The Rescue

by Lori Wick

  Anne finally walked away, her steps slow as she realized that selling something would bring embarrassment to her well-established husband.

  Mansfield, who had come upon her but not been seen, stood watching her move out of sight. His eyes went to the study door for a moment, his mind quickly making some deductions. A moment later he was not at all surprised to enter the study and find his employer buried in his books.

  Thornton Hall

  “What will you call her?” James asked of Marianne when the children visited her and the new baby for the first time.

  “This is Catherine Anne,” Marianne told them. “Do you like it?”

  Agreeing that they did, the boys smiled and even laughed a little at the wrinkly red person in Marianne’s arms, but Penny did not utter a word through this entire interchange. Jennings and Marianne exchanged several looks, but not until the boys went on their way did Jennings speak directly to Penny.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is something on your mind?”

  Penny looked up at him but didn’t answer.

  “You can tell me.”

  “Emma said sometimes babies die.” Tears had come to Penny’s eyes on this announcement.

  “What caused you to talk about that?”

  “I don’t know. It wasn’t today, but I remember her saying it.”

  Marianne offered the baby to Jennings so she could motion Penny to come close.

  “I want to hold you, Penny,” she said, needing this little girl so much at the moment.

  “Are you afraid that Catherine will die?” Penny asked.

  “No, but I hate it that you’re afraid, and I want to hold you.”

  Jennings put Catherine in a cradle across the room and joined Penny and his wife on the bed. “I need to tell you something, Penny,” he began. “Many people don’t believe that our God is a God of great purpose. They believe He haphazardly flings His power across the universe, but that’s not so. No matter how painful it would be to lose Catherine, God does not do things without a plan. We don’t always understand His reason, but we can trust that God knows what’s best for us.”

  “Papa died.”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “I miss him, but I have you and Marianne.”

  “That’s right. And you need to remember that even though we don’t know the exact reason why your father died, God has taken care of you, Thomas, and James.”

  “Can I pray that Catherine won’t die?”

  “What do you think?”

  Penny looked to Marianne, but she only smiled down at her. Penny looked back to Jennings.

  “I think yes, but I have to remember the part about God’s will.”

  Jennings reached for his youngest ward, feeling, as Marianne had, the need to hold her.

  “I love you, Penny.”

  “I love you too.”

  Penny had tipped her head back to look into his face. Jennings pressed a kiss to her soft, pale cheek.

  “I’m certainly going to be praying that our little Catherine is with us for a very long time. Do you know why?”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re going to be a wonderful big sister.”

  Penny’s sigh could be heard all over the room.

  The three of them sat and talked until Catherine needed some attention. By the time Penny went in search of her brothers, Catherine’s dying was the last thing on her mind.

  Brown Manor

  “Will there be anything else, sir?”

  Weston looked up in surprise, not recalling when Mansfield had ever disturbed him to ask such a thing. The faithful servant always delivered the tea, laid it out, and quietly went on his way.

  “No, I’m fine,” Weston answered, finding his voice.

  “Very well, sir. I understand Mrs Weston is going to be selling something?”

  Weston’s accounts melted from his mind.

  “What have you heard?”

  Mansfield described the brief scene some ten minutes past, his voice impersonal but his eyes not missing a thing. As he’d expected, Weston was very interested in this news.

  “Thank you, Mansfield.”

  That man only bowed before moving toward the door, but he was well satisfied. He was looking forward to telling Cook yet again that he’d been correct: This was going to be a fine match.

  “What will you shop for tomorrow?” Weston asked at dinner that evening.

  “I need some thread,” Anne told him, her mind still preoccupied with the whole matter, not to mention her own cowardice.

  “Anything else?”

  “No.” This time she answered thoughtlessly.

  “All the way to Collingbourne for thread?”

  Anne looked up from her plate, her facing growing pale before she blushed furiously.

  “How foolish of me,” she said, her voice becoming breathless. “Of course I won’t go. It’s only thread. I’ll wait for another time. I’m sorry to have been so thoughtless.”

  “Anne, I didn’t mean it that way,” Weston replied, his voice as patient as he felt.

  “Even so, you’re correct. Going all the way to town for thread is a waste.”

  Weston didn’t know how he was going to gain the information he sought without being completely honest.

  “I assure you, Anne, there was no rebuke intended. I just thought there might be something else on your list that you were reluctant to discuss with me.”

  Anne stared at him for a moment in misery before it all came spilling out.

  “I thought I could talk to you, but my pride has gotten in the way. You’ve never told me where I’m to retrieve my spending money, and my clothing is so awful—several things need mending—and I’m so terribly afraid of embarrassing you in London.” She sounded on the verge of tears and simply ended with, “I’m sorry.”

  “We’re shopping for clothes when we get to London, Anne—both you and I. That has been the plan all along, and because I’d not told you, it is I who should be apologizing to you. And as for the money, I’ll show you directly after dinner.”

