Hidden Affections (31 page)

Graham stopped at the post office on the way home. Rather than take the risk of seeing anyone she knew, especially Harrison, she waited in the coach while he went inside to see if there was a letter from Melanie for Irene. He had only been gone for a few moments when there was a knock at the coach door before it swung open.

Startled, she clapped her hand to her heart. “Philip!”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I was just posting a letter to my sister in Boston when I ran into Graham, so I thought I’d keep you company while you’re waiting for him,” he offered and climbed aboard, bringing a burst of cold wind with him.

He sat down across from her and quickly shut the door. “Forgive me if I’m being too bold, but I need to talk to you. I gave up trying to talk to my cousin. He’s as prickly as a cactus and twice as secretive. You haven’t been back to the Refuge since last week, and in all truth, I was prepared to ride out to Graymoor Gardens tomorrow to see if you were all right. I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you, and it’s not my intention to interfere—unless you think it might help.”

She had to struggle, but she managed to hold back the tears that welled up. “I’m sorry. I . . . I really can’t talk to you about it. You should speak to Harrison, but please don’t push him for answers now. I’m sure he’ll explain everything to you . . . when he’s ready.”

“Are you certain there’s nothing I can do?”

When she nodded, he let out a long sigh. “I love my cousin like a brother, but sometimes he can be such a stupid fool,” he grumbled. Then he gazed at her with great tenderness. “I’m sorry. I was hoping I could help, but I’ll do as you ask and hold my counsel. For now.”

Although she did not dare confide in him, she was relieved that he had agreed not to speak to Harrison. She did, however, take advantage of this unexpected opportunity to speak to him privately before she left. “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this before, but I’m very grateful to you for making me feel so welcome here and for helping me to start volunteering at the Refuge.”

He smiled and waved away her words. “There’s no thanks necessary. You’re family. We take care of one another. Despite my impatience with my cousin, I’m certain he isn’t foolish enough to let whatever argument you two have had last much longer.”

Unable to tell him this could very well be the last time they saw each other or that she would not be a member of his family for much longer, she was relieved when Graham returned to inform her that there was no letter waiting for Irene.

Philip took the driver’s return as a signal for him to leave, and he disembarked. Before he closed the door, however, he offered her a smile. “You know where to find me if you need anything. Anything at all.”

She smiled. “I do. Thank you,” she said, managing to hold back her tears until he closed the door. Once they started to fall, she could not stop them, and she finally gave up trying and cried most of the way back to Graymoor Gardens.

By the time the coach drove up the curved driveway in front of the house, her tears were spent and her cheeks were dry, but her eyes felt thick and scratchy, and she was surprised by how drained and exhausted she felt. To be fair to herself, coming face-to-face with the prospect of losing her friendship with both Irene and Philip in the same day had been hard, and she prayed they would be true to their word and let her leave without confronting Harrison.

She disembarked as soon as the coach stopped and hurried into the house, praying she could get back to her room and put a cold compress on her face before anyone saw her. Her heart was racing as she rushed up the staircase. When she finally reached the safety of her room, she ran inside, shut the door, and closed her eyes as she leaned back against it.

“I was beginning to wonder if you were coming back.”

Startled, she opened her eyes. Harrison stood in front of the fireplace, and there were a number of papers and envelopes sitting on the serving table. But instead of the two chairs where they usually sat together, there was only one.

“Please sit down,” he said. “We need to talk about what we must do, now that I’m able to tell you we’re legally divorced.”

Harrison watched Annabelle come toward him as if she were walking to the gallows and he was her executioner.

He had been angry and deeply disappointed in her for not telling him about her previous marriage and divorce before he learned it from his lawyer. Yet Annabelle had defused that anger and eased his disappointment by being more worried about the consequences he would face as a result of marrying a divorced woman than worrying about being twice divorced herself.

He had been twice as angry to learn of Bradley’s blackmail attempt and wanted nothing less than the man’s destruction, but again, she had tamed his anger by expressing concern for Bradley’s wife and young son, who could be hurt by anything he chose to do to punish the scoundrel.

If he thought being apart from her for four days would make it easier to face her now, however, he was proved wrong again the moment she entered the room.

His heart lurched and his arms ached for want of holding her, and the closer she got to him as she crossed the room, the more he knew it might take a lifetime to forget this beautiful, amazingly gentle and selfless woman. He did not know why he had not told her four days ago that their marriage was over, but he embraced the pain of saying good-bye to her now as the only real choice he had. Not if he had any hope of keeping even more heartache at bay as his parents and brother had suffered.

When she sat down on the edge of her seat, he noted her red-streaked eyes and drew in a deep breath. Instead of worrying about whether or not Bradley was responsible for her obvious distress, he asked her directly. “You didn’t encounter Bradley while you were in the city, did you?”

