by Candace Camp
The moon was full, casting a soft romantic glow over the evening scene. The trees arched over them as they went down the driveway, so that the moon and stars flickered through the branches, and a gentle breeze stirred the leaves, caressing Anna’s cheeks.
She looked across the small carriage at Reed. Though they were quite close, his face was only partially visible in the dim light, his eyes dark and unknown, the ridges of his cheekbones highlighted. She could not help but think what a sweet, romantic ride it would have been if he had been sitting beside her…if she had not refused him…if life had turned out differently….
Anna gave herself a mental shake and said brightly, “This is a beautiful carriage.”
“It’s Kyria’s. Rafe gave it to her when they returned to England a few weeks ago. Beautiful and a little impractical—very much like Kyria.” A smile took the sting from his words.
“I can see that you are very fond of your sister.”
Reed nodded. “I am fond of all my family.” He paused. “I want to thank you for what you did for the twins today.”
“How could I not?”
His mouth quirked. “There are a number of women, I think, who would not have helped them carry a wounded dog to a healer. Of course, they really had no business being on your property.”
Anna shrugged. “That is no problem. Kit and I are happy for them to explore.” She frowned, then added quickly, “Of course, they probably should not go farther into the woods—up Craydon Tor, you know. I fear they could easily get lost.”
“They generally take their compass. I imagine they could have found their way back today if you had not come along. But I will speak to them about Craydon Tor—though I fear that, with those two, any word of warning seems to make them only more eager to do something.”
“Typical boys, I think.” Anna smiled. “Kit was always most eager to do whatever had been forbidden. But I do hope you will impress on them not to go alone into those woods. They could fall or—well, there must be some sort of animal, perhaps a wild dog, that inflicted that damage on the dog they found. I have no idea what it was, but the dog’s wounds were severe. I do not like to think of Con and Alex coming upon that fierce a creature.” She brightened. “If they will but come to the Manor, I will send our gamekeeper, Rankin, out with them to explore the woods. He is a very good sort. They will enjoy their outing with him, I assure you.”
“That is very kind. Was the dog as badly injured as the boys said?”
Anna nodded. “Yes. Nick Perkins is a wonderful healer, but I hope Con and Alex will not count too much on his curing the animal.”
Reed studied her for a moment. “You truly liked them, didn’t you? Alex and Con.”
“Why, of course.” Anna cast a startled look at him. “How could I not? They are delightful boys.”
“There are many who do not find them so,” Reed commented wryly.
Anna wrinkled her nose. “Then they must be very stodgy sorts.”
Reed chuckled. “They are, many of them. However, it does seem as though wherever the twins go, things just seem to…happen.”
“Things?”
“Oh, frogs in a tutor’s bed, for instance, or an escaped parrot…or boa constrictor…or rabbit. Then there was the fire in the nursery—that was when they were pretending to be frontiersmen in America, I believe, and using a tinderbox. Or the time they went down an abandoned well after a kitten. Or—”
Anna chuckled, raising a hand in a stopping gesture. “All right, I believe you.”
They smiled at each other across the short space separating them, and suddenly Anna was struck with a shaft of longing—not physical desire, but a yearning for the closeness they had once shared, however briefly, a mental and emotional intimacy, the spark of fun and humor and excitement that had underlain the more urgent physical desire. They had liked each other, had simply enjoyed each other’s company, and Anna realized with a pang how much she had missed that closeness. She wanted to ask him if they could continue like this, if there was any chance that they could be friends after what had happened, but even as the thought was born in her head, she dismissed it.
It was foolish to even think of it, she knew. After what had happened between them, they surely could not be friends. If she had handled things differently from the beginning, perhaps. Or if she had known…But, she had not, and it had happened as it had happened, and she could really hope for nothing except to keep a certain polite distance between them.
Anna dropped her eyes to her lap, and a sudden, awkward silence fell upon them.
“Anna,” he said urgently, leaning forward, closing the short space between them.
