The Rescue (27 page)

“I believe I will freshen up a bit.”

“All right. Do you want to give me a time when we’re leaving?”

Anne thought about it. “Thirty minutes?”

“Fine. I’ll order the coach.”

“Thank you.”

Wishing she had a nice dress for her first trip to town as Mrs Weston, Anne exited to her room to do her best.

“Did I see Mansfield hand you a letter at breakfast?” Weston asked when they were settled in the carriage and on the way to town.

“Yes, he did.”

“From anyone I know?”

“I don’t believe so. It was from Lucy Digby, wishing me well on my marriage.”

“Digby,” Weston tested the name. “I don’t believe I know them.”

“Lucy was a Benwick. Billy Digby used to come and do small jobs for Benwick. The two fell in love. It might not have been Benwick’s first choice for his daughter, and he probably lost business over it, but she’s happy.”

“And the two of you are friends?”

Anne glanced at his face to see what he was thinking, but he looked interested, not condemning.

“We had been friends all along, but we became closer friends once my situation changed. Prior to that, Lucy was protective of me because of my position.”

“But then she relaxed with you,” Weston guessed.

“Yes,” Anne answered as she realized things had altered again. “She had a baby earlier this summer, and I went to help her.” She stopped just short of admitting all her thoughts.

“So she and Billy are parents.”

“Twice. Meg is two and Liz is the baby.”

“Shall we stop and see them today, or will that make someone uncomfortable?”

Anne angled her whole body to see her husband better. Weston watched her, waiting to find out what he’d said to garner this reaction. He was not to find out—at least not without some work. Anne turned back to the front, her eyes forward.

“Anne?”

“Yes?”

“What happened just now?”

“Nothing.”

Weston smiled at her profile. She was really quite lovely, and he was learning that when she didn’t wish to speak of something, her cheeks grew pink.

With a gentle hand he cupped her far cheek and brought her eyes to his.

“What did I say?”

“I don’t know what to do with you!” she blurted, her eyes large and confused.

“
What
did I say?”

“You’re willing to visit Lucy. I didn’t expect that.”

Weston studied her eyes a moment. His hand had dropped away, but Anne was still looking at him.

“To a certain extent we have to be careful, Anne, but there’s no reason to shun those who have shown kindness—especially to you—regardless of their station. If you normally visit Lucy when you’re in Collingbourne, my presence shouldn’t alter that.”

Anne nodded.

“So what do you think? Shall we visit Lucy or not?”

“I don’t know. Unless she’s expecting me, I usually just see how my time goes.”

Weston studied her some more.

“You’re looking worried, and there’s no need.”

“No, I guess there isn’t, but for some reason I am.”

“Well, don’t be on my account. I’m just along to keep track of you. Nothing more.”

Anne didn’t know if this was a comfort or not. She was confused about several things and wasn’t certain how to respond. However, Weston let the matter drop, and in a short time they were in town.

“Are we starting at Benwick’s?”

“Yes. I think most of my list can be covered there.”

“All right, but don’t hesitate to change stores or leave something for next time. If I said anything this morning that makes you think I disapprove of how you shop, I’m sorry. Proceed as you wish.”

Anne looked at him and nodded, still trying to take it in. She might have attempted to express her feelings, but the coach was stopping.

Once inside, Anne began with stationery. She needed to get thank-you letters off for the gifts that had arrived and continued to arrive. It was a lovely confirmation to have friends supporting them, but often her marriage still felt unreal and amazing to Anne. She hoped that if she put her thoughts down on paper in the form of a thank-you note, the union would begin to seem more genuine.

For the moment, however, she forced herself to push all such thoughts from her head and concentrate on her list. After stationery she went directly to fabrics and sewing needs, determined to set her wardrobe to rights. She was very successful. Benwick had every color of thread she needed. But not until she was done did she realize she hadn’t seen her husband in some time. She began a tour of the store and spotted him in the section where Benwick kept larger items: rugs, furniture, and such.

“Did you find something?” Anne asked after she’d approached and stood next to him.

“Yes,” he answered, his eyes still on a large mirror that leaned against the wall. “Do you like this mirror?”

Anne followed his gaze.

“It’s lovely.”

“Good. I want it for your bedroom.”

“My room? You just put a rug in there.”

“Oh, that’s right. What was I thinking? You’ve had your quota of furnishings for the month.”

Anne put a hand to her mouth to keep from laughing, no easy task with Weston’s mischievous eyes now looking down on her.

“I only meant,” she began, but halted, wanting to laugh at his innocent expression.

“You only meant what?”

“My room is fine,” she said at last, not able to come up with any other retort.

“Your room is very bare, and we’re going to rectify that. Now, if you don’t care for the mirror, you must say so, but if you like it, it would do quite well on the wall across from your bed.”

Anne stared off for a moment and then met her husband’s gaze.

“That wall is rather bare, isn’t it?”

Weston smiled at her.

“What did I say?” Anne asked when she witnessed his look.

Weston didn’t answer. He gave her hand a quick squeeze and said he would speak to Benwick about the mirror.

“How does tea sound?” Weston offered when they were back in the carriage.

