“I think you meant exactly that!” she snapped back.
“Why must you always be so argumentative?” he demanded. Recently she had been rather snippy with him. He wanted to believe that it was because she was as frustrated with their relationship as he was, but he couldn’t be sure. Still, no matter how angry she became with him, the fire in her eyes was infinitely preferable to the simpering attitude of Ada.
“Because I am concerned about you overextending yourself on my behalf, that means I’m argumentative?”
“I could buy half of London and not overextend myself,” he answered, although he immediately regretted it as her back stiffened. She didn’t like to be reminded of the inequality of their finances and whilst he was exaggerating, that was the first time that he had ever hinted at just how wealthy he was.
“Anna, please, I just want to help you and this could work out very well for both of us. Your shop would be safe and we would have the house upstairs to meet in, discreetly. ”
If possible, her back straightened even more and she sat down behind the desk with the composure that one might associate with a queen.
“I believe that you have taken my caricature to heart,” she said stiffly. “I am not your mistress, now or ever.”
“Oh come on, Anna, you cannot deny what is between us, any more than I can ignore it.”
“There is an attraction between us, I will not deny it but unlike you, I am not ruled by my baser instincts.”
“Baser instincts?” he sounded incredulous, hurt by her words. He began to pull his gloves on. “If that’s what you think this is, then you are an even bigger fool than I had previously imagined. Good day, Miss Wyatt.” He turned and strode from the room.
Annabelle watched him leave, feeling hurt by his words but more than that, confused. He wanted something from her that she very much wanted to give, but she had always been taught that it was wrong. Without having committed any sin, she was already being ridiculed, derided and publically humiliated. It wasn’t fair but all she could think was, how much worse it would be if there was any truth to it. At the moment she could hold her head high and walk tall, but what would she do if she knew they were right? How did you chastise someone for telling the truth?
His parting words kept running through her head as well.
‘If that’s what you think this is, then you are an even bigger fool than I had previously imagined.’
She refused to think about his meaning, unable to admit, even to herself, the possibility that she was falling in love with him.
Richard shook his head as he left the coffee house and headed to where his driver was waiting.
“Where to?” the driver asked as he held the carriage door open for his master.
“Custom House, please.”
There were too many docks in London to pick one randomly and hope that Mr Braithwaite had an office nearby, but Custom’s officers would know all the shipping agents in the city and be able to direct him.
He was still upset with Annabelle and her seeming wilful blindness about his feelings for her (and indeed her feelings for him) but no matter how angry he felt, he had no choice but to do what he must to keep her safe. Not so much because he had given her his word, but because he couldn’t live with himself if something happened to her when he could have prevented it.
He had seen the neighbour, who was so severely beaten that she almost died, and he had vowed then that it would never be Annabelle. Not if he could help it.
If she hated him for buying the lease on her property, so be it; he could live with her hatred, as long as she was protected.
He hadn’t told her this yet for fear of angering her but he had hired a detective to look into Frederick Wyatt’s background. Now he was considering asking the detective to follow Frederick, or even try to befriend him in the hopes of keeping Annabelle safe.
This threat to the lease had come out of nowhere and Richard was of little doubt that if now thwarted, Frederick wouldn’t simply give up.
If Frederick were followed though, it might be possible to learn who his link to these London criminals was. If it was this Old John who he was hiring to orchestrate these crimes, then perhaps he could be convinced to give Frederick up in exchange for leniency.
That was a lot of speculation but it was better than waiting around for the next threat.
In the meantime, he would ask the detective if he could recommend some men who could keep an eye on Annabelle. It would have to be at least three different men, so that Annabelle didn’t become suspicious when someone spent all day, every day in her coffee house and then followed her home.
Of course, Annabelle would probably be furious and accuse him of spying on her but really, this was all his fault. He had persuaded her to stand up to Frederick without truly understanding the type of man that he was dealing with. His detective had already unearthed a number of depraved incidents, although none the people he had spoken to were willing to press charges against Frederick.
So far Richard had discovered that Frederick was in debt to two London gambling houses. He was banned from all of the top London whorehouses for mistreating the girls and at one of the less salubrious ones he was then forced to frequent, he had beaten one girl so badly that her face was now disfigured. There were also many less serious reports of violence and smaller debts. It seemed that everyone in the London underworld had heard of, or had a story to tell about Frederick Wyatt.
Richard soon tracked Mr Braithwaite down to premises near St Katherine’s Dock and was welcomed into his office.
“What can I do for you, Your Grace?”
“I understand that you are considering selling the leasehold on Cockspur Street, is that correct?”
“Indeed. I was already considering buying a larger property. My wife has been nagging me for years to buy a house here and try to integrate with London Society. I have no interest in joining the upper classses, no offence, but I am simply a businessman who has done very well for himself and I have no delusions of grandeur. However, recent events have been the final straw and I finally gave in.”
“Have you given any thought to price?”
“Not yet. To be honest, I only made the final decision this morning.”
