"Perhaps,
"
said Annabelle through set teeth, "it was an act of God—you know, like earthquakes and natural disasters.
"
"Or the hand of fate,
"
replied Bertie, her eyes twinkling.
They descended to the morning room without exchanging another word. Annabelle
'
s lips were set in a straight line, and Bertie attempted without much success to emulate her employer
'
s example. They found Richard at table, waiting on himself.
By virtue of the fact that it was Sunday, and therefore a day of rest, Annabelle saw no reason to discommode her servants if they had better things to do; and it seemed most of them had. Her small domestic staff of five was reduced to two, a footman and a maid-of-all-parts who did little more than set out and remove the cold collations which Cook had prepared the day before.
Mrs. Pendleton, in the two years that she had been Annabelle
'
s companion, also availed herself of her employer
'
s generosity. There was a cousin in Kensington, a
Mrs. Black and her family, with whom she was in the habit of spending the day. Annabelle allowed her the use of her carriage to make the journey and sent it to fetch her very early the following morning. The routine never varied as long as they were in residence in Greek Street. After dropping Annabelle and Richard at the gates of St. James Church on Piccadilly, Mrs. Pendleton would continue on to Kensington and send the carriage back in time to pick up Annabelle and her son at the close of services.
Annabelle had never made the acquaintance of this cousin, but not from the want of trying. With almost boring regularity, she made it known to her companion that her house was always open to her friends and relations. Bertie never availed herself of the offer, and Annabelle, though curious, did not press the issue.
Almost as a matter of habit, she said, "My compliments to your cousin when you see her, Bertie, and be kind enough to remind her that my invitation still stands.
"
"Thank you, I shall. But I don
'
t doubt that Lotty will remain in Kensington.
"
Carefully buttering an edge of dry toast, she said by way of explanation, "She would never leave her husband to fend for himself even for a day or two.
"
"I thought she was a widow,
"
said Annabelle, frowning. Her eyes followed the burly figure of the new footman who had entered the room bearing a pot of fresh tea.
"What? Oh no! What ever gave you that idea?
"
"Something you said. I must have misunderstood. Thank you, Edwards,
"
she said to the footman. He set the silver teapot at her elbow. Annabelle observed his rough, callused hands and wondered idly what his former occupation had been before joining her employment. She made a mental note to ask Jerome when the carriage was brought round.
"What about your niece, Amy?
"
asked Annabelle, pinning Richard with a fierce glare when the scamp used his fingers to clean the marmalade from his side plate. He desisted immediately and won an approving smile from his mother.
There was a moment
'
s silence. "What about her?
"
"I know you
'
re very fond of her. Would your cousin permit her to accompany us when next we visit Rosedale? Or perhaps she
'
s too young to make the journey?
"
"No
…
no. She
'
s four years old. Do you really mean it, Annabelle? And what about your good brother and good sister? Won
'
t they object?
"
"Of course I mean it, and you must be funning if you think they
'
ll object. They have five boys. Henrietta will positively go into raptures over having a little girl under her roof for a week or so. And they
'
re really very kind people at heart. It
'
s only that…
"
"Yes, I know. Your unconventional not to mention hoydenish conduct brings out the worst in them. Let
'
s hope they don
'
t hear about last night
'
s escapade, or you may find yourself sent to Coventry.
"
"Careful,
"
said Annabelle, pointedly glancing in her son
'
s direction. "Little people have long ears.
"
"I
'
m not little, and I don
'
t have long ears,
"
said the object of
her obliquity, clearly affronted. "May I be excused?
"
"Yes, dear. There
'
s a nip in the air, so better wear your warm woolen cap, the one that Grandpapa sent you from York.
"
When the two ladies were alone, Annabelle said, "Charles and Henrietta would never give me the cut direct. For one thing, I
'
m family. For another, Charles and I are Richard
'
s joint guardians. At the most, I may expect a very long and boring lecture.
"
"I
'
m surprised that Sir Charles hasn
'
t stooped to using Richard as a lever to reform your wicked ways.
"
"No,
"
said Annabelle, refilling both empty cups from the teapot, "Edgar made it very plain that Richard was to be my responsibility. Naming Charles as co-guardian was in the nature of a formality. Charles would never go against Edgar
'
s express wishes.
"
"You like them, don
'
t you?
"
"Of course. I like them both. Though I will admit that sometimes Henrietta is a little hard to take.
"
"Don
'
t you know why?
"
"Well it
'
s obvious. She thinks I
'
m a hoyden.
"
"That
'
s not the reason,
"
said Mrs. Pendleton, and bit into a corner of toast to hide her smile.
For some reason, Annabelle did not wish to pursue the subject. "You will remember to ask your cousin,
"
she said.
"I beg your pardon?