“It sounds wonderful,” Anne said before remembering.

“Gray’s?”

“All right.” Her voice had become quiet, but Weston didn’t notice.

“How much more shopping do you have?”

“Not much. In fact, if you’d rather have tea at Brown Manor, I can be done now.”

“No, I’m looking forward to Gray’s.” Weston looked at Anne the moment he said this and asked, “Unless you’d rather not.”

“No, it’s all right.”

Weston needed no other information. The strain in his wife’s face told the whole story. Nevertheless, he was not going to be put off by a few gossiping attendants in the tearoom. Anne was Mrs Weston now, and they would need to remember that.

They were seated at a comfortable table not ten minutes later, a solicitous young woman hovering nearby for their order. Anne was very tense, but Weston did the honors: tea, sandwiches, and cakes. The table was quiet while they waited, but almost as soon as the tea arrived, conversation began.

“We will see how this goes today, Anne. If you are not treated with respect, we will not return.”

“It seems all right so far.”

“Better than the last time for you?”

“Yes.”

Weston squeezed her hand and changed the subject.

“Do you think we’ll visit Lucy today?” Weston asked.

“I don’t know if today would be the best day.”

Weston knew he would feel better after tea, but before the sandwiches and cakes arrived he realized he was a bit tired.

“Would it bother you if we made it another time?”

“Not at all.”

“I find I’m a little tired just now, and that’s not the way I want to first meet your friends.”

Anne was on the verge of telling Weston how kind that was when she remembered that he had been nothing but kind from nearly the moment they’d met.

“I am looking forward to meeting your mother,” Anne said instead.

“Where did that come from?”

“I
do
want to meet the woman who raised you.”

Weston’s eyes twinkled.

“Maybe I developed my charm after I left my mother’s care.”

The waitress took that moment to come with their food, and Anne had to put her napkin to her mouth to keep from laughing.

“I think you might be incorrigible,” she teased when they were alone.

“I haven’t been called that since I was a child.”

“What had you done?”

“Answered back, probably. My tongue got me into the most trouble as a child.”

“What would your mother do?”

“My father would handle me most of the time.”

Anne looked surprised.

“I was under the impression he died when you were quite young.”

“I was 15, halfway to 16.”

“A young man. How painful for you.”

“It was. We were very tightly knit. My mother’s attempts to give me siblings all ended in heartache, so the three of us were rather close.”

“And what of today? Are you as close to your mother?”

“Yes, very. She even came to visit so she could see you.”

This news stopped Anne.

“I don’t remember meeting her.”

“You didn’t. I pointed you out from across the church.”

The relief on Anne’s face was unmistakable.

“Why is that a comfort?”

“I’m just glad she knows what I look like.”

“Why is that?”

Anne picked at her scone, wishing she’d kept silent. Weston touched her hand, his fingers light and gentle. Anne met his eyes.

“You can tell me.”

“I’m only glad to know that she’s seen me. When we meet, she won’t be expecting me to be fancy or beautiful.”

“I don’t care for fancy women, and who told you you’re not beautiful?”

Anne could only stare at him. At last she admitted, “I keep wanting to feel sorry for you, since you felt pressured to marry me, but it’s not working.”

Weston smiled into her eyes.

“No one forced me to do anything.”

Anne couldn’t take her eyes from his, and Weston didn’t try. The two sat staring at each other for several moments.

“Well, now.” A distinct voice came from behind them as footsteps approached their table. “I’d heard that this marriage was one of convenience, but you two seem quite taken with one another.”

His eyes sending a message to Anne, Weston forced a smile to his face, stood, and turned.

“Hello, Mrs Musgrove.”

“Mr Weston,” she intoned regally before turning her gaze to Anne, who had also come to her feet.

“Well, Anne,” she said grudgingly, “you’re looking well.”

“Thank you, Mrs Musgrove. Are you shopping today?”

“Yes, I’m going to Bath this winter and need a new wardrobe. Will you be in Bath this winter, Mr Weston?”

“Mrs Weston and I have no firm plans at this time.”

His vague answer and reserved tone finally got through to the older woman. She had been looking Anne over as though she were a piece of meat and now met Weston’s solemn gaze.

Opinionated as ever, Mrs Musgrove declared, “Well, you don’t know what you’ll be missing!” This said, she turned and went on her way.

The Westons bid her good day, but she didn’t turn or acknowledge them. It was with a certain amount of relief that they took their seats and went back to tea.

“Has she always been like that?”

“I’m afraid so. She owns the largest estate in the area and feels we ought to pay her a certain amount of homage.”

“No family?”

“Only a daughter, and she doesn’t get out much.”

“Will her daughter accompany her to Bath, do you think?”

“I imagine. She rather does anything she’s told.”

Weston’s look became thoughtful as he reached for his tea. Anne thought she saw compassion in his gaze and found herself thankful for his tender heart.

They finished their tea in a leisurely manner—everyone at Gray’s making them most welcome—and with Weston’s urging, Anne made two more stops. By the time they arrived back at Brown Manor, Anne was a little short on time to sew, but by bedtime she had repaired a dress for Sunday morning that she hadn’t been able to wear in months.