  Anne bit her lip. She was not easily given to tears but did feel like crying. With a brief word of thanks, she bowed her head back over her plate.

  “Are you ever foolish, Anne?” Weston suddenly asked.

  Anne looked up at him. “I fear I am quite often.”

  “Well, I’ve been foolish enough to think that because we’ve discussed a few things, there will be no bumps in the path. That’s rubbish, of course. We’ve only just started on this marriage, and it takes years to know another person and grow comfortable with her or him.”

  The occupants of the room were quiet for a moment, but Anne had mentally agreed with Weston and knew she must voice it.

  “You didn’t sound foolish at all just now.”

  Weston’s mouth quirked.

  “Well, stick around, Anne. I’m bound to fall short of the mark before long.”

  Anne smiled at him before going back to her meal.

  They didn’t have a lot of conversation as they finished, but Weston was good on his word. Directly after dinner, he took Anne to the study and showed her everything she needed to know.

  Anne had nearly torn the wardrobe apart. Her husband had told her that they would be shopping once they gained London, but she might not have her clothing right away. There was still the matter of getting to that city. Anne told herself if she had to remake and mend every dress, she would be presentable.

  It was early on Saturday morning, earlier than she should have been awake, but she was eager to have her list complete. Something told her that if her husband could see her dashing about and making lists, he would tell her she could return to town or send a servant anytime she wished, but he had already been so kind, and she never wished to take advantage.

  No, it was best to get everything on this one trip, come home, and get to work. Her goal was to be presentable, and she was not going to waste any time.

 
; Busy with this determination, Anne dragged a box toward herself, not seeing she had dislodged another. It hit the floor with a thud, stopping Anne in her tracks.

  You’re going to wake the entire household! she chided herself. Moving a bit more slowly so as not to make noise, she continued to rummage and look for anything that might help in her mission.

  The thumping noise disturbed Weston so that he woke slowly. He was turned on the side that allowed him a view of the door that led to his wife’s room. It wasn’t at all unusual to think of her when he first woke, but today he remembered she was headed to town. The reason he married her came flooding back. There was no bitterness, no regret, only a deep concern not to see her hurt any more.

  And can you be certain her heart won’t be bruised if she heads to town without you?

  It was a question that didn’t take a moment to answer. Seeing that it was still early, Weston didn’t rush, but he did have a plan. When his wife left for Collingbourne, he would be with her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Good morning,” Weston greeted Anne when he got to the dining room table a few hours later.

  “Good morning,” she greeted him back, but Weston could tell she was distracted.

  “What time are we leaving for town?”

  Anne blinked but recovered and asked, “Are you going also, Mr Weston?”

  “I thought I might.”

  “Oh, well—” This stopped Anne a bit. “What time is good for you?”

  “I’m perfectly happy to follow your agenda. Whenever you wish to leave will suit me.”

  Anne nodded but didn’t answer. She didn’t know why this made her uncomfortable, unless… Her thoughts trailed off and her face grew red at the thought of her husband witnessing her treatment in town. She was married to a gentleman now, and that was supposed to bring respectability, but it was hard to think of how it had been and not dread repeating the ordeal. Would her marriage really alter her status in Collingbourne?

  “Are you all right?” Weston asked, his eyes on her.

  “Yes. I did want to offer, however,” Anne replied, swiftly improvising, “to add anything to my list that you might need. I might be able to save you a trip.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate that, but I’m not going to shop. I’m going to make certain my wife is treated with kindness.”

  Anne searched his eyes before asking, “Are you serious?”

  “Quite.”

  Anne’s mouth opened a little. She was so stunned she had run out of words.

  Mansfield came in just then. A housemaid trailed him to check on the toast rack and teapot. The manservant had some mail for Weston, a normal routine, but this morning he also handed a letter to Anne. She felt rather relieved.

  Weston looked at his own post for a time, but he wasn’t ready to let Anne off the hook just yet. His breakfast complete and his full teacup close at hand, he sat back and looked at her again.

  “Was there a reason you didn’t want me to go?”

  Anne looked up, knowing she could pretend not to understand but not wanting to live under that kind of deceit.

  “There is a reason, but I don’t know if it’s based on my pride or my desire to protect you.”

  “Protect me from what?”

  “The townsfolk. Not all of them have been very kind. The marriage is supposed to repair that, but if it doesn’t, I don’t want to subject you to them.”

  Weston’s head tilted to one side before he said, “It’s been a while since someone tried to protect me. That’s very kind of you, Anne, but you mustn’t worry about me. I will be fine. I am accustomed to respect here in Collingbourne, and I don’t expect that to change. You, on the other hand, are a different story. We will not frequent establishments whose owners do not know how to be kind to you. There is no reason why we should. I could ask you to report to me who has been unjust, but I’m willing to give the proprietors a second chance. If I go with you, I’ll be able to assess the situation and discuss it with you.”

  Anne never dreamed he’d given it that much thought. She was still rather speechless when she realized her food was growing cold and so was her tea. Almost at the same time she knew she was no longer hungry.

