The Rescue (28 page)

“I have a sister,” Penny said very softly to Anne when the service was over the next morning. “Her name is Catherine Anne.”

“I think that’s wonderful. Have you held her?”

Penny nodded. “She only cried a little.”

“You must have been very gentle.”

Penny looked shy and pleased all at the same time.

“Do you know what arrived for Mr Weston and me this week?” Anne asked.

Penny glanced at Weston who sat on the other side of Anne. He smiled at her before she looked back at the lady herself.

“Was it a gift?”

“Yes, and the note said you picked it out for us.”

“It was a bowl,” Penny told her unnecessarily, relieved she could finally speak of it.

“A beautiful compote.”

“Yes,” Weston agreed with his wife. “You’ll have to come and visit us at Brown Manor, Penny, sometime after we return from London, so we can put it to use.”

“You’re going to London?”

“Yes, we are.”

“When?”

Anne looked to her spouse, realizing she didn’t know that answer.

“Monday, next week.”

“What will you do?” the little girl asked.

“We’ll visit with Mr Weston’s mother and do a bit of shopping. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Penny was still agreeing with Anne when Jennings approached. Both Anne and Weston came to their feet.

“Congratulations!” Weston offered as the men shook hands.

“Thank you.”

“How is Mari?” Anne wished to know.

“She’s very well.”

“Up to visitors?”

“Absolutely. Come soon.”

“They’re going to London,” Penny put in when Jennings glanced down at her.

“That sounds nice. Are you going with them?”

Penny looked shocked.

“I can’t leave when Marianne needs help with baby Catherine!”

The adults were still laughing at her when the boys joined them.

“How is life with a baby in the house?” Anne posed the question with a smile.

“It’s fine,” Thomas said in his kind way.

“A bit noisier,” James added in his usual honest, matter-of-fact way.

The group visited a little longer, hearing some of the details and more impressions from the children. When they said their goodbyes and went in separate directions, Anne noticed that Weston was a bit quiet. She didn’t question him, but if she’d been bold enough, his answer might have surprised her.

Robert Weston was still thinking on Catherine Jennings. And not just Catherine, but babies in general.

Chapter Fifteen

Anne woke slowly—her neck stiff—with no idea where she might be. She put her hand out to push off her pillow and encountered soft fabric over a firm surface. Finding it too difficult to raise her head, she simply tilted it backward and found her husband’s face very close, his eyes looking into hers, as he sat on the carriage seat beside her.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly when she realized she was lying against his chest.

“Don’t be. I slept as well.”

His arm still supporting her, Anne felt too lethargic to move.

“I should move, but I find myself rather drained.”

“You probably need more sleep.”

“Possibly,” she agreed, even as she found the strength to sit up. “But my neck is a bit stiff.”

Weston didn’t answer. His side felt bereft of her presence, and he had the most irresistible urge to draw her back to him.

Trying to clear the webs from her mind, Anne only turned to look at Weston when he reached up and touched her cheek.

“My shirtfront left you with a few creases,” he said after a gentle caress.

“Oh.” Anne’s hand came up as she groaned. “I must be a mess. Are we close to London?”

“Very.”

Anne closed her eyes. “Your mother will take one look at me and wonder what you’ve gone and done.”

“My mother will take one look at you and ask where you’ve been all my life.”

Anne gave him a skeptical glance as she worked to smooth her hair. Weston unashamedly watched her.

“You’re staring, Mr Weston,” Anne said without looking at him. This was the second long day in the carriage, and both had become quite relaxed in one another’s company.

“Is that a problem?”

“It all depends on what you’re thinking.”

His thoughts had suddenly turned rather intimate, wondering if she always looked this good right after she woke up, but he didn’t think now was the time to voice his musings. He didn’t, however, avert his gaze. Anne gave him a direct look, but all he did was smile.

“I believe I’m seeing your incorrigible side again.”

“You might be.”

“Might?” Anne laughed before asking, “How are the creases on my face?”

“Fading quickly.”

“I can only hope you’re telling the truth.”

Weston put on the most innocent face he could muster, which made Anne laugh.

“Will we stay long?” Anne now asked, realizing she didn’t know.

“That depends. If we’re having a good time and not missing Collingbourne too much, we’ll probably stay two weeks. If we want to return before then, we shall do that.”

“Will your mother have plans for us?”

“Most likely not. She tries to keep her own schedule even when I visit, and we can accompany her whenever we like. We might go to dinner one evening, and of course we’ll go shopping.”

Anne’s eyes went immediately to her dress. She was in the midst of adjusting her sleeves and checking her neckline when Weston caught her hand. Anne watched as he held her eyes but lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back.

“You look lovely,” he said softly. “You always look lovely.”

Anne wanted to believe him but feared he was only being kind. Telling herself she was far too concerned with her looks, she simply thanked him and, when he released her hand, sat back for the remainder of the journey.

Berwick

“You’re looking strained again,” Louisa Cavendish said to Lenore Weston, who had wandered to the window yet again. A neighbor and dear friend of Lenore’s, Louisa missed very little.

“It’s only just occurred to me,” Lenore said, turning from the window.

“What has?”

