The Secret Life of Miss Anna Marsh (15 page)

H
arry, Huntley, and Featherton stood before the open doors of Harry's wardrobe. They'd already opened the drawers and glanced through them. Featherton cast a knowledgeable eye over the clothes. “I'll tell you what. I'll take out everything useful and place it on the bed. If your valet comes back, he can have another look. The important thing is you have a good number of shirts, cravats, breeches, and pantaloons.”

They spent the next hour discussing, discarding, and keeping. By the time they were done, Harry had a large stack on the bed and an even larger pile on the floor.

He found his jewelry box and dumped the contents on a desk. Harry picked up a gold signet ring. “Is this mine?”

Huntley spread the items apart. “Yes, you used to wear it on your ring finger. See here, a watch.”

Harry picked it up and opened it. “A picture.”

Huntley laughed. “I told you, you were close to your sister. Anna probably gave it to you.”

It was the girl from his dreams. “Is this a good likeness?”

Huntley studied it more closely. “I don't think so. It doesn't capture her. It's a pretty girl, but doesn't show the spark of life she has. She's older now. I'm sure it was done when she came out.”

They rummaged through more of Harry's things, finding quizzing glasses, fobs, and a couple of snuff boxes. “I'll keep the watch and the ring with me. The rest, I'll go through when I know what it is.”

There was a sharp knock on the door before it opened. He turned and immediately recognized the man standing just inside the room. “Farley.”

“Mr. Marsh,” Farley bowed. “May I express my delight at seeing you once again among the living?”

Harry shook himself and smiled widely. “Farley, how glad I am to see you. Did Minton send for you? Yes, of course he did. You'll know about my little problem, then.”

Harry flushed when Farley grimaced.

“I understand you are staying at Grillon's. I will arrange to have anything suitable sent over. We must have our hair cut as well. In the meantime, allow me to dress you in something more befitting your station.”

Huntley took Featherton's arm. “Harry, we'll meet you downstairs. I give you fair warning, I plan to try to convince your cook to rule over my kitchens.”

Harry gave a bark of laughter. “Good luck with that. I'll be down shortly.” Once they'd gone, he turned his attention to Farley. “What can I wear and what can I not?”

Farley took out a pair of knit pantaloons. “These are still in fashion. Let's see how much you've changed.”

Harry stripped off his clothes, donning the items his valet handed him. When Farley handed Harry a cravat, he deftly wound the long, two-foot-wide length of linen around his neck and arranged it.

“Perfect.” Farley held a coat and helped Harry into it. “A little tight. You've grown broader in the shoulders. If you'll just take a seat, I'll get your boots.”

His valet dove into the wardrobe and emerged with a dusty but serviceable pair of Hessians. Farley cleaned them and brought them to a high shine. Once on Harry's feet, the boots fit perfectly. Harry studied himself in the mirror. Other than his hair being too long,
this
was what he was supposed to look like. “Thank you, Farley. If you decide to come back to me . . .”

“Mr. Marsh, I shall meet you at Grillon's this afternoon.”

Harry's lips tilted up. “I am dining with a lady and her companion this evening.”

“You will be presentable, sir.”

Harry's throat tightened with emotion. “Thank you.”

Farley bowed, and Harry went downstairs, feeling much more the thing. He grinned at Huntley's look of amazement when he entered the room. “Amazing what a good valet can do.”

“Harry, you look like yourself again.”

“I think so. Walk with me to Grillon's. I wouldn't want to cut anyone I should know.”

Huntley nodded. “Would you like to go to Brook's this evening?”

“Thank you, but I have dinner plans, and I don't want word to get back to my parents before I arrive. Good Lord, I can't forget horses. I need to see what's here.”

They left out the back gate to the mews. Harry entered the stable and perused the horses slowly, not yet seeing what he wanted.

Suddenly, a horse started kicking his stable.

“Here ye devil, stop! He's dead I tell ye,” a man yelled. “Why will ye not believe it? You're a damn stubborn horse. Wi not a bit of sense in ye.”

Devil, a black with white socks.
“Devil,”
Harry called.

“Don't know who ye are, or what you're about, but stop. The wee laddy's been out o'his head the past week. The master should a sold him.”

Harry rushed forward and grabbed the large black gelding before he could trample the stall. The horse snorted and nuzzled him. “Hey, watch my rig, it's the best I've had in years. You're a devil, you know that.”

The horse nodded and quieted. Harry turned to the stable master. “You're Arch, aren't you?”

The older man stared at him. Harry supposed a great deal of that would occur.

“Mr. Harry? Yer supposed to be dead.”

“So I understand.” He grinned. “I'm sorry to inconvenience you, but I need to go to Kent, and I've been sitting a horse for the past week. Can you help me?”

Arch seemed glad to be allowed to carry on as usual.

“We've got your curricle and your roans. No one's used the carriage since ye left. Miss Anna wanted to drive it, but her ladyship wouldn't ever let the pur lassie.”

Harry raised a brow in inquiry.

“Got real protective over Miss Anna after you died.”

“I take it that's been a bone between them?”

“Aye, it has. You know what Miss Anna is.”