Anna looked up at him warily. He was much too close, and it was suddenly difficult for her to breathe.
“What happened to us three years ago?” he asked, his voice a harsh whisper. “Was I so wrong in what I thought? Did you never feel for me what I believed you did?”
“Please…” Anna whispered back, her voice choked. “No, do not ask….”
“I loved you, and I thought you loved me. Was I so blind? So wrapped in conceit that I could not see what was right before my eyes?”
“I beg of you, do not press me.” Anna’s eyes glittered with tears, and she looked away from him, certain that if she continued to look into his face, she would start to cry. “Why did you come back? Why did you insist on riding with me tonight? Can you not leave well enough alone?”
“Because it isn’t well enough,” he grated back. “It was never so for me.” He reached out, wrapping his hand around her wrist, and Anna looked at him, her eyes wide and frightened, her heart pounding. “When you sent me away before, I was too hurt to question it. Too heartsore to do anything but crawl back to London and lick my wounds. But now…I return and find that you are still here, unmarried. A beautiful young woman, in the prime of your life, and no other man has captured your heart. Why is that?”
“I choose not to marry,” Anna said, drawing herself up with dignity and pulling her arm out of his grasp. For an instant he retained his grip; then he let her go and sat back. “A woman does not have to marry, does she? I enjoy my life as it is.”
“Your brother will marry someday. It is the way of things. And you will no longer be the mistress of Holcomb Manor. It is not a position many women would like. Most women would choose to have their own home, a husband and children….”
“Clearly I am not most women,” Anna said lightly. “I hardly think I need to explain myself to you.”
“No, I suppose you do not. Yet I cannot help but wonder, if you did not love me, that you have found no one else.”
“Must one love a man?” Anna retorted. “There must be women who do not. And, may I remind you, if it is so strange that I have not married, then it is equally strange that you have not.”
“Ah, but I was the one whose heart was broken. It takes time to be able to once again place one’s heart in the hands of a woman. You, on the other hand, were heart-whole.”
There was a flash of pain in Anna’s eyes, quickly covered by her glance away, out into the dark night. “Perhaps I am heart-whole because I do not have it within me to love. Surely you must have thought of that.”
“Yes, I have thought of it,” he agreed. “There was many a night when I was convinced of that very idea. But looking at you today with Con and Alex, I found it harder to believe. The warmth and compassion that was so evident in you…the kindness and gentleness. I cannot believe that you do not want children.”
“Of course I want children!” Anna flashed back, her eyes snapping. She stopped, drawing a deep breath and pushing down the tumult of emotions that bubbled up in her at his words, thinking quickly of how to cover her slip. She went on in a calmer voice. “That does not mean that I will marry just to have them, any more than I would marry to have money or position.”
“And that, I take it, is a slap in the face to me,” Reed said, settling back into the cushioned seat behind him. “Money and position being the only
reasons you would have had for marrying me.”
“I do not know why you insist on pursuing this,” Anna went on in a stifled voice. She hated the coldness that had come over his face and voice. “I never wanted to cause you pain. I still do not. Please, can you not just let it be?”
“I guess I am as stubborn and contrary-minded as my brothers,” Reed replied dryly. “I am told it is a Moreland trait.”
Anna knotted her hands in her lap, looking down at them. “I could not marry you,” she flatly. “I did not have the feeling for you that a wife should have for her husband.” She lifted her head to look straight into his eyes, keeping her own eyes steady and cool. “I have never regretted my decision, nor would I change it if I could.”
She swallowed, feeling faintly sick to her stomach.
“I see. Well, I suppose I could hardly ask for anything clearer than that.”
Anna looked away. To her relief, she saw the lights of Holcomb Manor in front of them. This unbearable trip would be over in just a few minutes.
Silence reigned in the carriage until it pulled to a stop in front of Holcomb Manor. Anna stood up and scrambled out before Reed could put out a hand to help her down.
“Thank you,” she said breathlessly, and hurried toward the front door without waiting to hear Reed’s response. She was grateful when the front door was opened wide, casting a rectangle of golden light into the night, and one of the footmen stepped out, bowing, to greet her.
