The Secret Life of Miss Anna Marsh (6 page)

A
nna paced the main hall floor of Marsh Hill while waiting for Rutherford. Finally she strode to the stables. Thunderer was saddled and waiting. The large gelding sidled up to her.

“You're right. We'll probably meet him on the way.”

She walked him over to the mounting block and climbed up, before she heard the sound of a rider.

“Sorry I'm late,” Rutherford said, as he reined in. “My house is in chaos. Althea was told she could make her come-out in the spring, and Mama just told me we are expecting a guest in less than two weeks, who will also make her bow to the
ton
at the same time.”

Poor Rutherford. “Dear me.” Anna choked back a giggle. “I think I almost feel sorry for you.”

He scowled. “If this keeps up I may go off to my hunting lodge until the Season is under way.”

That would be a very good idea. She was growing much too used to having him around. She urged Thunderer to a walk and started out of the stable yard. “I'm sorry to say, I think I'm going to make your day worse.”

“Nothing you could do could make my day worse,” he said firmly. “The only thing that's got me through it so far is knowing I'd spend time with you,” he said in an honest, matter-of-fact tone.

Anna tried to stop her heart from beating faster. “Rutherford, I don't think you've ever said anything half as nice to me before.”

“Haven't I? I have some making up to do. Let's go.”

Oh, no. She couldn't let herself be taken in by him. He might think he felt something for her, but it wouldn't survive his discovery that she was nothing like he thought she was.

They rode side by side toward the cliffs. Rutherford jumped down and caught her as she slid off her horse. A frisson shot through her, and she stopped breathing for a moment.

“Rutherford, I can't—this feeling, every time you touch me. You must stop.”

“I know. Anna, I . . .”

“No, please don't say what you don't really mean.”

His hands tightened on her waist, causing the fire to burn deeper. He did nothing else, and finally the warmth subsided enough for her to gather her scattered wits.

Anna glanced up and met his gaze. “Rutherford, I need to tell you something. Harry didn't die at Badajoz.”

Rutherford closed his eyes for a moment. No lies, no prevarications. Only the truth for her. “I know. How did you find out?”

Anna leaned back and stared at him. “You know? How?”

He pulled her to him and touched his forehead with hers. He'd seen the look of hope in her eyes. This was going to be like killing Harry all over again. Only, this time, Rutherford had to do it. “Anna, Harry and I both worked for the Home Office. Harry was supposed to be on home duty. We were intelligencer officers. I came back from a mission to be told Harry had volunteered to go to France.”

Rutherford turned her to face the channel. “He'd completed his mission, and the ship he was on went down in a storm during the crossing back to England. By the time I returned, your father had already been notified Harry had died in a regular unit. The lie was to match the tale he'd told all of you when he left.”

Rutherford heaved a sigh and glanced at her. Would she shrink from him now, thinking him a man of no honor? “If anyone would have asked me, I'd have told them to tell you the truth. They didn't, and I was ordered not to say anything.”

Anna shook her head. “But why? Why wouldn't they tell us the truth?”

He smiled grimly. “To save you the shame of knowing you had a spy in your family.”

Anna's lips twisted in disgust. “That's–that's so stupid. As if any of us would care.”

He wrapped his arms around her, welcoming her soft warmth. “I hoped you'd think that way. I wanted to tell you and your father. Then your mother said something once, about intelligence gathering, and I–I didn't know anymore how my news would be received. I was still involved in operations and couldn't take the chance. How did you discover Harry didn't die on the Peninsula?”

Anna leaned back against Rutherford. He relished the feel of her body against his. “Once the unit we thought Harry was in returned, Papa wrote the officer who'd supposedly sent the letter telling us about Badajoz. Papa wanted more information about Harry. You know, Papa has not been the same since we received the notice.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “None of us have.”

Rutherford rubbed her back like he had when she was a small child in need of comfort.

