He wished it were raining.
Samuel pulled the brim of his hat down over his face and scowled, silently resenting the sunshine that seemed determined to accompany them all the way on their journey from Bath to Derbyshire. It felt wrong to be arriving in Staunton on such a beautiful spring day when all he could feel was dread. There ought to be clouds. Big grey stormy ones preferably, filled with torrential rain and lightning and hailstones for good measure.
He threw a swift glance towards the carriage where Anna and her mother were ensconced while he rode on horseback. After two days of near-constant travel, they were both probably sick of the sight of the interior, but at least they were safely out of range of his thunderous glares. He’d joined them for some of the journey, but it had only made his mood worse. Sitting opposite Anna without being able to touch her had been more than his patience could bear. They hadn’t been alone since his grandmother’s evening party, but every time he looked at her he found himself wanting to kiss her again. Just the memory of her lips made his own tingle. Not to mention other parts of him. He wondered if she felt the same way, half-afraid that she might have changed her mind after the party, but unfortunately there had been no opportunities to find out...
‘Is that Staunton?’
He looked around to see Anna’s head poking out of the carriage window, one of her arms gesturing into the distance. His next impulse was to turn his horse and ride south again without looking, but since he couldn’t do that, he braced himself to look in the direction of her hand instead.
He already knew the answer, of course. They’d passed through Staunton village a couple of minutes before so there was really only one house it could be. Her question was surely rhetorical, though the amazement in her voice suggested an element of disbelief, too.
Slowly, he looked up and understood why. Staunton Manor put even his grandparents’ hall in Rutland to shame, though in fact there was not one, but two Staunton Manors, a huge red-brick mansion standing beside the ruins of a smaller, much older-looking stone building. Set amid perfectly maintained lawns and woodland, the old and the new were located side by side at the top of a south-facing incline that looked out over rolling hills towards a range of peaks in the distance. He’d been told the new building was Tudor, built during the latter half of the sixteenth century in a then-popular Renaissance style, but what it lacked in modernity, it more than made up for in extravagance. From their vantage point on the drive the afternoon sun reflected off a row of large, vertical windows, ten on each of the four levels by the look of it, making the whole frontage seem to sparkle.
He let his gaze roam over the assorted towers and cupolas and projecting bays, each of them emblazoned with intricate patterns of heraldic symbols and crests. It was impossible not to admire the attention to detail. Even the drive was impressive, lined with topiary in intriguing, though not always recognisable, shapes, all leading towards a large gravelled area in front of the house. The whole place exuded rank and ostentation, as he imagined it was supposed to, not to mention wealth and power, yet somehow it had all come down to him. Briefly, he wondered what its original owner would have thought about that. Nothing that bore repeating, he imagined.
To his horror, however, worse was to come. As they drew closer, he saw literally dozens of people start to gather on the front steps—the entire household staff, by the look of it—led by the butler and housekeeper, though there was no sign of anyone resembling the lady of the house. Which was one small mercy, at least. The last thing he wanted was an audience to watch his meeting with Percival’s widow, though he couldn’t help but wonder why she was absent.
Unfortunately, there was nowhere to go but forward and no way to arrive unobtrusively, either. He smothered a few choice swear words and jumped down from his horse reluctantly.
‘Captain Delaney.’ The butler executed a bow so low that his nose almost scraped along the gravel. ‘It’s an honour to meet you, sir. We received your request to prepare rooms for yourself and two others. May I present the staff?’
Samuel’s first thought was no. No, he could not present the staff. The staff, for all he cared, could all go and take leaps into the nearest lake, but they were all staring expectantly at him...
‘I’m not sure that would be appropriate.’ He glanced towards one of the upper windows, where he thought he noticed a flicker of movement. ‘Considering Lady Staunton.’
‘It was her order, sir.’ The butler looked embarrassed. ‘She was most particular about it.’
‘Ah. I see. Very well, then.’
He gritted his teeth, following the butler along an interminable line of staff and giving nods at appropriate places until the housekeeper finally came to his rescue.
‘Perhaps yourself and your guests would care for some tea in the drawing room, Captain?’
‘That would be most welcome, Mrs...’ He racked his memory for the name he’d just been given.
