by Lori Wick
Anne stared off for a moment and then met her husband’s gaze.
“That wall is rather bare, isn’t it?”
Weston smiled at her.
“What did I say?” Anne asked when she witnessed his look.
Weston didn’t answer. He gave her hand a quick squeeze and said he would speak to Benwick about the mirror.
“How does tea sound?” Weston offered when they were back in the carriage.
“It sounds wonderful,” Anne said before remembering.
“Gray’s?”
“All right.” Her voice had become quiet, but Weston didn’t notice.
“How much more shopping do you have?”
“Not much. In fact, if you’d rather have tea at Brown Manor, I can be done now.”
“No, I’m looking forward to Gray’s.” Weston looked at Anne the moment he said this and asked, “Unless you’d rather not.”
“No, it’s all right.”
Weston needed no other information. The strain in his wife’s face told the whole story. Nevertheless, he was not going to be put off by a few gossiping attendants in the tearoom. Anne was Mrs Weston now, and they would need to remember that.
They were seated at a comfortable table not ten minutes later, a solicitous young woman hovering nearby for their order. Anne was very tense, but Weston did the honors: tea, sandwiches, and cakes. The table was quiet while they waited, but almost as soon as the tea arrived, conversation began.
“We will see how this goes today, Anne. If you are not treated with respect, we will not return.”
“It seems all right so far.”
“Better than the last time for you?”
“Yes.”
Weston squeezed her hand and changed the subject.
“Do you think we’ll visit Lucy today?” Weston asked.
“I don’t know if today would be the best day.”
Weston knew he would feel better after tea, but before the sandwiches and cakes arrived he realized he was a bit tired.
“Would it bother you if we made it another time?”
“Not at all.”
“I find I’m a little tired just now, and that’s not the way I want to first meet your friends.”
Anne was on the verge of telling Weston how kind that was when she remembered that he had been nothing but kind from nearly the moment they’d met.
“I am looking forward to meeting your mother,” Anne said instead.
“Where did that come from?”
“I do want to meet the woman who raised you.”
Weston’s eyes twinkled.
“Maybe I developed my charm after I left my mother’s care.”
The waitress took that moment to come with their food, and Anne had to put her napkin to her mouth to keep from laughing.
“I think you might be incorrigible,” she teased when they were alone.
“I haven’t been called that since I was a child.”
“What had you done?”
“Answered back, probably. My tongue got me into the most trouble as a child.”
“What would your mother do?”
“My father would handle me most of the time.”
Anne looked surprised.
“I was under the impression he died when you were quite young.”
“I was 15, halfway to 16.”
“A young man. How painful for you.”
“It was. We were very tightly knit. My mother’s attempts to give me siblings all ended in heartache, so the three of us were rather close.”
“And what of today? Are you as close to your mother?”
“Yes, very. She even came to visit so she could see you.”
This news stopped Anne.
“I don’t remember meeting her.”
“You didn’t. I pointed you out from across the church.”
The relief on Anne’s face was unmistakable.
“Why is that a comfort?”
“I’m just glad she knows what I look like.”
“Why is that?”
Anne picked at her scone, wishing she’d kept silent. Weston touched her hand, his fingers light and gentle. Anne met his eyes.
“You can tell me.”
“I’m only glad to know that she’s seen me. When we meet, she won’t be expecting me to be fancy or beautiful.”
“I don’t care for fancy women, and who told you you’re not beautiful?”
Anne could only stare at him. At last she admitted, “I keep wanting to feel sorry for you, since you felt pressured to marry me, but it’s not working.”
Weston smiled into her eyes.
“No one forced me to do anything.”
Anne couldn’t take her eyes from his, and Weston didn’t try. The two sat staring at each other for several moments.
“Well, now.” A distinct voice came from behind them as footsteps approached their table. “I’d heard that this marriage was one of convenience, but you two seem quite taken with one another.”
His eyes sending a message to Anne, Weston forced a smile to his face, stood, and turned.
“Hello, Mrs Musgrove.”
“Mr Weston,” she intoned regally before turning her gaze to Anne, who had also come to her feet.
“Well, Anne,” she said grudgingly, “you’re looking well.”
“Thank you, Mrs Musgrove. Are you shopping today?”
“Yes, I’m going to Bath this winter and need a new wardrobe. Will you be in Bath this winter, Mr Weston?”
“Mrs Weston and I have no firm plans at this time.”
His vague answer and reserved tone finally got through to the older woman. She had been looking Anne over as though she were a piece of meat and now met Weston’s solemn gaze.
Opinionated as ever, Mrs Musgrove declared, “Well, you don’t know what you’ll be missing!” This said, she turned and went on her way.
The Westons bid her good day, but she didn’t turn or acknowledge them. It was with a certain amount of relief that they took their seats and went back to tea.
“Has she always been like that?”
“I’m afraid so. She owns the largest estate in the area and feels we ought to pay her a certain amount of homage.”
“No family?”
