Harry approaching.
‘Mountfield,’ Harry growled.
At first Captain Mountfield didn’t seem to recognise him and this made Harry even more irate. The scoundrel had ruined his sister, nearly been the cause of her death, and he didn’t even recognise Harry.
‘Lord Edgerton.’ The name finally passed Captain Mountfield’s lips after a few seconds.
The seconds ticked past as the two men stared at one another, the tension mounting until the lady on Captain Mountfield’s arm gave a nervous titter.
‘You haven’t introduced me, darling,’ she said.
Harry didn’t even look at her, finding it impossible to tear his eyes away from the only man in the world that he had ever hated.
‘Miss Francesca Pont,’ Captain Mountfield said quietly, his eyes never leaving Harry’s.
‘A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lord Edgerton,’ Miss Pont twittered.
All the hurt and distress his sister had suffered over the past year flitted before his eyes and Harry felt his fists tense. After five years in the army he abhorred violence, but right now it wasn’t his rational brain in control of his body.
‘Hit me and you’ll regret it,’ Mountfield hissed.
After Lydia and Mountfield had been found in a compromising position and the captain had refused to do the honourable thing and marry Lydia, Harry had challenged him to a duel. Captain Mountfield had refused, laughing in Harry’s face. He’d said he would tell the world all the dirty little details of his affair with Lydia if Harry didn’t leave him alone. Of course Harry had backed down, but part of him still really wanted to face this scoundrel with a gun or a sword in his hand.
‘I’ll remind all of society exactly how your sister disgraced herself last year.’
‘Be careful of the company you keep, Miss Pont,’ Harry said, stepping back and letting the couple past.
His whole body was shaking as he watched them walk away. As they disappeared into the distance he let out a muted growl and turned to look for some inanimate object to take out his pent-up rage on. Instead he found Anna standing behind him. Gently she took his hand in hers and squeezed his fingers.
‘I know a little about hatred,’ she said softly, ‘so I know how hard that must have been to let him walk away. Whatever he did, however you want to punish him, your love for your sister prevailed over that.’
Harry studied Anna’s face, letting his eyes roam over her pale skin, the curve of her perfectly pink lips and into her cool, grey eyes. As he focused on her he felt some of the rage start to seep away and his muscles begin to relax.
‘I don’t believe in fate,’ Anna said as she linked her arm through his and began to lead him back the way they had come. ‘I don’t believe that bad people get punished for their deeds, but perhaps one day whatever it is that he holds over your sister will not matter any longer and then you will be able to expose him for the scoundrel that he is.’
Chapter Ten
The carriage sped down the country lanes, winding this way and that over the rutted road, making it impossible for Anna to stay in one place on the narrow cushion, let alone focus on the book in her hand. Across from her sat her maid Grace, somehow managing to doze despite the jolting of the carriage. She felt a cautious optimism about this weekend. She dared not believe this might be the day they exposed her tormentor, but underneath careful layers of realism she was a little hopeful. It would be wonderful not to be always looking over her shoulder, not worrying about who might be watching her and following her. For months she had felt a sick anticipation every time the butler entered with a letter or a package.
Settling back on to the seat, one hand gripping the small ledge below the window, Anna turned her focus to the scenery outside. If her calculations were correct she should be arriving at Halstead Hall very shortly. Harry had gone on ahead a few days earlier to get everything prepared for the weekend and for propriety’s sake she was arriving along with the other invited guests.
All in all they had agreed on a guest list of twelve. It included the three Fortescue children, as well as the wives of the new Lord Fortescue and Mr Ronald Fortescue. Mr Lionel Fortescue, Anna’s brother-in-law, had sent his apologies, but was spending a few months in Scotland. They’d ruled him out as a likely suspect as it would be difficult for him to orchestrate the sending of the packages from so far away and by all accounts he’d been in Scotland for over two months already.
Harry had invited a couple of old friends, single young men who were there to keep the peace and also to entice Miss Antonia Fortescue to attend. She was in search of a husband and Anna suspected the only reason she’d agreed to come to the gathering was the prospect of wealthy, titled gentlemen in a confined area.
To finish off the guest list there was also Harry’s sister Lydia and the local vicar and his wife from the village of Halstead. All in all a strange party, but Anna knew the purpose of the event wasn’t to enjoy herself or make friends, it was purely to find out who was tormenting her.
Nevertheless she felt a surge of excitement as the carriage swerved into a wide driveway and Halstead Hall came into view.
It was a beautiful old house, set in magnificent rolling Kentish countryside. As they rattled up the long drive Anna could see a group of deer in the distance, the tiny fawns frolicking alongside their mothers. The house itself looked old but well maintained, perhaps originally Elizabethan, but with extra wings added over the centuries as was common in many of the country estates.