Anna hurried up the steps into the house, and the footman closed the door behind her with a solid thud. She stood for a moment, waiting for the trembling in her limbs to stop.
“Miss Anna? Are you all right?”
She turned toward the footman. “Oh, yes, John. I am perfectly all right.” She forced a smile, then turned and hurried down the hall and up the stairs to the sanctuary of her bedroom.
* * *
Her maid Penny was waiting for her, and Anna was glad that she was there to help her out of her clothes and into her nightgown, for frankly, at the moment, she wanted nothing more than to crawl into her bed, pull the covers up and give way to a bout of tears. In her own state of distress, it took her a moment to realize that Penny’s face was splotchy and red, and her eyes were so puffy they were nearly swollen shut.
“Penny!” Anna took a second look at her. “What’s the matter?”
“Oh, miss!” Penny’s face crumpled, and she began to cry. “I’m so sorry! Please don’t let Mrs. Michaels turn me out!”
“Turn you out?” Anna repeated, dumbfounded. “What on earth are you talking about?”
“She said I should be turned out. She called me an ungrateful wretch, and said I had be-betrayed the family’s trust. And I never meant to, miss, I swear I didn’t. You know I love you. I would never do anything to hurt you or bring dishonor to the Holcombs.”
“Of course not,” Anna assured her, bewildered, and took the maid by the hand, leading her over to her easy chair. She sat down in the chair, pulling Penny down onto the hassock in front of it. Taking the girl’s hands in her own, she looked into her face. “Now. Calm down and tell me, step by step, what it is you are talking about.”
“I didn’t mean to do anything wrong,” Penny said, drawing a long, quavering breath. “I was only trying to not get Stell into trouble. That’s all. That’s why I didn’t say anything earlier.”
“Stell?”
“Estelle, miss. The upstairs maid. She sleeps in the same room with me, you see. She asked me not to tell, ’cause Mrs. Michaels’d turn her out without a reference, and that she would have, too, miss. And Estelle’s me friend. We have our little fusses now and then—who doesn’t, I ask you? But we help each other out, you see.”
“Of course. But why is Mrs. Michaels angry at you? What happened?”
“It’s Estelle, miss. She’s gone.”
“Gone? I don’t understand—she’s gone where?”
“I don’t know, miss.” Penny looked at her with rounded eyes. “That’s the thing—Estelle has disappeared.”
CHAPTER FIVE
For a long moment, Anna could only stare at Penny. “What? What do you mean, she’s disappeared?”
“Nobody knows where she is,” Penny said, and tears started in her eyes again. “She left the house last night, and she never came back.”
A shiver ran down Anna’s back, and she thought—she wasn’t sure why—of her feeling in the woods today, the cold, eerie stab of panic and pain. She shook the feeling off and forced herself to concentrate on Penny’s words.
“She told me she was goin’ out last night to see her fella, and I didn’t think anything about it. Sometimes she doesn’t come in until awful late when she does that.”
Anna remembered the morning only a week or so ago when she had seen Estelle sneaking in the back door and suspected that the girl had been out all night. “She has been doing that a lot recently?”
Penny nodded, looking remorseful. “She begged me not to tell anybody. She said Mrs. Michaels’d be that mad at her, and she was right. She was so happy, and it didn’t seem right that she should have to stop seein’ him just ’cause Mrs. Michaels wouldn’t like it. She was just—she was so happy! I felt glad for her, and so I promised not to tell anybody when she sneaked out and came in in the middle of the night. Then, this morning, she didn’t come back by the time we had to get up and go to work. It has happened before, so I figured she’d be in soon. She shouldn’t ’ave stayed out all night like that, but I couldn’t just turn her over to Mrs. Michaels.”
Anna nodded. She could understand the girl’s feelings. Mrs. Michaels was a formidable woman, especially when someone had broken one of her rules. “What did you do, then?”
