‘Anne? But Anne was only a child when I left.’
‘That was six years ago, Edmund. Things change.’
‘Not things—it is only people who change,’ he said regretfully. ‘I beg your pardon, Anne, but you looked so like Julia standing there that I lost my head. I can see now that you are not she. Forgive me! I hadn’t meant … But the butler said Miss Wetherly not Miss Anne, so I naturally assumed it was Julia he spoke of.’
‘Obviously! But I am Miss Wetherly now, and have been so ever since Julia married.’
‘Married?’ he echoed dully.
The pain in his eyes at this blunt announcement hurt Anne. Illogically it made her lash out at him.
‘Yes, married! Did you imagine that Julia would remain single all this time? Are you so arrogant that you expected her to mew herself up like a nun when for six years we have supposed you dead?’
‘Of course not,’ he protested, but knew this was not entirely the truth. Although in countless nightmares he had watched Julia walk down the aisle to meet some shadowy stranger, in his waking hours some small part of his being stayed confident that she would wait for him.
Common sense had warned him that Julia would be exposed to more temptation than he was —there was little scope for unfaithfulness in his prison cell—but, poring over the miniature that smiled so warmly back, he had assured himself that she would remain true.
Even when he discovered that everyone believed him dead, a spark of optimism had lingered. It was hard to have it finally extinguished. Bleakly he went on, ‘Don’t let us quarrel, Anne. I am sorry I treated you so unmannerly. Please forgive me.’ He smiled briefly.
‘I am sure you will not hold one kiss against me! If I remember rightly you used to have some fondness for me once.’
Furious at the reminder, Anne hardened her heart. She might have been betrayed into foolishness once, but she would not be so weak again. Remembering Julia’s tale of their laughing together over her folly, she retorted icily, ‘You need not suppose I am so silly now.
That was when I was younger and less discriminating, more…’
‘Polite?’ he suggested as she searched for a word.
With a gasp of fury at the forthright comment that she secretly had to admit was justified, Anne exclaimed, ‘I did not have a very good example shown me in that respect, did I? Was it polite of you to liken me to a lovesick calf? You need have no fear that I will moon after you now in the manner that so embarrassed you then.’
‘Is that what rankles? You are putting the blame on the wrong shoulders. That phrase was Thomas’s, not mine. I valued your affection too much to mock it. But come, Anne, we cannot fall out over what happened six years ago. You say your sister is married. Whom did she…?’
Anne’s heart sank as he broke off and she saw realisation dawn in his face. ‘Of course, it is Julia who is Thomas’s widow. It is she I have come to see on this unhappy errand.’
Anne nodded unable to speak. Wryly she reflected that fury had led her to do all that Julia had wished. Without stopping to consider, she had given the impression that it was Edmund’s death that had caused her sister’s lack of faith. How long would it be before he learned the truth?
‘My God! What a coil!’ groaned Edmund. ‘I came here expecting to deal with some middle-aged stranger. That seemed a harrowing enough prospect, but this is far worse. How can I face Julia? I knew that Thomas was always jealous of my good fortune, but Julia! How could she have married him—and so soon after I was captured? The lawyers told me the child is no longer a baby. How old is he?’
‘Four,’ Anne admitted. ‘He will be five this year.’ She coloured as she saw him realise the implications of that. Now that the truth was out she wished that she had been less bitter.
‘So she was married even sooner than I supposed. I could barely have been reported missing then. And to Thomas of all people!’
Even then Anne could not bring herself to tell him the whole truth. How long it would be before he discovered it, she could not tell, but she would not be the one to shatter his last illusions. It would be too unkind.
‘After all her promises I would have thought she might have waited a little longer,’
Edmund murmured brokenly, then with an effort checked himself. ‘Yet who am I to guess how shock will affect other people? Julia was never strong enough to live alone.’
Again his words pricked at Anne’s conscience. Was she wrong to let him go on in this mistaken belief? Unaware of her silence Edmund went on: ‘And how will she bear this new shock? Perhaps after all it is a blessing that I met you first, Anne. You must break the news to her.’