‘Minty.’ Anna’s voice murmured behind him.
‘Minty,’ he echoed. ‘Will Lady Staunton be joining us?’
‘I’m afraid that her ladyship has a headache.’ The housekeeper’s eyes dropped to the floor, though not before he saw a definite flash of panic. ‘She said that she’ll see you at dinner, Captain.’
‘Ah. I see.’ He glanced back at Anna with a look of gratitude and relief, extending an arm before leading her up the front steps towards a door set at a right angle in one of the projecting bays.
‘The drawing room is just through here.’ The housekeeper led them through a cavernous, stone-floored hallway, empty except for a collection of wooden chairs by the fireplace, then along a side corridor and into a large, oak-panelled room. ‘I’ll attend to the tea.’
‘You did very well.’ Anna squeezed his arm once the housekeeper had departed. ‘That can’t have been easy.’
He gave a tight smile. ‘At least I’m used to inspections.’
‘That’s true.’ She let him go and wandered across to one of the tall sash windows. ‘I suppose that managing a large household is a bit like running a ship. And maybe an estate is like a fleet.’ She glanced back at him thoughtfully. ‘That would make you an admiral.’
‘I appreciate the confidence.’ He looked around at the elegantly decorated, cream-coloured drawing room. ‘So here we are. It’s a beautiful house.’
‘It is.’
‘You could fit a whole ship into that hallway.’
‘And still have room for my shop in one corner.’
‘Where’s your mother?’ Samuel twisted around, acutely aware that they were finally alone together.
‘She said she wanted a stroll through the gardens after being cooped up for so long. I think she’s nervous about tomorrow.’
‘What about you?’ He found his gaze riveted on her slender figure as she stood, bathed in sunshine in the window. ‘Are you nervous, too?’
‘A little, but now that we’re here, I’m glad. It’s nice to get away.’ She looked apologetic. ‘Sorry.’
‘Don’t be. I’m glad that one of us is enjoying themselves.’
She gave him a sympathetic smile. ‘Thank you for bringing us. I know that you didn’t really want to.’
‘You persuaded me, remember?’
‘Oh, yes.’ She bit her lip as the air between them seemed to become charged suddenly. ‘So I did.’
He sat down in an armchair to stop himself from going to her. The urge to take her in his arms was as strong as ever, but somehow being in this house, a house he’d never wanted to see, let alone visit, made him doubly afraid that she might have changed her mind about him. It seemed so unlikely that she was here at all or that she’d altered her thinking about the aristocracy. He was half-afraid to believe it was true. Besides, the housekeeper, not to mention her mother, would be back any minute.
‘I suppose the tea will be here soon.’ She seemed to be thinking the same thing.
‘I’d prefer rum.’
‘It’s too early for rum.’
‘Maybe a little.’ He sighed. ‘Do you suppose that Lady Staunton really has a headache?’
‘I can’t judge that before I meet her. It might be true.’
‘Or she might just be appalled at my poor manners in coming here?’
‘You’re not doing anything wrong.’ She walked back towards him, stopping just in front of his chair. ‘You’ve given her plenty of time. Her baby’s due next month, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, although I don’t know if that makes my behaviour better or worse.’
‘It is what it is. It’s the intention that matters and you didn’t come here with the intention of hurting anyone.’
‘Thank you, Anna.’ He dug his fingernails into the arms of the chair, resisting the urge to pull her down onto his lap. ‘I’m starting to wonder what I would do without you.’
The next morning dawned as bright as the last, the sky a breathtaking pastel orange and blue as the three of them sat down for breakfast, the earliness of which appeared to both shock and scandalise some of the staff.
Anna sipped at a cup of hot chocolate, looking between Samuel and her mother with a feeling of helplessness. Despite their outward appearances of calm, it was hard to tell which of them was more nervous. Her mother was drumming her fingers rhythmically on the tablecloth and Samuel’s gaze kept drifting in the direction of the doorway as if he expected Lady Staunton to make an appearance, though since she hadn’t come down to dinner, after all, sending another message to say she was still feeling unwell, Anna doubted they’d see her at breakfast, either. Her own sympathy for the woman was starting to wear thin. No matter how much she was grieving, she might still have shown her face, even briefly. Her continued absence only made Samuel feel worse.