“Has anyone else shown an interest in buying your lease?”
“No. There hasn’t really been time.”
The fact that he didn’t ask how Richard had found out, probably meant that he had at least heard the rumours about Annabelle and Richard.
“No friends or acquaintances have mentioned an interest in the past?” Richard pressed.
Braithwaite’s brow creased. “Come to mention it, my wife did say something a few weeks ago, that if we ever decided to sell, she had a friend who might be interested.”
“Do you know who that friend is? Did she mention his name?”
“Probably, but I’m afraid that I block out half of what my wife says. I love her dearly but she is a very flighty creature and sometimes, blocking her chatter out is the only way I stay sane. Can I ask why this is important?”
“It may not be but Miss Wyatt is actually Lady Wyatt and I’m sorry to say, her brother has something of a grudge against her. I believe he may be trying to hurt her and one way to do that, is to buy the leasehold on her property and either raise the rent until she cannot afford it, or evict her.”
“Come to think of it, I do remember the name of my wife’s friend being familiar. I suppose I just didn’t put ‘Lord Wyatt’ together with ‘Miss Wyatt’. My wife has even met Miss Wyatt a few times since she opened the shop and never shown any interest in befriending her. I just didn’t consider that they could be related.”
“Have you ever met your wife’s friend?” Richard asked.
“No.”
“Then I would advise you to be careful if you ever do meet him.”
Braithwaite considered the man before him. He mixed with a lot of people in his business, including the upper classes and he had heard good things about Ri
chard Armstrong. His own instincts also told him that he was a good man, so he nodded. “I will.”
“Can I ask where your country home is?”
“Wiltshire.”
Richard supposed it was possible that Frederick was in Wiltshire, since it wasn’t very far from Dorset. He really would have to start having the man followed.
“I really am sorry to be selling the leasehold. I’m quite attached to that house and Miss Wyatt has been an exemplary tenant. Not to mention, how much I enjoyed having a coffee house and her delicious biscuits so close.”
“Then I hope that my proposal meets with your approval,” Richard began. “We will get an independent valuation and I will pay that, plus ten percent.”
“That’s very generous of you.”
“I’m used to getting what I want, Mr Braithwaite.”
“Except for Miss Wyatt,” he said, wondering what sort of reaction he would get from this man.
“You don’t believe the rumours then?”
“I don’t claim to be a good friend but I have known Miss Wyatt for six years and I believe myself to be a good judge of character. She’s not mistress material.”
“You’re right. Unfortunately, she also has an aversion to marriage.”
“I would say it was more of an aversion to trust than marriage.”
Richard nodded his agreement. “You are right, of course. And she won’t appreciate this gesture, she will see it as further evidence of my trying to buy her affections.”
“She won’t,” Braithwaite sat forward. “She fears that, yes but if you truly are a good man, deep down she will know it’s not true.”
Richard actually quite liked this man, even if he couldn’t quite believe him. “So, do we have a deal?”
Braithwaite stood up and offered his hand. “We do.”
They shook hands.
“When you and your wife are settled, Mother and I will invite you for dinner; see if we can’t introduce your wife to a few of London’s elite.”
“I would appreciate that. Thank you.”
Chapter Nine
Following her disastrous meeting with Richard, Annabelle didn’t see him again for almost another three weeks. She knew that she needed to apologise but she kept telling herself that this was better, that she couldn’t allow this man so much power over her life.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t make herself believe it.
She spent her nights lying awake, wondering if Frederick would buy the lease on her shop, and her day trying not to think about Richard and talking herself out of visiting him. She knew that Mr Braithwaite had found a buyer, a friend, he claimed, and he was moving out in less than a week but she hadn’t had the courage to ask the name of the man who had bought it yet. Sometimes ignorance was bliss.
A part of her felt like a fool for not accepting Richard’s offer to buy the lease, but the other part of her felt that she couldn’t keep giving him that kind of power over her.
She had decided that if Frederick had indeed bought the leasehold, she would turn the ground floor of her home into a gambling establishment. They were perfectly legal, very profitable and whilst the few women who did run such establishments had been ridiculed, she could live with being a social pariah, as long as her mother and her staff were safe. It had the added benefit that she owned her own home, so there was no way that Frederick could touch this new business.
She didn’t have much money to spruce the place up but she had one item of jewellery left to sell, her mother’s pearls, which had been handed down to her for her coming out. She had never even worn them but she kept them with her debutantes dress anyway. She wasn’t sure why she kept the pearls or the dress. She didn’t long for that life anymore but equally, there was a part of her that remembered those days of ease and the lack of responsibility with a certain amount of fondness. Although it didn’t always suit her, that life had been easy and whilst this life was rewarding, it definitely was not easy.
Her mother had been very eager for Annabelle’s coming out and they had designed the dress together, months before she could be presented at court. Her mother was already showing troubling signs of mental decline but she was herself most of the time. Annabelle hadn’t really understood what those early memory lapses and spells of confusion could mean for her mother and like many children, she didn’t think too deeply about it. In her mind, her mother had always been there and would always be there. Even if she had seriously considered the situation, she doubted that she could have envisioned her mother’s current predicament.
