The Secret Life of Miss Anna Marsh (23 page)

“D
id you tell me you'd already visited Madame Lisette?” Lady Rutherford asked.

Emma took a breath and turned to face her godmother. She was very tired of the delay in London. She tried to keep the irritation from her voice. “Yes, I have everything I shall need until we return for the Season.”

Lady Rutherford beamed. “Excellent. I imagine we'll do some entertaining, though, to be sure, there are not many young men to interest you in our area.”

Emma gave her godmama the smile Lady Rutherford expected. “I really think I should just become used to being in England. It's all so different and large.”

Emma hadn't spent an hour in Lady Rutherford's company before Emma had decided not to tell her godmother about Harry. No gentleman less than a viscount would interest Lady Rutherford. She was a bundle of contradictions. At times she could be warm and caring, and then the next minute, was so distracted she appeared shallow and vapid. Emma didn't quite know how she was to spend several months in the woman's company. What Emma needed urgently was an address for Harry. “If you could give me the direction to your home, I will write my mama.”

“Oh, there is no need,” Lady Rutherford replied airily. “I already wrote telling her you had arrived. By the time she receives the letter, you will be at my town house, which is the address she has.”

“Yes, Godmama.” Emma tried not to sigh. “When shall we leave for your home?”

“Well, I would like to stay for a few more days in London.” She sighed. “Though I suppose I should go home. With the wedding coming up . . .”

“We can leave today. I don't have anything else I need to accomplish and, after traveling so much, I would like to be settled for a bit.”

Lady Rutherford formed a
moue
. “No, dearest, tomorrow at the earliest. Are you sure you don't mind leaving the metropolis so soon after your arrival?”

For the first time since Emma had said farewell to Mrs. Wickham, Emma's smile was genuine. “Not at all. As I said, I'd like to be still for a while. I'm sure I shall visit all the sights in London upon my return.”

“Good. Have you hired a dresser?”

Not another delay.
“No, I've been using the services of one of the maids.”

“You really do need a dresser,” her godmother said. “We must remain until you've hired one.”

Emma tightened her lips at this latest attempt to remain in London. “The maid is really very experienced. Perhaps she would agree to stay with me.”

“You can always try, my dear,” Lady Rutherford said doubtfully.

“Please excuse me.” Emma walked out of the room and ran down the corridor to the bell pull in her chambers. In less than five minutes, a young woman with straw-colored hair appeared.

Emma took her hands. “Molly, I like your work very well. Would you entertain the idea of becoming my dresser?”

The young woman gave Emma a toothy grin. “Oh, miss, I'd like it ever so much. Are you sure? I ain't fancy.”

“You do a good job. As long as you are honest with me, we'll have no problems. I'll ask if Lady Rutherford's dresser can school you.”

The maid nodded. “I'm honest. When my mistress died, the recommendation she gave me got me this job, and I'll do my best to learn.”

Emma sighed with relief. “Can you be ready to leave in the morning? We are traveling to the country and shall be there until the Season. I've been given to understand it is a quiet place.”

Molly grinned. “I'm not Town-bred. I don't mind it here in London, but it'll be nice to get away for a while.”

Emma nodded. “Good. Gather your things and pack mine. I'll inform the hotel you've decided to stay with me.”

“Let me get them to bring the trunks.”

Emma returned to her godmother's room. Smoothing her skirts, she took a couple of deep breaths before knocking on the door and entering. “It's done. Molly will come with me. We'll be ready in the morning. Is there anything you'd like me to do for you?”

“Oh, so soon?” Lady Rutherford's eyes widened. “Well, then, yes, my dear Emma, could you have the coach readied?”

Emma curtseyed. “Yes, Godmama.”

After Emma returned to her room, she rang the bell pull for a steward. “Please tell Lady Rutherford's coachman we will depart in the morning. I'd like breakfast served at eight o'clock.”

“Yes, miss.”

Emma pressed a coin into his hand.

He smiled. “I'll do it right away, miss.”

Closing the door, she took the few steps to the desk chair and sat with her head in her hands. How could her parents have thought she'd be happy here? London was so unlike Kingston. Life was so much more complicated here.

Yesterday, when she had visited the bank in the City, they'd been shocked to see her, even though she knew her father had written them before she left,
and
she had her own letter.

Not knowing what she would need, or where the nearest banking facilities would be, because she'd not been apprised of her destination, Emma had drawn a sizable amount.

The bank manager had insisted a clerk accompany her back to the hotel until she told him she had a footman with her.

She refused to be a charge on her hostess, resolving not to owe Lady Rutherford anything when she left to join Harry. Emma had no doubt she loved him. He was caring, protective, and he made her laugh. Harry Marsh was the only bright spot in this, so far, cold and dismal land.

