by Bree Wolf
“By all means, what is this about?”
Unable to shake the feeling that her words might end their friendship of many years, Anna swallowed. Then she raised her eyes and faced the inevitable. “I have decided to return to Brookestone.”
Henrietta’s eyes widened. “Brookestone? Why? Does your husband demand it?”
“No, he does not even know about it,” Anna admitted. “I need distance from him and…from you as well.” Fighting the urge to avert her eyes, Anna felt a slight stab at her friend’s shocked expression.
“From me?” she breathed, before her eyes narrowed once again. “What is going on? What has he done?”
Anna smiled, shaking her head. “Nothing, or at least nothing you might think. He just…he opened my eyes to something I seemed to have been blind to.”
“Blind to,” Henrietta echoed, confusion creasing her forehead. “What on earth are you talking about?”
Knowing that, at the very least, she owed her friend an explanation for her strange behaviour, Anna took a deep breath. “I don’t hate him,” she stated boldly, reading on Henrietta’s face that she did not need to specify who she was talking about. “I’m not sure I ever did. Yes, I was angry with him for his careless proposal, and a part of me still is, but…” Trailing off, she shook her head. “Everything else I’m not sure of.”
“Not sure of?” Henrietta echoed once again. Her brows drawn down, she eyed her visitor with suspicion. “After everything he did to you? How can you speak like this? He is the typical man, only thinking of himself, not caring in the least how others fare, especially women!” Her voice rising, Henrietta shook her head, her blond curls swaying from side to side in an agitated fashion. “Was it not merely a few weeks ago that you told me of his attack on you? Was it not you who wondered how it would look should you happen to kill him if he tried to do so again? Was that not you?”
Anna nodded, trying to remain calm at the sight of her friend’s temper. “It was. You’re right. But now I wonder what made me look at him this way. What made me think so very ill of him.”
“He did!” Henrietta exclaimed, a shrill note twisting her voice. “He used you to settle his debts!”
Again Anna felt a small stab in her heart. “I know. And I am not saying what he did was right. All I’m saying is that it might not have been enough of an error in judgement to condemn him completely, to warrant such a treatment of him on my part.”
“Error in judgement?” Henrietta shook her head. “My dear friend, what has he done to cloud your mind so? What he did is proof of a malevolent character. Placing your own needs before those of others speaks to a lack of morals and cannot be excused, under no circumstances. No matter how kind he might seem on the surface.” Henrietta’s eyes narrowed, and Anna felt their scrutinising gaze slide over her like a cold shiver. “He has been treating you kindly, has he not? Teaching you how to fence? Appearing to support you in your desire to remain your own person?”
Anna nodded. “Yes, he has. And yes, I watched him like a hawk, always wondering why he did so. Always questioning his motives. Always expecting him to finally reveal the true purpose of this exercise.” She drew in a deep breath, meeting her friend’s eyes with a softening gaze of her own. More than anything Anna wanted Henrietta to understand. “To this day, the only thing I can lay at his door is the manner of his proposal. Aside from that, he has behaved honourably.” Henrietta’s eyes grew round as plates. “Please, Henrietta,” Anna pleaded. “Do not shut your mind to even the possibility that he might be a decent man who cares about me! Is it truly so hard to believe that he would? That he could care about me?” Anna held her breath, knowing deep down how much her friend’s opinion mattered to her; scared that Henrietta’s refusal to believe that such a possibility existed would shatter the last bits of self-worth she had left. How had this happened? When had she started to think of herself as unworthy of affection?
“Men rarely care for their wives,” Henrietta snapped, crossing her arms in defiance of Anna’s words. “You are a fool if you believe your husband married your for anything more than monetary concerns.”
Anna felt her shoulders slump as her dearest friend echoed the words she held in her heart…and feared to be true. “Maybe he did not care about me in the beginning, but feelings can change, can they not?” Mine have, she whispered to herself.