Because she had never worn the pearls, she didn’t really view them as hers and she had always been reluctant to sell them. She recognised that it was some infantile hope that her mother would one day recover and present her at court, as Evelina had once so longed to do and whilst Annabelle knew that was impossible, she couldn’t quite kill that dream.
But it was time to grow up now and if the pearls had to go, then they would.
With a plan for her future under her belt now, she felt free to go and see Richard, without feeling as if she was begging for charity at the King’s table.
It was the last Sunday in September and wearing one of her nicer gowns, she held her head high and walked straight up to the front door of his house in St. James Square. She didn’t have a card to present, but then Richard wouldn’t be bothered about such a social nicety going unobserved.
The butler informed her that Richard was out but that the Dowager Duchess was at home, so she waited in the hall whilst he asked Lavinia if she wanted to see their visitor. Thankfully she did, and came forward to greet her with a kiss on the cheek as Annabelle entered the sitting room.
“Annabelle, darling, how have you been?” she led her over to the seats.
“Very well, thank you, Lavinia. And you?”
“I got dreadfully bored in that large house all by myself. Most of my children came to visit after James died but they have their own families now and I don’t like to impose too much, so I decided to come and see what was happening in London for a while.”
“How many children do you have?”
“Six. Five girls and Richard. Unfortunately there seems to be some conspiracy among the girls to live as far away from me as is humanly possible.”
“Surely not.”
“One married a diplomat and is currently with him in Spain. One married a Scottish laird and lives in the middle of nowhere. One emigrated to America five years ago, although of all my girls, she writes the most frequently. My youngest daughter is currently out there visiting her and only the last one is in London. Her daughter comes of age next year and she wants to introduce her to Society gradually, so they are in London until November.”
“Have you been here long?”
“I arrived yesterday. I was going to come and visit you in your shop tomorrow.”
“If you aren’t tired of me, then you’re more than welcome to come and see me. I now make those raspberry crescent rolls for the coffee house, and I remember how much you liked them. ”
“In that case, I shall definitely be there.” She smiled. “I’m sorry Richard isn’t at home. Was there something important you needed him for?”
“Nothing that won’t wait. I just need to apologise. The last time we met, I said some very unkind things to him.”
Lavinia looked sympathetic. As much as she felt that Annabelle and her son were made for each other, they were their own worst enemies at times.
“Will you tell him that I called?”
“Of course. Now tell me how you have been, really? I know that this business with your brother can’t have been easy.”
“It led to a few sleepless nights, I confess but I have a plan now, so I feel much happier.”
“Can I ask what this plan is?”
“If you don’t mind, I would rather not say but it is not in any way illegal or immoral.”
Lavinia smiled. “You are a survivor.” She said. “That is a rare quality and one that I must admire, eve
n if your plan was illegal or immoral.”
They talked for a while longer but after two hours, Annabelle felt that she should be going. She had been hoping that Richard would return but clearly his errand was taking longer than she had hoped.
“Please tell your son that I shall call on him next Sunday.”
“I’m certain that he will come and see you before then, my dear.”
Annabelle didn’t look nearly so certain.
Once she had left, Lavinia moved to her sitting room to await Richard’s return. It took another two hours but finally he came back. Lavinia glared at him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, for he was rarely in his mother’s bad books.
“I had a visitor while you were out,” she explained. “Annabelle came to apologise to you.”
“I’ll stop by the shop tomorrow and see her,” he said, hoping to placate her.
“Make sure you wash that perfume off first.”
Richard sighed. “How did you know?” he asked, because he wasn’t close enough for her to smell anything on him.
“I turned a blind eye to your dalliances when you were young but I am not an idiot Richard. Nor is Annabelle. You are a fool to risk what you could have with her, for some woman you don’t love and who is already married.”
“I have nothing with Annabelle and likely, never will.”
“Nothing worth having comes easily Richard, because if it did, we wouldn’t value it.”
“Spare me the platitudes, Mother.”
“I will not! You’re making a mistake, Richard and if a woman like Annabelle ever discovers what you’re up to, you will lose her forever.”
In truth, Richard didn’t quite understand why he still saw Ada, because he spent the whole time he was with her wishing that she was Anna. But then of course if she was Anna, she would never have married a man who she didn’t love, who was old enough to be her father, just for his wealth and then proceed to have affairs to satisfy her needs.
That was one of the reasons that he loved Anna.
He was used to women flirting with him as he was something of a catch, and he wasn’t being conceited when he said that because he actually hated it. Most of those girls and women did their best to become what he wanted in a wife, rather than being themselves and it was hard to actually get to know them. Some weren’t after his money or title, he admitted but how did you get to know someone who was always putting their best foot forward, hiding their own needs in order to become their idea of the ideal woman?
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