She kept her gaze focused on the documents sitting on the serving table and shook her head. “No, I only went to the Refuge to say good-bye to everyone, and we both know it’s highly unlikely he would show up there,” she replied. “Have you decided what to do about his threat? Since you’ve gotten word that we’re now divorced, I wonder if you have to do anything at all.”

Satisfied that Bradley was not the reason she had been crying, he took a step away from the fire, which was making him uncomfortably warm, but remained well behind the serving table to keep his distance from her, too. “I still have until the deadline next week to decide what to do about his threat, but I can’t simply ignore it any more than I can tell Bradley outright that I won’t be paying him a single coin because you and I are now divorced. The last thing I want is to have that news spread around the city less than three months after notice of our marriage appeared in the newspapers, and he’ll do just that, just for spite,” he said firmly and squared his shoulders. “I’ll be the one to decide when and how I announce our divorce, not him.”

She met his gaze and held it. “Please keep your promise not to involve his wife.”

He nodded, albeit reluctantly, and somehow found the strength to glance away from her amazing green eyes to look down at the serving table. “My lawyer has prepared a number of documents that are yours to keep. In addition to a copy of the official court decree ending our marriage, which is dated for the seventh of January, you’ll find a copy of the settlement agreement you signed.”

She moistened her lips, but made no effort to take the documents. “There are also two envelopes lying there. What are they for?”

“The thickest contains the first settlement payment, which is yours now that the divorce has been granted. You’ll need funds to establish yourself elsewhere,” he added, hoping to erase her frown.

“How soon would you like me to leave?” Her words were so soft he barely heard her.

“I’d like you to be out of the city by next Thursday, which is Bradley’s deadline. Whatever I decide to do, I’d feel better about doing it if I knew you were far away from that man so he can’t take out his frustration on you. In the meantime, you’ll stay here, but I don’t think it would be wise to leave the estate. I’ll be staying here again until you leave, too, so if there’s anything you want or need, just tell me. I can have the items ordered and delivered here, or I can have the dressmaker or whomever brought to you here. Either way, be sure to put your purchases on my account and save your funds for later when you truly need them.”

Her head snapped up, and her eyes were wide with disbelief. “I can’t even leave here before then? Not even to shop?”

He stiffened his back. “I won’t risk having you encounter Bradley, not even by chance. If you’re at the estate with me and he has the gall to show up here again, I’ll be here to protect you.”

She huffed. “I didn’t need you to protect me when I met with him twice before. He wouldn’t dare do anything to me now. Not before he has the money he’s demanding, and by the time he finds out that he won’t be getting any money at all, I’ll be gone for good.”

“I wish I could be as confident as you are, but I’m not,” he said gently. “I don’t trust Bradley, and you shouldn’t, either.”

“After how he betrayed me, I don’t think I need to be reminded of how untrustworthy he is. He has no character at all, but he’s not stupid.”

“Perhaps not, but he is desperate. And desperate men often do stupid things,” Harrison countered and held tight rein to his temper before he lost it. “I don’t know why staying here for the next week or so should be such a problem. You tolerated much worse when we were left stranded by those robbers and then spent a rather miserable week at that inn.”

She got to her feet and sighed. “The problem is simply this: I didn’t have any other choice then. I do now, and since we’re no longer married, I would hope you would respect the fact that I’m free to make my own choices, even if that means you don’t like them.”

Totally frustrated, Harrison raked his fingers through his hair, but he refused to let this mite of a woman get her way and put herself at risk. “After next Thursday, you can make all the choices you want. Until then, I’ll decide what you can do,” he said and snatched up the envelope containing her funds. “You can have this when you leave.”

Her eyes widened with horror. “You’re keeping my funds?”

“I’m keeping you safe,” he argued and handed her the second envelope. “There are two tickets inside for you. Traveling anywhere north right now is nearly impossible, so next Thursday morning, Graham will take you to Havre de Grace in Maryland by coach. From there, you can sail south to Charleston using one of the tickets or to Richmond using the other. I’ll leave it up to you to choose where you’d like to go, and that’s the only choice you need to consider right now,” he said firmly. “Come spring, when travel is easier, you can settle wherever you like, as long as it isn’t in Philadelphia.”

She paled, but stiffened her back and tilted up her chin. “I’m not moving south. Not now. Not ever. And if you try to make me go there, you’ll . . . you’ll have to find those handcuffs you treasure so much, put them back together, and secure me to the coach to make me go.” She tossed the envelope onto the table and snatched up the documents, as if he might take those away from her, too. “These are mine,” Annabelle snapped. “It seems as though I may have started a collection, although I doubt I’ll ever want to add to it. Marrying one man I couldn’t trust and another who doesn’t trust me enough to find my own place to live is quite enough.”

