The Secret Life of Miss Anna Marsh (18 page)

“H
arry,” Emma said, “a letter from my godmama arrived last night. She's arriving today.”

Harry's throat tightened. “That's wonderful.” Wonderful was not what he felt. He tried to keep his face still as she searched it. He knew last evening when they dined with his friends he was falling in love with her. Yet, his guilt over his dead wife and his uncertainty about himself kept him silent. “Did she give you an idea of when?”

“Late. She doesn't like traveling on Sunday, but there is a family matter to which she needs to attend. I hope I'm not a burden.”

Harry rose from the table. “How could you be anything but a joy?”

Her troubled heart was reflected in her eyes. He wished he could reassure her. “When you have an address, send word here, to the hotel. I'll do the same.”

Not knowing what the circumstances were with her godmother, or if she'd change her mind after he left, Harry didn't want to press his address on her. He was pleased when the tension left her lovely face.

“Yes, I'll do that.”

He took her hands. “Emma, I do want you to write. Though it may take a while to sort out my life.”

She glanced away. “Mrs. Wickham and I are attending the service at St. George's church. She is all a-flutter to show it to me.”

“I'll escort you, if you'd like.”

Her smile was back, but he thought it was a little forced. He almost couldn't bear to leave her.

“Thank you. I'd enjoy your company.”

Harry saw her eyes moisten. His voice strangled. “Don't cry, please.”

He wanted to take her in his arms, to follow her to where she'd be living, anything but let her go.

Emma blinked back the tears. “No, I won't. Harry, I'll wait to hear from you.”

Mrs. Wickham entered full of cheer. Emma turned her back to the door and walked over to the window as Harry turned to greet her companion.

“Mr. Marsh, has Miss Spencer-Jones told you she'll leave on Monday? Oh, but of course she has. I've written my sister to tell her I shall quit London on the same day. When do you depart?”

“I'll go after church services and dinner.” He'd need to send a message to Arch about his change of plans.

“Oh, my, so soon.” Mrs. Wickham looked disheartened. “Well, perhaps we will see you when the Season begins. My sister is bringing out her eldest daughter.”

Harry smiled amiably. “I shall look forward to it. I'm sorry, but I must go. My valet needs to speak with me.”

Mrs. Wickham curtseyed and smiled at him. “So fortunate, Mr. Marsh, that you discovered you are a gentleman of means.”

“Yes, indeed,” Harry replied. “Miss Spencer-Jones?”

“I'll walk you to the door,” Emma said. “I am reliably informed we have an hour before the service at St George's begins.”

“I shall come for you.” He took her hand and placed a lingering kiss on it.

She gazed up at him. “I shall wait.”

Harry bowed and left her standing at the door, a tense smile on her face. At twenty before the hour, he thought of going to her parlor, but decided against it. If the opportunity presented itself, Harry was sure he'd not be able to resist kissing her. That wouldn't be fair to her, not until he knew himself better and knew what he could offer. Instead, he sent a message to her to meet him in the hotel lobby.

Her face lit when she saw him. He returned her smile, and then Mrs. Wickham appeared. They walked the few blocks to St George's. Though he did not see many people he knew, there were some. He'd need to go home quickly.

“That was a very good sermon, I thought,” Mrs. Wickham said as they made their way back to the hotel after the service.

Harry paid little attention to her. The back of his neck prickled, and he searched for the reason. Reynolds lurked near a corner. “Emma, keep your eyes ahead. Reynolds is here.”

“Oh, no. I'd hoped he'd cease following me.”

“Apparently not. I'll stay as long as I can. You must remain inside after I leave.”

She nodded. “Yes, but I have some things I need to collect in the morning.”

“Send a messenger. I'll arrange for extra outriders to accompany you to your godmother's house. You can tell her your father required them.”

“I will, Harry. Thank you.”

“One more thing. I'll leave from the alley behind the hotel. That way, he'll think I'm still here.”