“The officer wrote, telling Papa he'd never heard of Harry and offered to help Papa find Harry's unit. Papa has dozens of letters from soldiers. No one knew Harry.”

“No, they wouldn't have. We worked for a small department in the Home Office.”

Anna glanced up. “You said his ship went down. How do you know he died?”

It was killing Rutherford to tell her all this. “Sweetheart, there were no survivors. No pieces of the ship found were larger than a plank. Harry was sailing from the tip of Brittany into Portsmouth.”

She swayed; Rutherford caught her. Her voice caught on a sob. “Washed into the ocean.”

“Yes. We searched for days, for anything.”

“Please, you have to tell Papa.” Anna turned and tugged on his coat. “He's planning to go to Town next week to try to find the truth.”

He nodded. “I'll talk to him. Anna, are you all right?”

She sniffed, fighting not to give in to the tears. “I'll be fine. It is only—I feel as if I've lost him all over again.”

Rutherford took his handkerchief out and blotted the corners of her eyes. “Do you want to go now or stay for a while longer?”

“Would you think me a coward if I wanted to put off going home?”

“No. We'll tell him when we return.”

Anna and Rutherford walked along the cliffs, the wind whipping their warm cloaks around them. He told her about Harry's role during the war. When she asked about Rutherford's, the only thing he didn't tell her about was his current mission.

“I wish I would have known, Sebastian.” She stopped to face him. “I'm so very proud of you. You took such risks.”

“With Mama, the girls, and my other responsibilities”—he pressed his lips together—“it was the only way I could think of to serve and not be gone for months at a time.”

Anna was quiet for several minutes. “That was important to you . . . serving?”

Rutherford glanced at her. “Yes.”

Her gaze was intent, almost belligerent. “I think service is important as well.”

What did that look mean? He shrugged it off and urged her forward. “I didn't tell you. I ran across Marcus on occasion.”

“Did you? How interesting it must have all been.”

They strolled back to the horses and returned to Marsh Hill shortly before the noon meal.

“Stay for luncheon please,” Anna said. “We can talk to Papa after we eat.”

Another conversation Rutherford was not looking forward to. He nodded. “If you wish.”

Anna smiled. “Yes, and thank you. I feel as if I know my brother better. Why he did what he did.”

Rutherford wanted nothing more than to drag her into his arms and kiss away all her pain. Instead, he followed her into the house and into the family dining room.

“Papa, I've invited Rutherford to dine with us.”

Sir William smiled. “You know you're always welcome here.”

Rutherford bowed. “Thank you, sir. It's a generous offer.”

He, Anna, and Lady Tully made small talk until they'd finished eating. When Sir William stood to leave the room, Rutherford said, “Sir, I'd like to speak with you about Harry.”

Sir William stilled and glanced at Anna.

“Please, Papa. Rutherford has some information I think you'll find interesting.”

“Very well. My study?”

“Yes.” Rutherford glanced over at Lady Tully. “My lady, if you wish to join us?”

She smiled. “Thank you, but no. I think this is a time for the three of you. I'll be here if there is anything you wish to discuss later.”

Rutherford followed Anna and her father into the study and closed the door. Sir William indicated a chair, and Rutherford sat after Anna had taken a place next to her father.

“Sir William, I want to tell you that I'm glad you know Harry didn't die at Badajoz. Though I'm sorry to tell you, he did die, just much closer to home.”

They spent the afternoon talking about Harry and his missions, at least what Rutherford knew of them.

“I still plan to visit Town next week,” Sir William said. “If you'll give me the name of whom I need to see and a letter . . . I would like to see his service record.”

“Yes, sir, I'm happy to do anything I can to help you.” Rutherford had a week to try to talk Anna's father out of going. He didn't want to imagine how upset Jamison would be to have Sir William appear on his doorstep, as it were. “I think it's time for me to leave you. Anna, will you walk with me to the door?”

He searched her face. Fine lines crossed her forehead and settled between her eyes. Her mouth was pulled tight.