“You don’t have to be so willful,” he argued. “What’s wrong with moving south for a spell?”

She did not look back but answered him on her way to the door. “That’s where Eric wants to settle. I’d rather be handcuffed to that coach again for the rest of my life than take the chance of ever seeing him again. And you needn’t worry that I’ll choose to stay in Philadelphia. I don’t want to see you, either,” she replied and walked toward the door.

“Where are you going? We aren’t done talking,” he argued, anxious to make her understand he had no reason to suspect that she would have any reason not to want to settle south, at least temporarily.

“Since you’ve proven yourself to be completely unreasonable, I’m finished talking. And if you must know, I’m going to find a lock for my door,” she snapped and disappeared into the hallway.

He stared at the doorway but did not even consider going after her. Although he had avoided seeing Irene when he arrived, he had no desire to see her now, especially with Annabelle charging around the house looking for a lock for her door. He picked up the envelope with the tickets, went straight to the library, where he knew no one would bother him, and slammed the door behind him.

After tossing both envelopes onto the desk, where they landed next to the diary she had given him, he paced from one end of the room to the other. Instead of stopping to pick up some of the funds that had fallen out of the envelope, he tried to understand why his talk with Annabelle had exploded into a disaster he had no idea how to mend.

Keeping her isolated out here until he settled things with Bradley made as much sense to him as making arrangements to send her away. He obviously had much more experience at escaping from difficulties than she did, and he was truly surprised she did not realize that she should be grateful for his help, instead of rejecting it outright as merely an effort to control her.

Recalling the horrified look on her face when he took back her settlement funds, he braced to a halt. “That was a stupid thing to do. Stupid,” he grumbled. He was half afraid to admit he had been desperate enough at that point to do most anything to make her listen to reason—a realization that doubled his determination to keep her away from Bradley.

He kicked at the floor and started pacing again. Sending her south was no longer an option, and he could have told her that if she had not stormed out without giving him a chance to explain that he never would have sent her south if he had known Bradley intended to settle there someday.

Eventually he reached the only conclusion that made sense to him: Find Annabelle, apologize, and ask her to talk to him to settle their differences. Before he left, he stopped long enough to put all of the money that had fallen to the floor back into the envelope. When he entered the hallway, however, he saw Alan walking toward him carrying a wooden work tray containing his tools.

“I was hoping to see you, sir. Before I put these locks on either side of the sleeping room door, I wanted to make sure you don’t have any objection. The one for the outside only has one key.”

Harrison let out a long sigh and knew he would have to offer her a very, very good apology. “Put them on, for now. Is Miss Annabelle downstairs?”

“The last time I saw her, she was in the kitchen with Irene. Do you want me to tell her you want to see her when I get back there?”

“Don’t bother. I’ll speak to her later during supper.”

“I’ll make sure Peggy sets the table up here for two, then,” he offered and continued down the hall.

Harrison took the servants’ stairs to the first floor. Whether he liked it or not, he would have to go out to the cottage to see Annabelle and convince her to sit down and talk to him. Having Irene there might even help, since she could remind Annabelle of the advice she had given both of them about never parting with harsh words left between them.

He took the basement steps two at a time and hurried into the tunnel. He and Annabelle might not be married anymore, but they were both going to be living in this house for the next week or so. He did not need a senseless argument between them to make it any harder, and neither did she.

He practically ran the entire length of the tunnel and stopped at the bottom of the basement steps in the cottage to catch his breath before he started up the stairs. As it turned out, Annabelle was not in the kitchen, but Irene was there standing at the table slicing up some apples. “I thought Annabelle was here. Can you tell me where she went?”

She did not respond to his question. She did not even look up to acknowledge the fact that he was in the room, but he repeated his question anyway, then braced for a lecture that would probably be blistering.

When she finished slicing up the apple in her hand, Irene set down her knife and looked up at him. Instead of launching into a full-blown reprimand, she gazed at him with disappointment and disillusionment, which was much more disconcerting than any words she might have used.

“Please,” he murmured. “I need to speak to her. Can you tell me where she is?” he asked, growing concerned that Annabelle had decided to run off.

“I promised not to say anything to you about what you did to a certain someone you’ve tossed away like a piece of strudel filled with plums,” she said, completely ignoring his question.

Stung, he wondered if she would ever understand why he had divorced Annabelle. Since he had no intention of ever telling her their marriage had been nothing more than a façade, he held silent.

She narrowed her gaze. “If I could say something to you to answer your question, I’d simply say that the certain someone you’re looking for is upstairs in the garret that I’ve fixed up for my son’s family, and she’s measuring the windows for the curtains she wants to make. I hope that while you’re keeping that someone here as a prisoner, you won’t try to stop me from going into the city tomorrow. I need to buy the fabric for the curtains, and I intend to stay for a while to visit with an old friend.”