“Only a daughter, and she doesn’t get out much.”
“Will her daughter accompany her to Bath, do you think?”
“I imagine. She rather does anything she’s told.”
Weston’s look became thoughtful as he reached for his tea. Anne thought she saw compassion in his gaze and found herself thankful for his tender heart.
They finished their tea in a leisurely manner—everyone at Gray’s making them most welcome—and with Weston’s urging, Anne made two more stops. By the time they arrived back at Brown Manor, Anne was a little short on time to sew, but by bedtime she had repaired a dress for Sunday morning that she hadn’t been able to wear in months.
“I have a sister,” Penny said very softly to Anne when the service was over the next morning. “Her name is Catherine Anne.”
“I think that’s wonderful. Have you held her?”
Penny nodded. “She only cried a little.”
“You must have been very gentle.”
Penny looked shy and pleased all at the same time.
“Do you know what arrived for Mr Weston and me this week?” Anne asked.
Penny glanced at Weston who sat on the other side of Anne. He smiled at her before she looked back at the lady herself.
“Was it a gift?”
“Yes, and the note said you picked it out for us.”
“It was a bowl,” Penny told her unnecessarily, relieved she could finally speak of it.
“A beautiful compote.”
“Yes,” Weston agreed with his wife. “You’ll have to come and visit us at Brown Manor, Penny, sometime after we return from London, so we can put it to use.”
“You’re going to London?”
“Yes, we are.”
“Wh
en?”
Anne looked to her spouse, realizing she didn’t know that answer.
“Monday, next week.”
“What will you do?” the little girl asked.
“We’ll visit with Mr Weston’s mother and do a bit of shopping. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
Penny was still agreeing with Anne when Jennings approached. Both Anne and Weston came to their feet.
“Congratulations!” Weston offered as the men shook hands.
“Thank you.”
“How is Mari?” Anne wished to know.
“She’s very well.”
“Up to visitors?”
“Absolutely. Come soon.”
“They’re going to London,” Penny put in when Jennings glanced down at her.
“That sounds nice. Are you going with them?”
Penny looked shocked.
“I can’t leave when Marianne needs help with baby Catherine!”
The adults were still laughing at her when the boys joined them.
“How is life with a baby in the house?” Anne posed the question with a smile.
“It’s fine,” Thomas said in his kind way.
“A bit noisier,” James added in his usual honest, matter-of-fact way.
The group visited a little longer, hearing some of the details and more impressions from the children. When they said their goodbyes and went in separate directions, Anne noticed that Weston was a bit quiet. She didn’t question him, but if she’d been bold enough, his answer might have surprised her.
Robert Weston was still thinking on Catherine Jennings. And not just Catherine, but babies in general.
Chapter Fifteen
Anne woke slowly—her neck stiff—with no idea where she might be. She put her hand out to push off her pillow and encountered soft fabric over a firm surface. Finding it too difficult to raise her head, she simply tilted it backward and found her husband’s face very close, his eyes looking into hers, as he sat on the carriage seat beside her.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly when she realized she was lying against his chest.
“Don’t be. I slept as well.”
His arm still supporting her, Anne felt too lethargic to move.
“I should move, but I find myself rather drained.”
“You probably need more sleep.”
“Possibly,” she agreed, even as she found the strength to sit up. “But my neck is a bit stiff.”
Weston didn’t answer. His side felt bereft of her presence, and he had the most irresistible urge to draw her back to him.
Trying to clear the webs from her mind, Anne only turned to look at Weston when he reached up and touched her cheek.
“My shirtfront left you with a few creases,” he said after a gentle caress.
“Oh.” Anne’s hand came up as she groaned. “I must be a mess. Are we close to London?”
“Very.”
Anne closed her eyes. “Your mother will take one look at me and wonder what you’ve gone and done.”
“My mother will take one look at you and ask where you’ve been all my life.”
Anne gave him a skeptical glance as she worked to smooth her hair. Weston unashamedly watched her.
“You’re staring, Mr Weston,” Anne said without looking at him. This was the second long day in the carriage, and both had become quite relaxed in one another’s company.
“Is that a problem?”
“It all depends on what you’re thinking.”
His thoughts had suddenly turned rather intimate, wondering if she always looked this good right after she woke up, but he didn’t think now was the time to voice his musings. He didn’t, however, avert his gaze. Anne gave him a direct look, but all he did was smile.
“I believe I’m seeing your incorrigible side again.”
“You might be.”
“Might?” Anne laughed before asking, “How are the creases on my face?”
“Fading quickly.”
“I can only hope you’re telling the truth.”
Weston put on the most innocent face he could muster, which made Anne laugh.
“Will we stay long?” Anne now asked, realizing she didn’t know.
“That depends. If we’re having a good time and not missing Collingbourne too much, we’ll probably stay two weeks. If we want to return before then, we shall do that.”
“Will your mother have plans for us?”
“Most likely not. She tries to keep her own schedule even when I visit, and we can accompany her whenever we like. We might go to dinner one evening, and of course we’ll go shopping.”