The next morning, Emma joined her godmother for breakfast at eight o'clock sharp. “My lady, won't you be happy to be home?”

Lady Rutherford looked at Emma blankly. “Oh, oh, yes, of course. Please pass the jam, my dear.”

Emma wanted to frown, but maintained her countenance, saying brightly, “Thank you so much for agreeing to sponsor me.”

Lady Rutherford took a sip of tea. “It is all my pleasure, my dear. I appreciate your taking charge of the arrangements. I'm really not at all good at that.”

Emma smiled politely. “Thank you.”

She devoutly hoped Lady Rutherford did not like the plodding pace that Mrs. Wickham enjoyed. Then again, if it were not for the slow speed of their travel, she would never have met Harry.

The sooner she discovered the direction of Lady Rutherford's home, the sooner Emma could write him. “I have the coach ordered to leave in a half an hour.”

“Yes, dear. As you wish,” Lady Rutherford said. “I know you'll be happy to stop traveling.”

Emma finished her tea. “I'll see you downstairs.”

Lady Rutherford put her cup down.

Emma met with the senior Rutherford coachman, Dobbins, while the trunks were being loaded. “How long will it take us?”

“His lordship keeps horses stabled on the road,” he replied. “His lordship's horses be sixteen mile tits. I'll get you there in about six hours. Maybe sooner. Her ladyship don't mind traveling fast.”

Lady Rutherford, her dresser, and Molly appeared at the door.

“Wonderful.” Emma smiled. “We shall be on our way.”

Dobbins handed Emma into the coach, and she took her place next to Lady Rutherford. “I think we are ready to go, Godmama.”

Lady Rutherford slept most of the way, waking only for a light meal and tea. Enjoying the silence, Emma read.

They arrived at the Priory in mid-afternoon to be informed that Lord Rutherford would not be back until the morrow and that all the Miss Rutherfords were with him.

Lady Rutherford frowned. “I might have known how it would be.”

Emma smiled politely and was happy to go to her room rather than listen to her godmama complain about her son and future daughter-in-law.

By five o'clock, it was dark. Emma walked around the chambers she'd been given and glanced out the windows, seeing nothing but the reflection of the room. She wondered where Harry was and how far away. She found paper, pen, ink, and wafers and sat down to write a letter to him.

Doors slamming, shushing, and the sound of feet running down the corridor woke Rutherford. Beside him, Anna sat up.

He grumbled sleepily. “What the devil are they doing?”

“Anna, are you up?” Cece's penetrating voice carried down the corridor.

“Shush. Go down to breakfast,” either Althea or Eloisa said. Right now, he couldn't be sure.

“That's a good idea. All of you girls go down before you wake everyone,” Lizzy said. “I'll send Miss Anna down in a while.”

Lizzy must be outside Anna's room.

“Come here.” Rutherford pulled Anna back down.

“Miss, you need to come.”

He groaned. “So much for that.”

Twenty minutes later, Rutherford held Anna's hand as they walked into the breakfast room. They were the last ones to arrive. His sisters were entertaining Sir William and Lady Marsh. This was what he wanted to accomplish at the Priory. Happy, smiling faces of his family at the breakfast table.

Harry sat back in a chair. “It's about time you two showed up.”

Rutherford looked down to see Anna blush. “Tell me what you want to eat, my love.”

“Just eggs and toast. I'll pour your tea.” She took a seat next to Harry. “Mama, Papa, good morning.”

Her mother smiled. “Good morning, my dear. It's so nice to have the family back together again.”

“I take it that everything's—all right?”

“Yes, we just needed some time alone,” Lady Marsh said. “Thank you for giving it to us.”

Rutherford took a seat next to Anna and glanced at his sisters. “Would one of you like to tell me what you were doing this morning making enough noise to wake the dead?”

Cece gave a good imitation of his scowl. “When are we going to Dover?”

“
Are
you going with us?” Anna asked.

Cece nodded her head. “Harry said we were all going.”

Anna glanced at her brother. “Ah, I see. When did you tell them that?”

Harry grinned. “Last night, I promised them if they were good, we'd take them with us.”

Anna put her hand on Rutherford's arm. “There's your answer.”

She glanced at Cece. “We shall plan to leave in an hour. If you've finished, go on and change.”

Once the girls made their noisy way up the stairs, Anna turned to Harry. “Have you considered how we are going to keep track of the two youngest in the warehouse?”

“You aren't,” he said. “Whilst you are shopping, I've decided to take them around town. We'll meet for luncheon at the Ship. I've reserved a private parlor.”