Despite all her objections Anne found herself weakly agreeing, unable to withstand the appeal in his eyes. She knew it was foolish to go on deceiving him, but now she had gone this far there seemed no way of extricating herself from the tangle of half-truths. She must go on with the charade.
Perhaps fortunately, her sister saved her from this new problem. Exquisite in her most becoming black silk gown—which she had certainly not been wearing earlier on—Julia hurried in looking fragile and lovely.
‘What is this Stone tells me of one of Thomas’s relations enquiring for me, Anne?’ she exclaimed anxiously, then stopped abruptly as he swung to face her, breathed, ‘ Edmund!’ in a husky whisper, swayed and fell gracefully towards him, clutching at his arms.
Even Anne would have thought the swoon natural had she not noted the adroit manner in which Julia contrived to twist herself round as she fell so that the light shone safely over one shoulder, not directly on to her face.
Edmund was completely taken in. Clutching Julia’s limp form in his arms, he looked helplessly at Anne. She was sorely tempted to leave him to cope alone, but his distress touched her unwillingly. As, yet again, his eyes implored her assistance over Julia’s drooping head, she indicated the sofa. ‘Put her down there, Edmund.’
While he endeavoured to lower her gently Anne glanced round. A jug of water standing on a side table suggested an excellent chance of revenge. She handed it to Edmund, advising him blandly, ‘I think if you pour some of this over her it should revive her.’
That would teach Julia to play her silly tricks! Edmund was uncertain. ‘I don’t think I ought…’
‘Nonsense,’ Anne declared briskly, considering it just what Julia deserved. ‘It is the ideal treatment for the vapours. Move away, if you won’t do it, and let me!’
As she anticipated, her sister’s eyes fluttered open before she could carry out her threat.
‘Edmund, is it truly you?’ Julia faltered.
‘Of course it is. Forgive me for not warning you, Julia. I had not realised that you were the Lady Ashorne I had come to meet, or I would have taken more pains to prepare you for the shock. I had expected to see a stranger.’
The ardour with which he had mistakenly greeted Anne earlier was gone. His voice was expressionless now, his face unreadable. Anne watched uncomfortably. Poor Julia! Pray heaven she never learned of the error Edmund has made; she would never forgive her sister.
If it had been Julia clasped in his arms a few minutes ago, everything might have turned out as she intended. Julia would have known how to turn his weakness to her advantage.
But there was no hope of a return to that mood at present. Shock had driven all thought of romance from Edmund’s head. Now the knowledge of Julia’s marriage and all its implications lay between them.
Anne could not determine whether she was glad or sorry at the turn events had taken. She was truly unhappy to see Edmund so bewildered, yet at the same time could not deny a secret satisfaction that this time Julia’s wiles had not succeeded, that for once she had been unable to make a suitor dance to her tune.
Anne’s own feelings were still chaotic. That kiss had stirred her more than she liked, rousing longings she knew could never be fulfilled. Julia would make sure of that. From the sofa Julia frowned at her and jerked her head meaningfully at the door. Anne heartily wished that Edm
und had not come back to confuse her so cruelly. She was about to make an excuse and leave him alone with Julia, as her sister clearly wished, when Kit burst into the room.
‘Mamma! Did you fetch the toy soldiers as you promised? I need them for…’ He broke off as he saw the tall stranger beside the sofa. ‘Who is that, Anne, and what is the matter with Mamma this time?’
‘Hush, love, she has had a shock. A pleasant one but still upsetting.’ Anne tried to explain simply. ‘This gentleman is Lord Ashorne—your papa’s cousin. We thought that he had died in the Peninsular war, but we were wrong.’
Kit considered this information for a moment then pounced on the salient point.
‘How can he be Lord Ashorne, when Mamma said I was after Papa died.’
‘I am afraid that we were all mistaken. It is difficult to explain, but…’
‘You mean that I am not a lord any more?’
‘I’m afraid not, love.’
‘Good!’