There hadn’t been any opportunity for them to resume the conversation they’d begun at his grandmother’s evening party. Which was a good thing, she told herself, since it wasn’t one that ought to be continued, no matter how enjoyable she’d found it at the time. It was undoubtedly better to wait and find out what the future would bring before resuming anything, even if the look on his face when he’d said he didn’t know what he’d do without her the previous afternoon made her wish otherwise...
They made their way to her uncle’s estate early, too, her and her mother in an open-topped barouche with Samuel riding alongside. She’d told him that he didn’t need to accompany them any further, but he’d insisted, looking visibly relieved as they’d drawn away from Staunton Manor, seemingly engrossed in his own thoughts as they travelled in silence the miles between the two houses.
It took just over an hour to reach her uncle’s house at Feversham. Compared to Staunton, it looked like the very height of modernity, built in an elegant Palladian style that seemed to spring up like a natural extension of the parkland around it. Anna felt her lips curl with self-mocking amusement. Up until a few weeks ago, she’d never been inside anything resembling a mansion before, yet now she seemed to be making a habit of it.
‘This is it, Mama.’ She clutched her mother’s hand supportively.
‘Yes.’ Her mother’s fingers trembled. ‘I just hope I’m doing the right thing.’
‘Of course you are. They invited you, remember?’
‘Yes, but what if...?’ Her mother leaned forward suddenly. ‘Oh!’
‘What’s the—? Oh!’ Anna echoed as she turned her head to see two people waiting for them on the drive, a small, silver-haired lady holding a cane beside a gentleman with greying curly hair. Her grandmother and uncle, she presumed. Even at a distance she could see they both bore a striking resemblance to her mother.
Samuel dismounted before the carriage had stopped, opening the carriage door and lowering the steps without waiting for a servant to help him.
‘Mrs Fortini?’ He offered a hand and her mother clutched it, descending the steps with a look of unmistakable trepidation. As her feet touched the gravel there was a heavy moment of stillness, disturbed only by the sound of a blackbird trilling in the background, followed by a sudden flurry of activity as she and the grey-haired man both moved at the same time, each of them throwing their arms around the other.
Anna watched, fighting a swell in her throat. Samuel held out his arm and she took it, stepping down onto the drive to find herself face to face with the silver-haired lady.
‘You must be Annabelle.’ To her surprise, the woman had tears in her eyes. ‘I’m so delighted to meet you, my dear.’
‘I’m pleased to meet you, too, your Grace.’ She dipped into a curtsy.
‘Curls!’ The older woman peered under her bonnet. ‘You have my curls!’
‘Oh...yes.’ Anna lifted her shoulders and then dropped them again, unsure how else to respond as the woman gave a stifled sob and then pressed a handkerchief to her face, bursting into a flurry of tears. Thankfully, her mother and the grey-haired man walked quickly to join them.
‘I didn’t say anything terrible, I promise...’ Anna looked at her mother apologetically.
‘I know, dear.’
‘It’s not your fault,’ the man hastened to reassure her. His expression was kindly, though his eyes looked moist, too, she noticed. ‘I’m afraid that my mother’s been feeling somewhat overwrought this morning. You must be my niece.’
‘Yes.’ Anna nodded, feeling as though she were in some kind of bizarre dream. ‘I suppose I must be.’
‘I’m your uncle, Tobias Holden.’ He extended a hand. ‘Welcome to Feversham, Miss Annabelle. How do you do?’
‘I...’ She had the impression that her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth.
‘Captain Samuel Delaney,’ Samuel interceded, taking her uncle’s proffered hand when she didn’t move and shaking it warmly. ‘Perhaps Miss Fortini and I might take a walk around your gardens while you and your sister get reacquainted? I’m sure that you have a lot to catch up on.’
‘That sounds like a good idea.’ Her uncle agreed tactfully. ‘Though I’d very much like to talk with my niece afterwards. If that’s agreeable to you, of course, Miss Annabelle?’
‘Anna, and yes.’ She finally managed a strained smile, clutching hold of Samuel’s arm as if her life depended on it. ‘Just give me an hour. Or two.’