Shaking her head in disbelief, Henrietta snorted. “I cannot believe that you of all people can believe such a thing. Have we not spent many years together observing those around us? Seeing how disrespectful husbands treated their wives? How their wives put on a brave face, pretending their lives had any meaning at all? Any meaning beyond that of a trophy? Did we not pity those women, determined we would never join their ranks?”
Feeling defeated, Anna nodded. After all, Henrietta’s words were true. And yet, remembering the many years they had walked through life side by side, Anna realised that it had always been on Henrietta’s urgings that they had engaged in such an observation. Her friend had usually pointed out another unfortunate wife, having to suffer her husband’s temper, indiscretions and disrespect. And while Anna was sure that Henrietta was not generally wrong, that there were indeed a number of marriages of that kind, she couldn’t help but wonder if, should they dare to look for them, they would be able to find love matches as well.
Remembering her sister’s marriage, Anna felt certain they would. “Henrietta, I do not wish to argue with you,” she said, offering a smile. “I am sure you have your reasons for believing as you do. All I am asking is that you respect my thoughts as well.” Before Henrietta could interrupt, Anna lifted a hand to stop her. “Please, let me finish. Generally, I do agree with you. But my own experience leads me to question what I believed to be true. I owe it to myself to find out if he truly cares for me, if he truly wishes for me to be who I am without restraint. Can you understand that?”
For a long while Henrietta didn’t say a word, her eyes distant before they once again focused on Anna’s face. She took a deep breath, folding her hands in her lap. Although she appeared calm and collected, Anna detected a slight tremble shaking her friend’s small frame. “I cannot,” she whispered, and Anna’s hopes fell. “I see your sincerity in your eyes, and I do not wish you ill, but I cannot see the wisdom of your words. He will disappoint you. I am as sure of it as I am of the sun rising in the east, and to tell you anything other than what I truly believe is something my conscience does not allow me to do.” She rose from her seat then. “I wish you well, Anna, but I cannot approve of the path you’ve chosen. You will have to walk it by yourself.” A single tear spilled over and ran down her pale cheek. Sniffing, she brushed it away, then nodded her head at Anna before she turned and left the room.
Dumbfounded, Anna remained on the settee in the same drawing room where they had spent many of their days, laughing and chatting. Looking around, Anna couldn’t believe what had just happened. Had she truly lost her friend? Never in her wildest dreams would she have thought it possible that Henrietta would abandon her. Once again she wondered what had hardened her friend to the ways of the heart. Did she never feel the need to be loved? And to love in return?
Shaking her head, Anna buried her face in her hands and wept.
Chapter Thirty − A Painful Question
As the carriage rumbled along, Anna’s gaze remained lost in the landscape before her eyes. And yet her mind did not see the clear blue sky stretching to the horizon, meeting the lush green meadow in a race against time. Nothing reached inside her, not the bird calls or crickets chirping nor the soft breeze as it travelled through the land, rustling leaves and carrying the smell of a new year starting to bloom on its wings.
The only thing Anna’s eyes saw was the question that had tormented her mind for days. The question that seemed to be at the root of all her problems. The question that had sent her into the carriage at the break of dawn.
How much?
How much had her father had to spend in order for her hus
band to agree to marrying her? How much was she worth?
Although a part of Anna knew that it was ludicrous to rest her idea of her own worth solely on such a matter, she couldn’t help but feel the need to find out how much or how little her father had to pay in order to tempt her husband. But what would the answer to this question tell her? Would she feel at ease if the amount had been high? Did that means she was worth a lot? Or would it be preferable to know that her father had only offered a small amount and yet the duke had agreed? Maybe he had liked her after all when first meeting her that night over supper?
The questions roamed her mind, inducing a terrible headache, that Anna soon closed her eyes, resting her head against the seat’s backrest. She had to know! But what then? Would she ever be at peace again? Did others feel the way she did? Or was she the only woman insulted by a dowry paid to her husband?