Anne was too startled by the satisfaction in his voice to comment but Julia sat up furiously, demanding, ‘Whatever do you mean, Kit? Don’t you want to be Lord Ashorne?’
‘Of course not! I don’t want to have my head chopped off!’
‘Whatever is the wretched child talking about?’ exclaimed his mother fretfully.
‘When the Revolution comes here like in France, they’ll cut off all the lords’ heads,’
explained Kit. ‘I didn’t think it was fair. Alter all I never asked to be a lord, but now it’ll be his head, not mine.’
‘I don’t think either of you needs to worry, love.’ Anne’s amused glance met Edmund’s over the child’s head. ‘I fear that some of Kit’s stable friends are a trifle radical in their sympathies.’
‘It wasn’t the stable boys who told me that,’ Kit objected indignantly. ‘It was Weston.’
‘The steward,’ said Anne in reply to Edmund’s unspoken query.
‘Then he should know better. He had no right to frighten the child with such tales. Shall I dismiss him?’
‘No!’ exclaimed Julia sharply. ‘It was a joke. Nothing more!’
Her voice was shrill with panic, and uneasily Anne remembered the conversation she had overheard. Weakly she had put it out of her mind to concentrate on the preparations for Edmund’s homecoming. Now she wondered whether she ought to have investigated further— tried to discover what hold Weston had over her sister. She was beginning to suspect it was stronger than she had supposed.
Misunderstanding Julia’s distress, Edmund flushed with embarrassment.
‘I beg your pardon,’ he apologised in stilted tones. ‘I had not meant to remind you of your awkward position in that unmannerly way, Julia. Please forget what I said. I will leave you now and return when you have had time to recover from the shock of my reappearance.’
‘But you cannot mean to go already,’ exclaimed Julia. ‘Not when I am just growing accustomed to the idea you are alive again. Tell him he must stay, Anne!’
‘Indeed he must. After all, this is his house, not ours.’
‘But I cannot thrust myself upon you in this way. I fully intended to put up at the inn till everything could be settled. I will go there now.’
‘That will not be necessary,’ Anne told him. ‘We have a room ready prepared.’
‘For Anne’s fiancé,’ Julia put in quickly. ‘He was due to arrive some time ago, but he has been delayed by the bad weather.’
‘Or the good company in town,’ said Anne with a smile.
‘But won’t he be annoyed to find me taking his place when he gets here?’ protested Edmund.
‘Of course not. You have a far better right to any room here than James. This is your home.
If anyone moves out it should be us. I’m sure Julia agrees with me.’
‘Naturally I expect you to stay here as long as you need,’ Edmund told them awkwardly.
‘Always so generous!’ murmured Julia. She frowned warningly at her sister as Anne declared,
‘We will not need to trespass on your hospitality for very long. In a few weeks Melthorpe Hall will be fit for us to move into. It is being made ready now.’
She had forgotten Edmund’s quick brain, his ability to draw accurate conclusions from the slenderest clues. Apprehensively she met his suspicious glare as he demanded, ‘How is it that you are so well prepared? Did you know that I was coming, after all?’
CHAPTER
THREE
ANNE could only stare hack speechlessly, horribly conscious of the piercing scrutiny that seemed to bore straight through to her brain. Six years dwelling on Edmund’s virtues had allowed her to forget the less comfortable aspects of his make-up—of which this disquieting ability to ignore the details, and pounce on the underlying truth which one least wished him to see, was the most disconcerting. It had effectively demolished many an attempt at evasion in the past.
How should she reply? She could not lie to him; nor could she tell the truth and show up her sister’s foolish sham. Julia would never forgive such treachery, and Anne feared she had already unwittingly done enough harm to her sister’s cause. Why had she let Julia thrust her into such a position?
From the sofa Julia glared at her, hastening to retrieve the situation herself. ‘Of course we did not know!’ Her conscience was less tender. ‘How could we learn of it when we have been snowed up here in this wilderness for a month or more?’
Edmund still looked far from satisfied, and Anne tried to pull her scattered wits together.