Emma's gaze met his. He hated to leave her, but he had to go home before the news that he wasn't dead preceded his arrival. He'd seen too many people now. “I know you are well able to take care of yourself, but please, for my sake, because I cannot be here with you, take care.”

She pressed her lips together and nodded. “I will.”

He had to believe they'd meet again. He needed to see her. Harry tightened his grip on her hand. “Thank you. I'll come to you as soon as I'm able.”

“I know you will.” She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them, they brimmed with tears. “Harry, I'll miss you.”

It was all he could do not to drag her into his arms. Reaching out, he caressed her cheek with one finger. “I'll miss you as well.”

That afternoon, Emma went with him to the back door of the hotel. He held her hand until he was forced to release it.

Farley gave Harry directions to his home. They were different than the directions to the cottage he remembered.

“Farley, there is someplace I need to stop first. Go to Marsh Hill, and wait until I come.”

“We'll be at the gate,” Farley said.

“That will do.” Harry started his horses. Once he reached the first of the large posting houses, he'd see if his father still stationed his cattle on the road.

After church and Sunday dinner with his family, Sebastian and Anna each got picnic baskets from their cooks and drove to the cottage. She'd told her father she planned to spend the rest of the day and evening with her betrothed. Papa would have assumed she meant at the Priory.

Sebastian's lips touched hers, and she responded eagerly. Anna had brought the book and insisted they try the positions one by one. Each time they made love, he asked if she was all right, and she assured him she was. She might not be able to walk on the morrow, but right now, she was wonderful. Everything was what she'd hoped it would be.

Anna lay beneath him, her skin dewed. His large body half covered her, and his breath came in short pants. She writhed and cried out as she reached for the sun to engulf her. She held him tightly. Just a few short weeks ago, the idea that she'd be like this with him had never entered her mind. She laughed at her naivety. She hadn't even known what the pictures in the book meant. A burble of laughter rose within her.

“What are you giggling about?” He shifted her. The hair of his chest rubbed tantalizingly against her nipples.

“Did you say something?” How she loved his chest.

“Anna, where are you?” he asked good-naturedly.

She hadn't seen him laugh and smile this much in years.

“I'm here with you in a way I never knew existed before,” she said, before drifting into a satisfied sleep.

When she awoke, it was dark. The shutters were closed, and the cottage warm. Sebastian kissed her and rose, putting more wood on the fire.

“Are you sore yet?” he asked, with concern.

Anna moved, and muscles she hadn't known she possessed ached. “Maybe.”

“Eat.”

Anna opened her mouth, and he gently placed a morsel of cheese between her lips. She chewed, savoring the taste. “Once we're married, how often will we be able to be alone like this?”

“We'll have to make time,” Sebastian said. “Here, drink some wine.”

She pushed herself up on to the pillows. “I could stay here forever.”

He chuckled deeply. “I love you more than I thought I could love another being. You were right to make me wait.”

She smiled at him and licked the corner of his lips. “I love you. You were right not to marry me when I was seventeen. What time is it?”

“Past eight o'clock.” Rutherford suddenly lifted his head and canted it toward the door. “Did you hear that?”

A carriage. “Yes.” Anna sat up. “Who would be out here at this time of night? You don't think it's Percy, do you?”

“Not even he's that stupid.”

What if it was the London gent? “What do you want to do?”

“With the fireplace going, we can't very well pretend we're not here. Get dressed.”

Anna took her chemise and stays from him. Thank goodness stays were one of the front-lacing ones. She donned her gown. It seemed so long since she'd been dressed. Being with him naked seemed the most natural thing in the world.

Rutherford buttoned her gown before going to the door. Anna hurried to stand beside him when he opened the door. A large man got down from a curricle.

Anna's heart stopped.
Harry?
It couldn't be.
But it was
. Tears of joy sprang to her eyes. “
Harry, oh, Harry! Thank God!
”

Heedless of her bare feet, she ran out the door and flung herself at him. Her brother enveloped her in arms as strong as Sebastian's, but completely different. “Harry. Where have you been? We—we all thought you were dead. Sebastian, come look, it's Harry.”