She rose. “Yes, of course. Papa, I'll see you later.”

“Yes, my dear.” Sir William held his hand out to Rutherford, who took it. “Thank you.”

Anna and Rutherford walked out a side door. Before she could go farther, he said, “Anna, go rest for a while. You look exhausted.”

She gazed up at him. “Yes, you're right. I do feel so weary.”

Rutherford brought her closer and kissed the top of her head. “Sleep well. I'll see you in the morning.”

The wheels of a carriage crunched on the drive. “You might want to take the back stairs,” he said. “I think you have company.”

Anna's eyes widened and rolled like a horse's. He laughed. The last time she'd done that her mother had lectured her on manners. “Go now, before they're inside.”

Anna turned and went back into the house. Rutherford saw her staring at him out one of the stairwell windows, then walked over to where he could see Percy and his mother enter the house. He waited about five minutes longer before riding out the back way. There was no point in letting Percy and his mother know that Anna, the bane of Rutherford's life, was avoiding them.

At least she wasn't shunning him. After the way she had behaved at Charteries, he'd half expected it. His smug smile didn't last long before he was reminded that he loved her, and she for some reason didn't think they'd suit. How was he to convince her that she was the only woman he wanted to marry, and that what he felt was love and not only lust? If only women wouldn't make life so difficult.

 

Anna reached her bedchamber to find it blessedly empty. She removed her boots, stockings, and habit, carefully draping the former over a chair. She sat on the bed to lie down and stopped to remove her stays. As she slid between the sheets, her mind was in a whirl.
Rutherford and Harry, spies
. Harry lost at sea. How ironic. He'd always been such a strong swimmer and a good sailor. She prayed he hadn't suffered much.

Fresh tears flowed down her cheeks and on to the pillow. She'd been glad Rutherford had told them everything and that he'd been there for her. Ever since she could remember, he'd been a strong, solid presence in her life. Anna had wanted so badly for him to love her. Yet, now that she knew what he really wanted in a wife . . . Why couldn't he just leave her alone? Why was he so difficult?

Someone was talking to her. Lizzy. Anna opened her heavy lids. She must have drifted off to sleep.

“Miss,” Lizzy said, “you need to eat before you go. You've slept clear through dinner. The master said not to wake you, but you've got that shipment tonight.”

Anna rubbed her hands over her face. “Thank you for waking me.”

She walked over to the basin to splash cold water on her face. That was much better. Lizzy dressed her and brought a tray. By the time Anna finished her meal, she was fully awake and ready to go.

When she got to the stable, Thunderer was ready, but Humphrey was not. “Humphrey, what's wrong?”

“It's me chops,” he mumbled as if in pain.

She brought the lantern closer. “Let me see.” His jaw was swollen as large as a small ball of yarn. “Here, open your mouth.” Anna almost roiled at the smell of decay. “You need to go to the apothecary tomorrow, or you'll have even more problems. I'll be fine by myself until you're better.”

Moments later, she quietly left on Thunderer. Once she'd cleared the immediate house area, she gave her horse his head. The air was cold and moist. Anna was thankful she'd dressed warmly. With any luck, Kev would have lit the fire in the old cottage Harry had used, and left to her. Otherwise, she'd have to change in the cold. She rode Thunderer into the stable built behind the cottage. “Here are some oats and water,” she said. “I'll just be a few minutes.”

The room glowed with the flickering of flames from the fireplace, but the only really warm area was right next to it. She quickly stripped off her habit and changed into breeches, shirt, and jacket, grabbing the warm frieze coat as she went back out to the barn where she switched out her sidesaddle for a regular one.

The stand of trees was not far, and it took only a few minutes to reach it. From there she could see everything and hear most of it. After tying her horse up in a wooded copse several yards back, she scrambled down the path to the beach.

Kev strode over to meet her. “Mr. Arnold, sir. We just got the first signal.”