Hastily she contrived an explanation which was accurate if not the entire truth.
‘You startled me taking me up so fiercely, Edmund! I suppose that I thought of the Hall so readily because I have been busy there for some time now. Julia wanted to have it renovated so that it could be let, but I have been making all the arrangements on her behalf. We had not got as far as advertising for a tenant yet, so to move there ourselves seemed to me to be the ideal solution to this problem. I have often thought that Melthorpe Hall would be a more suitable home for the three of us than this great mansion, and now it seems events have made it a necessity. The repairs are going well and I think…’
‘It seemed wicked to allow such a lovely old place to go to rack and ruin!’ interrupted Julia, casting a look of burning reproach at her sister. ‘I felt that despite all the difficulties we must endeavour to make it habitable once more. Not that I dreamed I should be forced to return there myself. Living here we have grown accustomed to much more comfortable surroundings, and the Hall has been left derelict for so long…’ Her voice tailed off despairingly.
‘Naturally,’ Edmund hastened to reassure her, ‘I shall expect you to remain here until everything is made perfectly ready at Melthorpe Hall or wherever you decide to settle, however long it may take, I don’t mean you to suffer from this damnable muddle.’
Julia darted a look of triumph at her sister then, turning back to Edmund with a brave smile, risked a show of reluctance.
‘You are too generous, Edmund. We should not want to intrude on your privacy here.’
‘There is no question of intrusion. I shall be delighted to have your company—or if you prefer I will go back to London until…’
‘No!’ protested Julia sharply. ‘You must stay!’ Her voice softened again to a caressing murmur, ‘We will be more than happy to share your home with you if you are sure that we will not be a burden.’
‘How could you ever think that?’ One lingering glance took in her exquisite face, raised trustfully to his, then he turned briskly away. ‘Now that is all settled, if you will excuse me I must go and see that my horses are stabled. I told my man to have them ready to ride to the inn later, so must tell him our plans are altered.’
‘Shall I show you the way?’ offered Kit eagerly.
Edmund smiled down at him.
‘I think I know my way well enough even after six years’ absence, but you may come to introduce me to your friends in the stables if you wish. Some of them are
bound to have changed even if the buildings have not.’
Kit led him proudly away, chattering excitedly. Immediately they were out of earshot Julia rounded furiously on her sister.
‘What were you trying to do, Anne? Ruin my chances? I thought you’d really let the cat out of the bag with your cut and dried plans to move to Melthorpe. Then when Edmund grew suspicious you stand and gape at him like a ninny. Are you mad—or merely malicious?’
‘I’m sorry. I know we were expecting him, but when he turned up so suddenly I was disconcerted.’
‘So I noticed! What had been going on between you and Edmund before I got back?’
‘Nothing,’ lied Anne, but as she remembered that kiss and her instinctive response to it, her cheek burned with shame. Edmund had said nothing, but surely he was bound to have noticed her eager acceptance of his embrace. What must he have thought of her? She dare not let that momentary madness overtake her again.
‘There must have been something,’ Julia persisted. ‘I could feel the tension in the room when I came in!’ She eyed her sister’s heightened colour with suspicion. ‘You haven’t any foolish ideas of stealing Edmund from me, have you?’
‘Of course not!’
‘I hope that is true. I’ll brook no interference with my plans.’
‘And I intend none. I’ve told you before, that childish infatuation was over long ago.’
‘I suppose I must believe you. Not that I could credit that you’d be trying anything in that dreadful rigout! What have you been doing in it? Sweeping the chimneys?’
Anne looked down at the shabby gown, doubting whether Edmund had even noticed it.
‘Only turning out the linen-room. You cannot imagine what a muddle it was in! There were great piles of things years old and quite untouched. I’ve told Norwich to put some into use at once. There’s enough there to furnish ten houses, not two, but it still has to be sorted through to determine what is yours and what Edmund’s.’
‘You can forget all those silly details,’ Julia told her impatiently. ‘The question of division won’t arise. I’ve already told you that I intend to marry Edmund.’
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