Anne’s eyes went immediately to her dress. She was in the midst of adjusting her sleeves and checking her neckline when Weston caught her hand. Anne watched as he held her eyes but lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back.
“You look lovely,” he said softly. “You always look lovely.”
Anne wanted to believe him but feared he was only being kind. Telling herself she was far too concerned with her looks, she simply thanked him and, when he released her hand, sat back for the remainder of the journey.
Berwick
“You’re looking strained again,” Louisa Cavendish said to Lenore Weston, who had wandered to the window yet again. A neighbor and dear friend of Lenore’s, Louisa missed very little.
“It’s only just occurred to me,” Lenore said, turning from the window.
“What has?”
“Robert had no real desire to marry, and now he’s taken a wife. I trust Robert’s judgment, but what if he’s made a horrible mistake? What if she’s all wrong for him? What if she’s a—” Lenore stopped, but her friend would not let her off so easily.
“Another Henrietta?”
Looking defeated, Lenore came and sat across from her friend.
“First of all,” Louisa began before Lenore could say a word, “we know Anne shares our faith, and with what Robert recently learned, we know Henrietta did not. Secondly—”
A knock on the door halted their conversation. Betsy, Lenore’s housekeeper, opened the door enough to announce, “The carriage has arrived, my lady.”
“Thank you, Betsy.”
The door shut, and Louisa stood and began to walk across the room.
“I’ll just slip out the back and see you later.”
“But you never finished what you were saying.”
Louisa stopped and looked at her friend. “I don’t need to. Robert and Anne will be here in a moment, and you’ll see for yourself that your son is exactly the man you and James raised him to be.”
She didn’t wait for Lenore to reply but went on her way, leaving the new mother-in-law on her own. Not a minute passed before the door opened and Robert ushered his bride into the large salon.
“Robert,” his mother said, smiling when she saw how well he looked. “And, Anne, I’m so glad you’re here.”
“It’s so nice to meet you, Mrs Weston.”
“Lenore,” she corrected warmly, even as she went directly to Anne and drew her in for an embrace. There was no missing the way the younger woman trembled.
“Oh, Anne, I was so nervous before you arrived that I asked my neighbor to come and sit with me. She only just left.”
Weston laughed even as Anne admitted her own case of nerves. The women ended up laughing with him.
“Come,” Lenore invited. “Betsy is bringing tea.”
The three settled onto comfortable sofas, Weston and Lenore with a sigh and Anne still with a measure of uncertainty.
“How was the trip?”
“Not as long as usual,” Weston said, his eyes on Anne. “It’s nice to have company.”
Anne smiled at him, and Lenore felt pleasure spiral through her as she witnessed their warmth and comfort with each other.
“And your father, Anne? How is he?”
“Well when I left him.”
“Will he be all right with you gone?”
“The Hursts will check on him, and he usually manages
very well on his own.”
“Has he visited you at Brown Manor?”
“I haven’t invited him,” Anne admitted. “He’s not overly fond of carriage rides, and Brown Manor is a long walk from Levens Crossing.”
“Anne, I want you to know that Robert has told me how things haven’t always been easy for you.”
Growing more relaxed by the moment, Anne didn’t try to stop her smile.
“Mr Weston is at times overly sensitive.”
Weston shouted with laughter over this, and although Lenore looked surprised, she laughed as well.
“Someone must tell me the joke I’ve missed.”
“I’m the joke,” Weston filled in. “Every time my poor wife refers to anything from her past, I begin snorting like a bull. She’s told me she’ll never survive unless I stop.”
Lenore looked as though she would comment on this, but the door opened and Betsy and two other maids entered with a splendid tea.
“I didn’t even let you freshen up,” Lenore apologized, “but I thought you must be utterly parched after all those hours in the coach.”
“Thank you, Mother. This is just right.”
“Where did you stay last night?”
Weston answered the question while Anne was busy with her tea, but in an instant she was back in time to the night before.
“Well, it seems we have a large room,” Weston told her as they climbed the stairs at the Newbury Inn, “but only one.”
“All right,” Anne said quietly, not wishing to show the alarm she felt. It had been a good day of travel together—they were growing more comfortable all the time—but sharing a room was a little more intimate than Anne bargained for.
“I’ll just take the settee,” Weston announced when they were upstairs, the door closed and their bags delivered.
“That makes no sense at all,” Anne replied, having to look up to say this to him. “I’ll be much more comfortable there.”
“I’m trying to take care of you, and you won’t let me.”
“I thank you for trying, but on this occasion, I assure you, the settee will be fine.”
Weston looked as though he could argue some more, but Anne smiled at him, and lately that had been his undoing.
They had already eaten, and both were tired and hoping for an early start, so they took turns behind the dressing screen as they readied for bed. By the time Anne emerged, Weston had used pillows and blankets to make the settee most comfortable. It wasn’t a wide piece of furniture, but Anne knew she would do fine.