Harry wasn't sure whether he did or not. His sister seemed to be a termagant. “I'll need a coach for Farley and my baggage as well. You can send Devil with the baggage coach. I've got a hack stabled at the hotel. Please fetch it and bring it here.”

“Aye, sir, I'll get it all ready for ye. When will ye be leavin'?”

“Early morning the day after tomorrow. Can you bring it all to Grillon's?”

“Aye, Mr. Harry. I'll do that, and I'd like to say welcome back.”

“Thank you, Arch. It's good to be back.” Harry rejoined Huntley and Featherton.

So much had happened today, he really needed to be alone for a while, and he wanted to speak with Emma. “My horses and carriages are still here. Even Devil.”

Huntley opened his mouth to speak and hesitated.

“Go on,” Harry said.

“I don't wish to add to your troubles, but you'll hear about it in any event. Your death caused a rift between your parents. Your mother refused to get rid of anything of yours. Your father gave up his seat in Parliament and buried himself in Kent.”

Harry studied his friend's face. “My sister?”

“She goes between the two. I don't think she lets anyone know how she feels.” Huntley grinned. “She's like you, Harry, only better-looking.”

Harry wished he knew what that meant, but was afraid to ask.

He invited Huntley and Featherton to Grillon's for dinner the following evening. On their way to the hotel, Harry saw a few people who knew him and was happy to have recognized their faces, even if he'd forgotten their names. Once he said farewell to his friends, Harry took the stairs two at a time to the first floor.

When he knocked, Emma opened the door and gasped. “Harry?”

He smiled broadly as he walked into the room. “Weston remembered me, and I ran into an old friend at Hoby's. . . .” He felt like a child eager to tell his news and related everything he'd learned.

Emma took his hand in her much smaller one. “Harry, this is wonderful. I'm sorry about your parents, but maybe, with your return, they can work it out. I look forward to meeting your sister. I think I'd like her.”

He smiled ruefully. “I'd been thinking she sounds a little hot at hand. Huntley told me she was like me. Now I don't know what to think.”

Emma laughed musically. “You'll meet her soon enough. How old is she?”

“I forgot to ask. She must be close to her majority.”

Emma's eyes glowed softly with understanding. He had to get his memory back soon. That was the only way he could suggest courting her.

A smile tugged at Emma's lips. “Harry, how well you look, dressed like a gentleman.”

He smacked his head with his hand. “I'll have to go back down and arrange a room for Farley, my valet.”

She tugged the bell pull. “How fortunate it was that he didn't like his new position.”

“I agree. I recognized him straight away.” Harry led her to the table that had already been set for luncheon. “Tell me how your shopping went.”

“Oh, Madame Lisette is a wonder. She's having some gowns sent round today, and I have another fitting tomorrow. Harry, I've bought so many gloves, hats, and other things, I almost feel decadent. We don't have the same selection in Kingston.” She speared a piece of chicken. “I've been assured I'll use them all. I sent a note to my godmama this morning. I don't know how far away from London she lives.”

“What is her direction?”

“Well, that's just it. The only address I have is her London house. I was told that if she was not still in Town, the note would be forwarded to her.”

“I planned to depart in two days. If you wish, I shall remain until your godmother arrives.”

She gazed at him, her eyes a bit sad. “As much as I enjoy your company, I don't wish to hold you up. You are remembering so many more things.” She covered his hand with hers. “It's important you go home.”

Even though he'd been saying the same thing, he was disappointed to have it repeated back to him. “I've invited two friends to dine with us tomorrow evening. I hope you don't mind.”

Emma smiled softly. “No, how could I? I'm happy to meet your friends.”

They'd almost finished eating when he asked, “Where is Mrs. Wickham?”

She grinned. “Shopping fagged her. She'll join us at dinner.”

A knock sounded on the open door. “Come in.”

One of the hotel managers entered. “Miss Spencer-Jones, you called?”

“Yes. Mr. Marsh's valet is joining him, and he'll need a chamber.”

The man bowed. “Of course. I will arrange it immediately.”

After he'd left, Harry grinned. “Thank you.”

“It was the least I could do.”

Harry wanted to take her in his arms. He took her hands instead. “I should go now. I'll see you this evening.”

Emma nodded. “I'll see you then.”

Farley arrived that afternoon with the hairdresser and Harry's trunks, which had been found after a search of the attic.

Once Harry's hair had been cut into a more fashionable style, Farley stood back, pleased. “I must say, sir, I am glad to be back.”

“Yes, Farley, as am I.” Harry couldn't wait for Emma's reaction.

 

Emma passed a hand over her eyes. She was so happy for Harry, yet wondered if his newfound knowledge would be the very thing that separated them. He was such a good man, kind, generous. She always had a feeling she was protected when he was near.

But more than that, he had a good sense of humor and cared deeply about his family. Emma was sure he'd have his pick of the
ton's
ladies. Women who were a part of his world—not an interloper seeking entrance.

She was falling in love with him. Why did it have to happen now? With a man who didn't even know himself yet? Maybe it was good he'd leave before she did. It would give her time to start forgetting him.