Anna reached over and kissed him. “You are truly the best of brothers.”

Lady Marsh looked up. “It's so nice to see the three of you together again. Lord Rutherford, I am extremely happy that you and Anna have decied to marry. I'm also very pleased you and your sisters are visiting for a few days.”

“Thank you, my lady, and for allowing us to stay.”

Anna glanced around the room. “Where is Aunt Lillian?”

“I'm here, my dear. If you're going out, I'll say good-bye. I'm leaving today, but I shall return for your wedding.”

After they wished her aunt a good trip home, it was decided Harry would ride in the coach with the girls. Rutherford would take Anna in his curricle.

Just over an hour later, they rumbled over the cobblestone streets of Dover and into the yard of the Ship, a century-old posting house near the center of town. Harry walked off with Eloisa in one hand and Cece, skipping, in the other.

Rutherford accompanied Anna and Althea to the warehouse, located a short distance down the busy high street. “Anna, I'll see you at the inn.”

She grinned. “Are you sure you don't wish to help select fabrics?”

He lifted his quizzing glass and surveyed the racks against the walls and the numerous tables set up in the room. “No, my dear. I'll leave that to you.”

“Very well. I'll see you later at the Ship.”

He left them to shop, making his way back to the inn. Opening the solid oak door, he strode through the heavy curtain hung to keep the cold out. “I'm here to see Mr. Smythe,” he said to the landlord.

“Yes, sir, please follow me.”

They walked down a corridor from which Rutherford could see a workroom and the kitchen, then up the narrow backstairs to a parlor. The landlord opened the door, and Rutherford stepped in. The room was a fair size, but had no decoration save a few paintings on the wall. It was probably used for a card room. He waited until the sound of footsteps receded before raising a brow and regarding the elegant gentleman lounging at a table set in the center of the chamber.

The weak winter sun poured through small windows. “Smythe, a very English name,
Monsieur le Marquis
.”

“Indeed. I fear England is rubbing off on me.” He kicked a chair out from the table. “Please, sit.”

Rutherford took a seat. “A little far afield from your usual haunts, aren't you?”

The gentleman motioned to the decanter of wine. Rutherford nodded, and the gentleman poured a glass. “London has become inhospitable for me.”

Rutherford smiled thinly. “I heard arrangements had been made to dispose of you. Family can be the very devil. You should at least try to get along with your relations.”

“Ah, my dear Rutherford, how well you know me.”

Rutherford picked up the glass and took a sip. Nothing to complain about there. “Who are you whoring for this time?”

The other man assumed a slightly pained expression. “You wrong me, Rutherford. I am merely trying to protect what is mine.”

Leaning back in his chair, Rutherford stretched out his legs, crossing one booted foot over the other. He twirled his wine glass and watched the liquid briefly coat the sides. “What is it you want?”

“You English,” the man complained. “Always wanting to get straight to the point.”

Rutherford set the glass down with a snap. “I don't have all day. My betrothed is shopping nearby, and we are to meet here when she's done.”

“Ah, yes, I did read you have become
engagé à
the lovely Miss Marsh. I felicitate you for making such a conquest.”

“Cut line, Georges, and tell me what you want, or I'm leaving, and Jamison can send someone else to play games with you.”

Georges sat up, all hints of languor gone. “There is going to be a delivery from France next week that you may want to consider intercepting.”

Rutherford controlled his countenance. “A human delivery?”

“Yes, you could say that.”

Finally, word about the spies. “When?”

“Early morning on the twenty-fourth,” Georges replied.

He never did anything for nothing. “What do you want from this?”

Leaning back in his chair again, Georges studied his glass, before saying, “I merely wish to take one of the packages with me.”

“And do what precisely with it?” Rutherford asked, all his suspicions roused.

“That is personal.” Georges's gaze bored into him with an intensity Rutherford had rarely seen the man exhibit. “Will you agree?”

Rutherford pretended to consider the information. “I'll have to tell Jamison.”

“But, of course. I would expect nothing less from the so loyal and proper Baron Rutherford.”

Rutherford glanced down at his glass and thought of Anna. “Who knows, were I in your position, to protect my family, I might play the same game you are.”

Georges smiled wryly. “No, no, Rutherford. Of a certainty, you would always remain faithful. I do not wish to think of you otherwise.”

Rutherford tossed off his wine and stood. “How will we know which package is yours?”

“You cannot mistake her. She will not belong with the rest.”

“Very well. I'll send word.”

Georges rose as well. “It may take me a few days to respond.”

“I understand. Stay safe.” Rutherford held out his hand, and Georges clasped it.