"
"About Amy. I expect we shall receive our usual invitation to go to Rosedale the first week in November. The children will love it.
"
"Oh yes. It ends with Guy Fawkes Night at Lewes.
"
"You mustn
'
t worry about Amy being frightened. You can keep her indoors if you think it will be too much for her.
"
"If I know Amy, nothing will keep her indoors, not even if she
'
s terrified out of her wits.
"
"Yes, children are funny that way, aren
'
t they?
"
said Annabelle. "They seem to thrive on excitement.
"
"Speaking of which,
"
said Mrs. Pendleton meaningfully, "I expect we shall be seeing something of Lord Dalmar during
the next month or so, whether we will or no. He said that he has a
house in Cavendish Square and plans to open it up and
take up residence until Christm
as at least.
"
"Wonderful,
"
said Annabelle, determ
ined not to rise to the bait. "
If you can pull it off, I
'
ll give you a phaeton-and-pair as a wedding present.
"
"What?
"
"You will let me know when I may wish you happy?
"
Bertie laughed. "Oh Annabelle, something tells me that you will not be a gracious loser.
"
For the short time that it took to drive to Piccadilly, Annabelle chattered like a magpie, carefully avoiding the distressing subject of Lord Dalmar. And she was distressed, almost more than she was willing to admit. She might disclaim his proprietary interest in her with her last breath, but deep down she knew that she had made a fatal blunder. For whatever reason, she had given herself to him though every instinct had warned her that to do so would forge an unbreakable bond between them. She felt the inescapable pull of those bonds, and everything in her rebelled against it.
She entered the high-vaulted nave with its capacious galleries determined to banish him from her mind. For a time she was successful, for as her eyes roamed the impressive interior designed by Christopher Wren and richly embellished with the carvings of Grinling Gibbons, she could not but reflect that she knew more intimately than she would have liked many of the notable fashionables who graced the pews. Their names were to be found in the pages of Monique Dupres
'
s diaries. Color heated her cheeks. She put her head down and led her son to their regular places in the Jocelyn family pew.
The organ prelude, normally wont to leading the worshipers to a time of quiet introspection before the service began, was on this occasion torture to Annabelle. Her head was filled with the vision of a pair of fine gray eyes flashing with the brilliance of silver, softening like the gray mists which floated up the Thames estuary, gentle and yet so cunningly misleading that the unwary might easily become lost in their depths.
It was the deep and melodious tones of the rector himself which finally brought her out of her reverie. Dean Gerrard Andrews delivered the sermon, and a very fine sermon it was,
too. His text, from the Gospel of St. John, was "Let he who is without sin cast the first stone,
"
and he dealt with the passage on the woman taken in adultery. And how Annabelle squirmed! It not only brought to mind a weakness with respect to Dalmar which she could not explain to herself, but also raised some doubts in her mind about whether or not publishing her latest acquisition was the Christian thing to do.
Her confusion on the subject did not last long. As the congregation filed out of the north door, where the rector had stationed himself to shake hands with his flock, she could not help the quick rise of indignation as she listened to the unguarded, sanctimonious comments of some of the male worshipers.
"That
'
s telling
'
em, Rector!
"
"That
'
s women for you! Agents of the devil, as we poor males know to our cost.
"
"Letting
'
em off too light, Rector, letting
'
em off too light. Fire and brimstone. That
'
s what they want.
"
And
that,
thought Annabelle, bristling with annoyance, was from three members of Parliament who figured quite prominently in the pages of Monique Dupres
'
s diaries!
Her look was direct, her hand was quite steady when she finally offered it to her priest. "I
'
ll try not to break any glass windows,
"
was her only comment before she followed the press of people into the walled churchyard.
After church, it was her wont to idle away a good half hour in exchanging commonplaces with her neighbors. On this day of all days, however, Annabell
e did not wish to tarry. Lord T
emple was a member of St. James and was almost certain to be present among the crowd. After what had passed between them the night before, she did not know how she could look him in the eye. Smiling and waving vaguely in the direction of some ladies who hailed her, she grasped her son
'
s hand and made a beeline for the great domed stone archway which gave onto Piccadilly.
Lord Temple was lying in wait for her on the other side of the wall. She heard his voice at her back, and schooling her features, she turned to offer him her hand.
"Gerry,
"
she said, making a fair attempt to appear natural.
From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of her carriage across the street, outside the gates of Albany House.
"I want to go home,
"
piped Richard, edging away from the approaching figure of the Viscount.
Though normally of a sunny disposition, young Richard could turn belligerent on occasion. It was no secret in Annabelle
'
s household that the young master viewed his mother
'
s suitors with marked disfavor. This display of jealousy was thought to be quaint and rather appealing among the servants. To Annabelle it proved something of a nuisance, and extremely embarrassing on more occasions than she cared to remember.