At each end of the property was a tower, complete with crenellations, and over the heavy front door was a coat of arms. Looking at Halstead Hall, she was in no doubt it was the home of one of the oldest families in England.
The carriage came to a stop and a footman was at the door immediately, offering her his hand to help her down. As her feet hit the floor the footman stepped back and Anna saw Harry emerge from the house, a delicate-looking young woman on his arm.
‘Lady Fortescue,’ he greeted, taking her hand and brushing a kiss against her knuckles. ‘Welcome to our home.’ His eyes twinkled in the sunlight and Anna knew he was enjoying himself already. In the short time she’d known Harry it had become clear he was an intelligent man, made for more than the dull life of the wealthy gentleman. She didn’t know much about his time in the army, but whenever he mentioned that part of his life he grew animated and his eyes lit up with enthusiasm. She supposed helping her find out who was sending her the unwelcome packages took him ba
ck to his army days a little.
‘This is my sister, Lady Lydia Pershore. Lydia, this is Lady Fortescue.’
Anna stepped forward and dipped into a curtsy in front of the young woman, as was the correct formal greeting. Lydia looked a little overwhelmed, so as she rose Anna gave her a conspiratorial smile.
‘You must call me Anna,’ she said.
‘I am Lydia.’
‘I have been wanting to meet you ever since your brother first spoke of you,’ Anna said, gently linking her arm through Lydia’s. She’d heard the gossip, pieced together a little of what had happened to Harry’s sister a year ago after she’d witnessed the confrontation between Harry and Captain Mountfield in Hyde Park. According to Beatrice, the scandal had been monumental, although her cousin seemed to think many things were worthy of that title. No one had seen or heard from the disgraced Lydia since she was found with very few clothes on in the arms of an army officer. As often seemed to be the case, Beatrice couldn’t even remember the army officer’s name, it was the daughter of an earl the society gossip had focused on.
Whatever had happened Anna didn’t want to know any more. She knew better than most how malicious gossip could hurt. No matter what rules of propriety Lydia had broken, Anna had no doubt she had been punished more than enough in the months since.
‘Am I the first to arrive?’ Anna asked.
‘I was meant to invite other people?’ Harry asked, barely able to keep the smile from his lips.
‘It would probably make for a more pleasant weekend without the Fortescues,’ Anna admitted.
Harry led them inside, and Anna tried not to look around with open-eyed amazement at the beautiful entrance hall. Her family had been wealthy, as had two out of three of her husbands, but never had she been anywhere with such plush furnishings.
‘We should have time for a quick tour,’ Harry said as they passed through the hall into a sitting room illuminated with the afternoon sunlight.
‘Won’t the other guests be arriving soon?’ Anna asked.
‘I might have told them an hour later,’ Harry said, not a hint of embarrassment for his deception evident in his voice. ‘I wanted to show you Halstead Hall first, without the Fortescues trying to push you down the stairs or poison your teacup.’
‘Harry,’ Lydia admonished with a gasp.
He shrugged. ‘The awful thing, dear sister, is that it could happen.’ He turned to Anna. ‘Come with me.’
Taking her by the hand, he pulled her quickly into room after room after room, explaining what they all were in a couple of words before moving on. He reminded Anna of an excited young boy, eager to show his new friend his home.
‘The music room,’ he declared as they entered a large room with a grand piano at one end. ‘Perhaps you’ll play for me one day.’
Letting go of Harry’s arm, Anna walked the length of the room and stood behind the piano, running her fingers across the shiny veneer on the lid before gently caressing the keys. As a young girl she’d spent hours playing the piano, loving the emotion that could be expressed in a single piece of music. No other instrument had the versatility of the piano, allowing soft, gentle notes to be followed by the loud, marching tunes.
‘Perhaps,’ she said, pressing a couple of the keys, hearing the perfectly tuned notes and wondering if she would ever feel that same love for music as she once had.
After a few moments they moved on, the tour taking her through the dining room and out on to the terrace before returning to the house.
‘Let me show you to your room,’ Harry said, leading her up the sweeping staircase to the first floor.
He unlocked the door to a large room filled with natural light. In the centre was a four-poster bed, flanked by two comfortable-looking armchairs. A dressing table and a wardrobe made up the rest of the furniture, but it was the view that commanded the most attention. Two large windows, both with window seats, looked out over the parkland. Rolling green hills dotted with oak trees stretched as far as the eye could see.
‘This bedroom has one of the finest views in the house,’ Harry said softly. He was standing right behind her, so close she could feel his breath on her neck. Ordinarily she would feel unsettled by having anyone so close to her, but not with Harry. She’d realised over the last few weeks that she felt safe with him, a peculiar sensation for someone who was used to living in fear, always wondering where the next unprovoked attack would come from.