“I didn’t do nothin’. Well, not till Mrs. Michaels asked me where Estelle was, and then I said she wasn’t feelin’ well and had stayed in bed. ’Cause I figured it was like the other morning, and she’d come sneaking in late, you see. But she didn’t. And later, Mrs. Michaels sent Rose up to see about her, and, ’course, when she wasn’t there, Rose told Mrs. Michaels she couldn’t find her. So Mrs. Michaels came back to me, breathin’ fire, she was, and I had to tell her.”
“Of course you did.”
Penny shot her a grateful look. “Thank you. I knew Estelle’d be furious with me, but what else could I do? She shouldn’t have stayed out all night like that, leavin’ me to explain it! So I told Mrs. Michaels that I lied about it, and that Estelle had gone out last night and never come back, and then she wanted to know how long she’d been doing it, and I had to tell her for a couple of weeks or more. And she was that mad. She said I was a traitor and an ingrate, and I don’t even know what that is! But I know I’m not a traitor. I’d never do anything to hurt you or Master Kit, and that’s the truth.”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t.”
“I didn’t think I was doing anything to hurt you by doing it, but Mrs. Michaels says it re-reflects badly on the Holcombs, having a maid that’s a slut. But she’s not a slut, miss! Or, I mean, she never was before. She’s always been a good girl.” She looked at Anna pleadingly. “You won’t let Mrs. Michaels turn me off, will you? My mum would slap me silly if I lost a position like this. And I never meant to do anything wrong. I wouldn’t damage your name for anything.”
“No, I am sure you would not,” Anna told the girl soothingly. “And doubtless the Holcomb name can stand up to more than a maid sneaking out to meet a man at night.” She hesitated, frowning, then said, “But why did Estelle not come back? Where did she go?”
“I don’t know, miss, and that’s the truth. Mrs. Michaels and Mr. Childers kept askin’ and askin’ me, but I truly don’t know any more. Mrs. Michaels says she’s run off, and I guess maybe she has.” Penny’s mouth drooped a little. “I never thought she’d just go off like that and not even tell me.”
Anna rose to her feet. “I’ll just go down and talk to Mrs. Michaels. She won’t turn you out. I am sure that after she has had a chance to think about it, she will see tha
t that is too harsh a punishment for what you did.”
“Oh, thank you, miss.” Penny grabbed Anna’s hand and squeezed it fervently, dropping a quick curtsey, as well.
Anna left her room and hurried down the narrow back stairway, the quickest way to the kitchen area. After walking past the already-dark kitchen, she knocked quietly on the door to Mrs. Michaels’ bedroom. The housekeeper opened it a moment later. She was obviously ready for bed, with her hair up in a ruffled sleeping cap and a cotton wrapper over her high-necked sleeping gown.
“Miss Holcomb!” The housekeeper looked startled, then frowned. “Did that silly girl bother you with her story?”
“Penny was rather upset. She is quite afraid that you will turn her out without a reference.”
“And so I should,” the housekeeper said sternly, the very bows on her nightcap quivering with remembered indignation. “Covering up for that doxy Estelle! In my day, we would never have dreamed of hiding such a thing from the housekeeper, I can tell you.”
“Yes, I am sure she was foolish,” Anna said quickly before Mrs. Michaels could warm to her story. “However, she is a very skilled personal maid, and I should not want to lose her.”
“Oh, no, miss, I would never presume to turn out your personal maid,” Mrs. Michaels told her, looking shocked.
“But I wanted to ask you about Estelle.”
“That pert baggage!” Mrs. Michaels made a face of disdain. “Looking back on it, I can see that we should never have hired her! Always giving herself airs…”
“I am rather worried about what might have happened to her,” Anna said, cutting into the other woman’s tirade.
“Happened to her! Why, nothing’s happened to her. I’m sure she just ran off with that man she’s been meeting. She was a sly one.”
“Well, but—doesn’t it seem rather sudden? Why didn’t she tell Penny if she was not planning to return?”