Sebastian walked forward and clasped her brother's shoulder. His voice was gruff. “Thank God. Thank God. You're alive.”

Rutherford and Anna.
At the cottage?
A red fog came over Harry. There was only one thing to do with a woman at the cottage. He put her aside and roared,
“Anna, stay there!”

He knocked Rutherford's arm off his shoulder. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Not waiting for an answer, Harry aimed his fist at his former friend's jaw. Rutherford ducked. The coward didn't even try to hit him back. “You'll meet me for this, you rogue.”

Anna screamed and grabbed Harry's arm. He tried to shake her off as he went after Rutherford again. “I'll deal with you later,” he shouted and addressed Rutherford. “You, fight like a man.”

Harry lunged at Rutherford.

Anna yelled something.

Rutherford's face flushed, and he brought up his fists.

She let go of Harry and ran around to step in front of Rutherford. “
Harry, Sebastian, stop right now!
Harry, listen to me. Sebastian and I are getting married.”

Rutherford tried to move her aside, but she turned on him. “Don't you dare hit him, and no one is meeting anyone.” Her chest heaved as she narrowed her eyes at both of them. “Calm down, both of you.”

“Anna, get away from him,” Harry growled.

“No. I will not have my brother and my
affianced husband
fighting.”

Harry stepped back, feeling like he'd been doused with cold water. “Husband?”

“
Affianced
husband. The banns were read today. We will marry in two weeks.”

He glanced at Rutherford. “Is she telling the truth?”

Anna scowled. “Of course I am.”

“Yes, she's telling the truth. I'd marry her sooner if she'd let me.”

Harry rubbed his forehead. He'd be damned if he was going to apologize. His body trembled, but the rush of anger was starting to fade.

Anna grabbed his hand, tugging. “Come inside. We have food and wine. You must be hungry.”

He allowed her to drag him into the room and sat in the chair she pulled out facing the fireplace. Harry dropped his now throbbing head in his hands. Her fingers squeezed his shoulder.

“Harry, where have you been?”

He lowered his hands and gazed at her. Huntley was right. The picture didn't do her justice. Anna's cheeks were still flushed, and there was a mulish cast to her chin. The gaze that searched his face had a maturity that hadn't been there before. She'd grown up, and he'd missed it. His heart clenched hard.

Anna studied him for a few moments. “Harry?”

“I lost my memory. I'm just now getting it back.”

Anna glanced at Sebastian. “Tea. The water is hot.”

He nodded.

“Well, you obviously remember me.”

“You were one of my first memories, but I didn't know until recently you were my sister.” He stopped, unable to continue.

She knelt beside him. “What do you remember? Start from the beginning.”

He told them about the ship, about his wife and baby. Tears started in his eyes.

Anna blinked back her own tears and grabbed his hand. “Go on.”

“It was months after her death when I finally remembered my last name and even longer before I knew where I lived. My father-in-law said I could stay there, but encouraged me to find my life. And—and here I am.”

Anna didn't wipe the tears streaming down her cheeks.

“I ran into Huntley in London. He helped me. My clothes were not quite up to snuff. Farley came back. Devil knew me right away. I came from London as quickly as I could.”

Sebastian placed a cup in front of Harry. “Your father discovered you hadn't died at Badajoz. The Home Office had been told you went down in a shipwreck. Therefore, I told your father and Anna. Harry, you are the only one to have survived.”

Harry shook his head. “I don't understand Badajoz.”

“Do you remember your job?” Rutherford asked.

“No.”

“You and I are Intelligencer intelligence Officers for the Home Office,” Sebastian said. “We wanted to do something to help the war cause, but neither of us could leave England for any length of time due to our responsibilities.”