‘Thank you,’ she said, turning to face him. He didn’t step away, instead moved a fraction closer, his hand reaching out to find hers. Anna looked up into his eyes, felt her heart pounding in her chest and couldn’t deny any longer the physical pull she felt whenever Harry was near.
For a long few seconds he studied her face, his free hand reaching up to brush her hair back from her forehead. Her skin tingled as his fingertips made contact and she shivered with anticipation as he traced a route past her temple and around her ear.
Never before had she wanted to be kissed as much as she did right now and as Harry stepped away she had to choke back a cry of frustration.
‘Let me show you my favourite part of the house,’ Harry said, taking her hand and pulling her from the bedroom, striding so quickly along the corridor Anna almost had to run to keep up. They passed door after door, room after room, so many that after a minute Anna had lost count. ‘This way,’ he said, leading her through a tiny, inconspicuous door at the end of the corridor, then up a tight spiral staircase. As they climbed the temperature dropped a few degrees and Anna got a sense of what Halstead Hall would have been like a few hundred years ago soon after it was first built. The walls were smooth stone and at regular intervals there were iron brackets on the walls, no doubt for a lighted torch to guide the way in the dark.
They emerged at the top of one of the towers Anna had noticed when she’d first alighted from her carriage. Although the day was still and calm, up here there was a little breeze, enough to rustle her skirts and whip the loose strands of hair across her face.
Carefully they picked their way over the uneven flagstones to the edge, where Harry leaned easily on the low stone wall. Anna wasn’t nearly so confident in the old stone’s stability, instead choosing to stand a pace back from the parapet.
‘It’s beautiful,’ Anna said, shielding her eyes from the sun as she looked out over the rolling countryside.
‘You can see for miles. I used to come up here when I was a boy and spend hours daydreaming.’
‘It’s very peaceful.’
‘That’s why I wanted to show you.’ He handed her a heavy iron key. ‘I know this weekend might be difficult for you, so many people who dislike you under one roof. If it ever gets too much, then I wanted you to have somewhere private, somewhere safe to come.’
Anna felt the weight of the key in her hand, swallowing the lump that was forming in her throat.
‘Thank you,’ she said softly.
‘There are only two keys—you have one and I the other. If you come up here and lock the door behind you, then only I will be able to follow you.’ He paused, continuing slowly, ‘If you do come up here, could I ask that you lock the door after you come back down. It doesn’t do to have the tower easily accessible to everyone.’
‘Of course.’
For a few minutes they stood side by side, looking out over the countryside. Anna had the sense Harry wanted to say something more, but he couldn’t find the words.
‘I know this weekend will be hard for you,’ he said eventually, ‘but do you think I could ask a favour of you?’
‘Anything.’
‘You shouldn’t agree before you know what I’m asking,’ Harry said with a mischievous glint in his eyes. ‘I could be requesting you join us for dinner in just your undergarments or run naked through the halls at dawn.’
She fixed him with an admonishing stare.
‘Of
course I wouldn’t do that to my lovely fiancée...’
‘Pretend fiancée,’ Anna corrected him.
‘Would you help my sister a little?’ he asked, his expression turning serious again.
‘Help in what way?’
‘You’re so good at being in society, socialising with people, even when you know they’re saying horrible things about you. I don’t know if you just don’t care what other people think, or if you’re very good at putting on a show of not caring, but it’s hard not to admire you for it.’
Harry’s words came out quickly. He was anxious, Anna realised. For the first time since they’d met he was actually nervous.
‘Lydia gets very upset by people, by the unkind things people say...’ he sighed ‘...even the unkind things she imagines people might be thinking.’
‘That’s no bad thing,’ Anna said quietly.
‘You don’t. Do you?’
She shrugged. Of course being called a murderer, a black widow and a harlot hurt, but long ago she’d realised they were only words and they could only do her damage if she let them. She supposed in a perverse way she had Lord Fortescue to thank for making her so strong, so resilient. He’d called her names and accused her of all sorts of untrue things every single day of their marriage—after a while she’d learnt to block out most of what he said.
‘I’ve had a lot of practice at ignoring them,’ Anna said. ‘It’s hardened me, made me cynical and untrusting. You don’t want that for your sister.’
‘She’s so unhappy,’ Harry said quietly. ‘I just want her to be happy.’
Anna reached out and placed her hand over his.
‘I will do anything to help you,’ she said, stepping closer. ‘Whatever you think is for the best.’
Harry was doing so much for her, going above what anyone could ever expect of him to help her find out who was tormenting her, the very least she could do was try to help his sister find her confidence in socialising again.
Chapter Eleven