“You as well. These are troubled times.”

Leaving out the back door of the inn, Rutherford strode down the mews into a side street, making his way to the opposite side of the road in front of the Ship. Several minutes later, a sailor walked past and dropped a folded paper. Rutherford placed his foot over it. When he was sure the sailor wasn't followed, he picked it up and opened it.
Anchor.

He strolled toward the docks, taking his time as if he had nothing better to do, slowly heading for the Anchor Tavern, a small run-down inn on a side street off the wharf. After spending a few minutes perusing the ships, he entered the tavern and asked for Mr. Brown.

Rutherford supposed if he had to meet anyone else today, the man would be called Jones.

Once again, he followed the landlord up a back staircase to a small, seedy parlor. He was greeted by a large man with fair hair. He shook Jamison's hand.

“What did Georges say?”

“They're arriving on Thursday, the twenty-fourth. He wants to keep one of them,” Rutherford replied.

“Indeed?” Jamison said. “I don't know if I like the sound of that.”

“Knowing our dear Monsieur le Marquis, he wouldn't have contacted us if it wasn't important that he take the person he has in mind. It's the only way we'll get his help.”

“Very well. I'll send the other men in the day before.”

“That would make me feel better.” Rutherford grinned. “By the way, I ascertained who Harry left in charge of the gang.”

Jamison raised a brow.

“Miss Marsh.”

“
Miss Marsh?
Your intended?” Jamison's jaw dropped open.

“Yes,” Rutherford said ruefully. “You may imagine my surprise when I made the discovery.”

Jamison gave a bark of laughter.

As long as Rutherford was being free with his information, he might as well tell Jamison everything. “By the way, Harry's back.”

Jamison stopped laughing and frowned. “Where the devil has he been?”

“On Guernsey. Lost his memory. He's fine now.”

“Guernsey! To think he was so close, and we never had any idea.” Jamison shook his head. “He was a lucky dog to have survived.”

“Indeed.”

“Do you think he'd like to come back to work?” Jamison asked.

“You can ask, but I don't think his plans lie in that direction. He's thinking of running for Parliament.”

“His father's seat?”

“What else?” Rutherford stood. “I must go. I'm engaged to meet Miss Marsh and my sister for luncheon.”

Jamison shook his hand. “Good luck. I'll send word when the team I send is in place.”

Rutherford nodded and left the room.

Again, he went out the back, circled around, and waited before taking a circuitous route back to the high street, where he visited a furniture maker before walking back to the Ship.

Rutherford was the first to arrive. A little while later, Harry came in with Eloisa and Cece. His sisters' cheeks were pink, and they looked wind-blown. Eloisa presented a much neater picture than Cece, whose braids were undone and whose hands and skirts were smudged with black. “What on earth happened to you?”

Harry laughed and pulled Cece around to re-braid her hair. “She wanted to get a better look at a gull and tripped. I don't know if the dress is ruined or not.”

By the time Harry was finished, Cece was at least presentable, and her hands were clean.

“Harry,” Eloisa said, “how do you know how to braid hair?”

“I used to braid my sister's.”

“Oooh.” She glanced at Rutherford.

“She was always messy.”

Anna glided in, looking precise as a pin. “Oh, good, you're all here. I'm famished.”

Althea trailed behind her, tucking loose curls back under her hat. “I don't know how Anna does it. She went everywhere I did, and there's not a hair out of place.”

An image of Anna's wild hair first thing in the morning crossed Rutherford's mind. He smiled. “Althea, you'll have to have Anna teach you. I assure you, she wasn't always like that.”

A knock came, and three servants entered carrying large trays.

Their little party did a good job of disposing of the bread, meats, cheeses, a large portion of venison pie, sides of brussels sprouts with shallots and chestnuts, as well as copious amounts of lemonade, and small jam-filled tarts.

Cece finished a lemon curd tart and swallowed. “I think you should bring us to Dover more often.”

Eloisa nodded her head. “Me too.”

Rutherford shook his head at the amount of food his sisters had consumed, then turned to Anna. “Did you buy everything you needed?”

“Most of it. I'm afraid the coach will be rather full on the way back. I had them wrap the materials by room.” She glanced at the girls. “You won't mind sitting on packages, will you?”

“Will I be high enough to see out the window?” Eloisa asked.

“Why, yes, I think that can be arranged.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “I'm not sitting on parcels.”

Anna's eyes sparkled. “No, you'll have them under your feet.”

“I want to go see.” Cece jumped down off the books on her chair.

They all trouped out to the carriage. Rutherford quite frankly thought Anna had been exaggerating, until he saw how tightly the coach was packed. “Do I have any money left?”