When the carriage finally reached Brookestone late that afternoon, Anna barely glanced at the vaguely familiar manor, but hastened straight to bed. Although sleep claimed her quickly that night, the questions remained, tormenting her dreams as much as they had done so during her waking hours. She found her husband’s eyes looking down at her, full of concern and affection. She felt his arms come around her, holding her tight as she sobbed. In these moments, sleep would paint a smile on her face. However, it was a smile that didn’t linger.
Soon, his usual smirk would wipe away all traces of devotion, making her wonder if, deep inside, he was laughing at her. Did he truly care as he had implied more than once? Or was Henrietta right? Why had he never confessed to his feelings openly?
Why haven’t you? A quiet voice whispered.
After having gone to bed early the night before, Anna rose with the sun, had an early breakfast and then rushed on to the first task on a list that was to lead her to the answer she desired. Having asked the butler for directions, Anna found herself walking down a corridor in the west wing as the sun slowly began its ascend on the horizon. When she came upon a heavy-set door of darkened wood, she stopped, took a deep breath, then knocked.
A deep voice bade her to enter.
The man behind the desk looked to be of her father’s age, his auburn hair neatly brushed back and his clothing in meticulous order. Not a wrinkle in sight! A pen in hand, he sat before a rather voluminous ledger, his gaze slowly lifting off the page to meet hers.
Seeing her standing in the door, his eyes widened slightly and he swallowed before jumping to his feet. “Your grace!” he exclaimed, hastening around the rather sizable desk and giving her a formal bow. “I heard that you had returned. Welcome back! Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Thank you, Mr. Lloyd.” Anna greeted her husband’s steward with a formal nod. Since the day of her wedding Anna had not laid eyes on the man as he generally kept to himself, the estate and its tenants his only concern. “I came to speak to you about Brookestone’s upkeep.” Mr. Lloyd’s eyes narrowed. “Considering my husband’s inability to concern himself with numbers, I thought it my duty to do so in his stead,” Anna explained, trying her best to sound cheerful while only mildly interested. “Would you mind if I had a look at the ledgers?”
“But there is no need, your grace,” Mr. Lloyd quickly assured her. An indulgent smile on his face, he stepped in front of the desk as though to bar her view on the item in question. “Believe me, Brookestone’s financials are in good hands. And should any concern arise I will be sure to bring it to your husband’s attention.”
Eyeing the determined set of the older man’s brows, Anna stepped back, nodding, a smile on her face. “Well, then I suppose everything is in order. But do be sure to alert my husband to any issues immediately. As you are aware, I am sure, he tends to avoid any responsibility that involves numbers of any kind.”
“Certainly, your grace.” Bowing his head, Mr. Lloyd escorted her to the door. “I bid you a good day.”
As the door closed behind her, Anna thought to hear a sigh of relief from the other side. Why had he seemed so determined−almost desperately so−not to show her the ledgers? Was it simply a general belief that women ought to have no say in such matters? Immediately an image of Henrietta appeared before her, stern face, furious eyes and a scowl that would have scared Mr. Lloyd witless. A soft chuckle rose from her throat at the thought.
Determined not to be swayed from her path, Anna walked the grounds of Brookestone. The fresh air did her good, and soon her mind relaxed, allowing her to contemplate her predicament. Clearly, Mr. Lloyd was disinclined to assist her. Therefore, she had to find a way around him.
Still unsure how her husband would feel about her endeavour, should he find out, Anna decided to keep her true intentions in coming to Brookestone to herself. There surely was a way around the restraints placed on her. All she had to do was wait…and keep her eyes open. Before long, Anna felt certain, an opportunity would present itself.
In the following days Anna familiarised herself with Mr. Lloyd’s schedule. Fortunately, the man was like clockwork. While he spent his mornings indoors in his study, he usually took a horse around the estate in the afternoon in order to oversee any repairs, converse with tenants and assure that everything was done exactly as ordered. Therefore, when Anna spotted Mr. Lloyd climbing his bay mare early that afternoon, she lost little time, but hastened down the corridor to the man’s study as soon as the echo of his mare’s hooves could no longer be heard.