Sebastian pushed the cup into Harry's hands. “You took a job in France whilst I was away. It was only to have been for six months. You hadn't told your family exactly where you'd gone. They just knew it was something for the government, so Jamison decided to let it out that you'd died at Badajoz. The time periods matched.”

“Jamison?” Anna asked.

Sebastian frowned. “Yes, why?”

Anna poured a cup of tea. “That's the name of my contact.”

“Your contact?” He stared at her. “What do you mean?”

She shrugged. “I didn't tell you because it was supposed to be a secret.”

Sebastian closed his eyes. “Would you like to tell me about it now?”

She looked from Harry's curious gaze to Rutherford's not quite patient one. “Well,” she said, “when Harry left me in charge of the smuggling gang . . .” When Harry jumped, Anna stopped. He didn't say anything so she went on. “I was to report any problems I couldn't handle to this Lord Jamison. Harry gave me the codes.”

Sebastian fixed Harry with a gimlet eye. “Harry Marsh, you are the most irresponsible person I know, to have put a nineteen-year-old in charge of a smuggling gang.”

Harry rubbed a hand over his face.

“You weren't irresponsible,” Anna declared. “You trained me. You knew I could do it. Marshes are invincible.”

He glanced at her. “Marshes are invincible. I taught you that.”

“Yes.” Anna hurried back to him. “Do you remember?”

Harry took a sip of the tea. It was too sweet. Was it made for shock or because he used to drink it that way? He regarded Anna. “I remember a young child sitting on my lap—you. Then I remember you, older. We were in a garden.”

She nodded her head. “Yes, I was seventeen. Mama decided I was old enough to come out. I was scared. It's what you said to me before I left.”

“Huntley said I wouldn't let anyone near you,” Harry mused.

Anna grinned ruefully. “No, not until we had it out.”

He glanced at the rumpled bed, then at Rutherford, and frowned.

“No, I didn't start courting Anna until later. I was helping you keep the wolves at bay,” he assured Harry.

Harry's voice tensed. “When did all this begin?”

“We decided to marry just recently. The banns were read today,” Anna reminded him. “Harry, he . . . we didn't . . . Sebastian wouldn't . . . not until I agreed to marry him. We've loved each other for a long time. There were just problems we needed to work out.”

Anna turned her gaze to Rutherford and back to Harry. “Let us take you home. Papa will want to see you.”

She started to laugh, and Harry thought she was going to have vapors.

“Sebastian, oh dear, I'm not nearly as eligible as you thought, and you won't get the cottage now that Harry has returned.”

Her betrothed smiled. “Your wealth never mattered to me.”

Harry watched as his friend wrapped his arms around Anna.

“You are every bit as eligible, and now I have my best friend back.” Rutherford stopped. “Sweetheart, you need to put your hair up before we go.”

“I suppose it wouldn't do for anyone to suspect.”

Rutherford raised a brow. “I'd get my wedding faster.”

Harry frowned. Rutherford was right. “An excellent idea. In fact, you should marry as soon as possible.”

Anna searched for the pins and deftly wound her hair into a knot. “No.”

“What do you mean no?” Harry scowled.

“Don't snarl at me. We cannot marry until Mama is here.”

He closed his eyes for a moment. “Huntley said she and Papa had been having problems. She's not in London. Where else would she be but here?”

Anna put on her hat. “At a house party.”

Harry took a large drink of tea. “Maybe you'd better tell me what's going on before we go.”

Anna stared at him for a few moments. “Mama wouldn't believe you were dead and insisted on keeping everything as it was. She wouldn't even allow me to drive your curricle because you hadn't given me permission before you left. I think she just became overprotective.”

Harry shook his head, trying to make sense of what she'd said. “That wasn't very fair. You're a devilish fine whip.”

Anna smiled gently. “Let me finish. Papa became obsessed with your death. He wrote everyone he could think of your death. Mama is rarely here these days, and Papa won't go to London. Though he's ready to go to the Home Office and demand the truth, even though Sebastian already told Papa everything he knew.”