  “I believe I will freshen up a bit.”

  “All right. Do you want to give me a time when we’re leaving?”

  Anne thought about it. “Thirty minutes?”

  “Fine. I’ll order the coach.”

  “Thank you.”

  Wishing she had a nice dress for her first trip to town as Mrs Weston, Anne exited to her room to do her best.

  “Did I see Mansfield hand you a letter at breakfast?” Weston asked when they were settled in the carriage and on the way to town.

  “Yes, he did.”

  “From anyone I know?”

  “I don’t believe so. It was from Lucy Digby, wishing me well on my marriage.”

  “Digby,” Weston tested the name. “I don’t believe I know them.”

  “Lucy was a Benwick. Billy Digby used to come and do small jobs for Benwick. The two fell in love. It might not have been Benwick’s first choice for his daughter, and he probably lost business over it, but she’s happy.”

  “And the two of you are friends?”

  Anne glanced at his face to see what he was thinking, but he looked interested, not condemning.

  “We had been friends all along, but we became closer friends once my situation changed. Prior to that, Lucy was protective of me because of my position.”

  “But then she relaxed with you,” Weston guessed.

  “Yes,” Anne answered as she realized things had altered again. “She had a baby earlier this summer, and I went to help her.” She stopped just short of admitting all her thoughts.

  “So she and Billy are parents.”

  “Twice. Meg is two and Liz is the baby.”

  “Shall we stop and see them today, or will that make someone uncomfortable?”

  Anne angled her whole body to see her husband better. Weston watched her, waiting to find out what he’d said to garner this reaction. He was not to find out—at least not without some work. Anne turned back to the front, her eyes forward.

  “Anne?”

  “Yes?”

  “What happened just now?”

  “Nothing.”

  Weston smiled at her profile. She was really quite lovely, and he was learning that when she didn’t wish to speak of something, her cheeks grew pink.

  With a gentle hand he cupped her far cheek and brought her eyes to his.

  “What did I say?”

  “I don’t know what to do with you!” she blurted, her eyes large and confused.

  “What did I say?”

  “You’re willing to visit Lucy. I didn’t expect that.”

  Weston studied her eyes a moment. His hand had dropped away, but Anne was still looking at him.

  “To a certain extent we have to be careful, Anne, but there’s no reason to shun those who have shown kindness—especially to you—regardless of their station. If you normally visit Lucy when you’re in Collingbourne, my presence shouldn’t alter that.”

  Anne nodded.

  “So what do you think? Shall we visit Lucy or not?”

  “I don’t know. Unless she’s expecting me, I usually just see how my time goes.”

  Weston studied her some more.

  “You’re looking worried, and there’s no need.”

  “No, I guess there isn’t, but for some reason I am.”

  “Well, don’t be on my account. I’m just along to keep track of you. Nothing more.”

  Anne didn’t know if this was a comfort or not. She was confused about several things and wasn’t certain how to respond. However, Weston let the matter drop, and in a short time they were in town.

  “Are we starting at Benwick’s?”

  “Yes. I think most of my list can be covered there.”

  “All right, but don’t hesitate to change stores or leave something for next time. If I
said anything this morning that makes you think I disapprove of how you shop, I’m sorry. Proceed as you wish.”

  Anne looked at him and nodded, still trying to take it in. She might have attempted to express her feelings, but the coach was stopping.

  Once inside, Anne began with stationery. She needed to get thank-you letters off for the gifts that had arrived and continued to arrive. It was a lovely confirmation to have friends supporting them, but often her marriage still felt unreal and amazing to Anne. She hoped that if she put her thoughts down on paper in the form of a thank-you note, the union would begin to seem more genuine.

  For the moment, however, she forced herself to push all such thoughts from her head and concentrate on her list. After stationery she went directly to fabrics and sewing needs, determined to set her wardrobe to rights. She was very successful. Benwick had every color of thread she needed. But not until she was done did she realize she hadn’t seen her husband in some time. She began a tour of the store and spotted him in the section where Benwick kept larger items: rugs, furniture, and such.

  “Did you find something?” Anne asked after she’d approached and stood next to him.

  “Yes,” he answered, his eyes still on a large mirror that leaned against the wall. “Do you like this mirror?”

  Anne followed his gaze.

  “It’s lovely.”

  “Good. I want it for your bedroom.”

  “My room? You just put a rug in there.”

  “Oh, that’s right. What was I thinking? You’ve had your quota of furnishings for the month.”

  Anne put a hand to her mouth to keep from laughing, no easy task with Weston’s mischievous eyes now looking down on her.

  “I only meant,” she began, but halted, wanting to laugh at his innocent expression.

  “You only meant what?”

  “My room is fine,” she said at last, not able to come up with any other retort.

  “Your room is very bare, and we’re going to rectify that. Now, if you don’t care for the mirror, you must say so, but if you like it, it would do quite well on the wall across from your bed.”