Despite knowing that as the mistress of this house she had every right to enter her steward’s office, Anna felt a morsel of guilt upon turning the housekeeper’s general key in the lock and stepping over the threshold. However, as soon as the door closed behind her, her mind immediately focused on the task at hand. Rounding the desk, Anna’s heart sank as she found it empty, no ledgers cluttering its surface. But then she remembered the meticulous fashion in which Mr. Lloyd accomplished all his tasks and was no longer surprised to find it empty. Turning to the rows upon rows of shelves behind her, she let her eyes sweep over the many volumes that occupied them before they settled on a small cabinet to the right, slightly hidden by a rather dwarfing shelf.
Approaching the cabinet, Anna breathed a sigh of relief as she found it unlocked. Apparently, Mr. Lloyd saw no need to do so, which was not at all surprising considering that he had locked the door to his study and was therefore justified in thinking them safe. Unable to help herself, Anna glanced over her shoulder before opening the cabinet and taking the first ledger from the upper left corner. Flipping through it, she found it referred to the dealings of Brookestone about fifty years ago. Eyes already scanning the following rows, Anna returned it to its rightful place before choosing one three rows down. Relieved she found that the dates listed placed the usage of the ledger about five years ago. Skipping ahead another two, Anna finally found the ledger she had been looking for.
Once more rounding the desk, Anna took Mr. Lloyd’s seat, placing the large volume before her. Hesitating for a moment, Anna drew a deep breath, the scent of mint and cinnamon tickling her nose. A cup of tea would be lovely, she thought before reminding herself why she was there.
Still unsure what she hoped to find, Anna forced herself to open the book. Her eyes travelled over the pages, one after another, until the dates closed in on the one she was looking for, her wedding day.
Right there, in a column marked ‘Funds’ was her father’s name−not even hers, but her father’s−and below that Anna found such an astoundingly high number that she had to stare at it a whole minute in order to assure herself she was not imagining it. How on earth could her father have afforded to outfit her with such a large dowry? Never would she have thought his business had profited him so greatly.
And yet here it was, in black and white, the truth. But what did this mean? Was she worth a lot? Or so little that only with a compensation of such a large sum the duke could have been persuaded to marry her? Closing her eyes, Anna rested her head in her hands. Even with the answer before her, the questions remained the same. At least th
e one that mattered. The one that kept her awake at night. The one that kept her from taking a chance on her new husband.
Upon opening her eyes, Anna found her gaze travel over the page before her. Apart from her dowry, the column marked ‘Funds’ was rather empty. A second column however appeared filled to the brim. The dates listed referred to the last year before her wedding, and the amounts that had been withdrawn were smaller. What Anna found rather odd was that no purpose other than ‘miscellaneous’ had been listed. Considering how meticulous Mr. Lloyd was in every other way of his life, Anna would have suspected him to be more specific with regard to Brookestone’s financials. Skimming through the ledger, Anna found that she had not been wrong in her assumption. Every amount, whether withdrawn or added, was listed with specific details. Heavens, she even found a listing for nails purchased to repair a tenants thatched roof!
How could Mr. Lloyd not have listed anything with regard to these sums? Anna wondered, returning her attention to the page in question. Although some of these withdrawals were rather small, the sum of them all had to amount to quite a fortune. Doing a quick calculation in her head, Anna wondered if her husband had gambling debts. Was that not a common pastime for gentlemen of the ton?
“What? That cannot be right,” Anna mumbled as a specific sum began to form in her head. Grabbing quill and paper, she added up the numbers once again, assuring herself that she had not made a mistake.
And then, for the second time that day, she found the truth staring up at her in black and white.
The amounts that had been withdrawn added up almost exactly to the dowry her father had paid for her. How could that be? Anna wondered, shaking her head. How had her father known? Or had her husband demanded this exact amount to cover his debts? How had he lost so much money? In the time they had spent together she had never noticed any extravagances that would explain this. And in so short a time!