“Robert had no real desire to marry, and now he’s taken a wife. I trust Robert’s judgment, but what if he’s made a horrible mistake? What if she’s all wrong for him? What if she’s a—” Lenore stopped, but her friend would not let her off so easily.

“Another Henrietta?”

Looking defeated, Lenore came and sat across from her friend.

“First of all,” Louisa began before Lenore could say a word, “we know Anne shares our faith, and with what Robert recently learned, we know Henrietta did not. Secondly—”

A knock on the door halted their conversation. Betsy, Lenore’s housekeeper, opened the door enough to announce, “The carriage has arrived, my lady.”

“Thank you, Betsy.”

The door shut, and Louisa stood and began to walk across the room.

“I’ll just slip out the back and see you later.”

“But you never finished what you were saying.”

Louisa stopped and looked at her friend. “I don’t need to. Robert and Anne will be here in a moment, and you’ll see for yourself that your son is exactly the man you and James raised him to be.”

She didn’t wait for Lenore to reply but went on her way, leaving the new mother-in-law on her own. Not a minute passed before the door opened and Robert ushered his bride into the large salon.

“Robert,” his mother said, smiling when she saw how well he looked. “And, Anne, I’m so glad you’re here.”

“It’s so nice to meet you, Mrs Weston.”

“Lenore,” she corrected warmly, even as she went directly to Anne and drew her in for an embrace. There was no missing the way the younger woman trembled.

“Oh, Anne, I was so nervous before you arrived that I asked my neighbor to come and sit with me. She only just left.”

Weston laughed even as Anne admitted her own case of nerves. The women ended up laughing with him.

“Come,” Lenore invited. “Betsy is bringing tea.”

The three settled onto comfortable sofas, Weston and Lenore with a sigh and Anne still with a measure of uncertainty.

“How was the trip?”

“Not as long as usual,” Weston said, his eyes on Anne. “It’s nice to have company.”

Anne smiled at him, and Lenore felt pleasure spiral through her as she witnessed their warmth and comfort with each other.

“And your father, Anne? How is he?”

“Well when I left him.”

“Will he be all right with you gone?”

“The Hursts will check on him, and he usually manages very well on his own.”

“Has he visited you at Brown Manor?”

“I haven’t invited him,” Anne admitted. “He’s not overly fond of carriage rides, and Brown Manor is a long walk from Levens Crossing.”

“Anne, I want you to know that Robert has told me how things haven’t always been easy for you.”

Growing more relaxed by the moment, Anne didn’t try to stop her smile.

“Mr Weston is at times overly sensitive.”

Weston shouted with laughter over this, and although Lenore looked surprised, she laughed as well.

“Someone must tell me the joke I’ve missed.”

“I’m the joke,” Weston filled in. “Every time my poor wife refers to anything from her past, I begin snorting like a bull. She’s told me she’ll never survive unless I stop.”

Lenore looked as though she would comment on this, but the door opened and Betsy and two other maids entered with a splendid tea.

“I didn’t even let you freshen up,” Lenore apologized, “but I thought you must be utterly parched after all those hours in the coach.”

“Thank you, Mother. This is just right.”

“Where did you stay last night?”

Weston answered the question while Anne was busy with her tea, but in an instant she was back in time to the night before.

“Well, it seems we have a large room,” Weston told her as they climbed the stairs at the Newbury Inn, “but only one.”

“All right,” Anne said quietly, not wishing to show the alarm she felt. It had been a good day of travel together—they were growing more comfortable all the time—but sharing a room was a little more intimate than Anne bargained for.

“I’ll just take the settee,” Weston announced when they were upstairs, the door closed and their bags delivered.

“That makes no sense at all,” Anne replied, having to look up to say this to him. “I’ll be much more comfortable there.”

“I’m trying to take care of you, and you won’t let me.”

“I thank you for trying, but on this occasion, I assure you, the settee will be fine.”

Weston looked as though he could argue some more, but Anne smiled at him, and lately that had been his undoing.

They had already eaten, and both were tired and hoping for an early start, so they took turns behind the dressing screen as they readied for bed. By the time Anne emerged, Weston had used pillows and blankets to make the settee most comfortable. It wasn’t a wide piece of furniture, but Anne knew she would do fine.

In the middle of the night, however, when she fell hip first against the floor, she had second thoughts.

“Anne, Anne.” Weston’s arms surrounded her even as he tenderly called her name. “Are you all right?”

“I think so.”

“Come up here.” He lifted her easily and bore her to the bed. “Come and be comfortable on the bed.”

“No, Mr Weston, I’ll be all right.” Anne tried to deny him, even as her hip began to throb, but Weston would have none of it. And in truth, the bed felt wonderful: soft and inviting. Anne’s head sank against the pillow with great ease. She wasn’t even concerned that Weston lay so close. He touched her hair and face, talking quietly to her. She was sleepy but trying to attend.

“Did you hit your head?”

“No, my hip.”

“You’ll have a bruise. Did you hit anything else?”

“I don’t think so.”

Weston smoothed her hair from her face and kissed her brow.

“Go back to sleep.”

“I’ll move to the settee,” she said softly and with little conviction.