The Trouble with Anna

Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

A NNA’S BLOOD CHURNED, BEATING ALMOST as fast as Sally’s hooves on the turf as they tore through the park. She could hear the groom calling, “Lady Anna, wait!” but she ignored him, tensing her muscles and flinging her hands forward to drive Sally over a boxwood. The horse took flight and Anna’s heart soared, only to land again with a thump as Sally touched down on the green.

Faster! Anna urged. Faster!

Sally tore across the grass and the wind whipped Anna, slashing at her eyes, grabbing for her mouth, reaching down into her hair and trying to yank it out at the roots. Each stride crashed through her like thunder, yet she stretched forward, asking for more. If she stopped, the feelings would catch her. They’d climb up her throat, leak out her eyes, and stream out of her ears in noxious clouds. A fearsome pressure was building inside and she ran from it as fast as she could.

Only when both horse and rider were completely exhausted did Anna turn toward the Dowager’s townhouse.

Charlotte sat on the stairs to the back terrace, stitching a design of crossed sabers and severed heads, and waiting for her. “There you are!’ She tossed her embroidery hoop down. “We can run away to Scotland if you like. It won’t take five minutes to ready the carriage.”

Anna’s jaw hardened. “Run from your brother? Whyever would I?”

“So you’re still going to marry him?” Charlotte clapped her hands. “Oh, thank goodness. If you ask me, he only said those horrid things because—”

But Anna wasn’t listening. She was stuck in the tar of her thoughts, where Julian’s awful words held her fast.

A woman more comfortable with horses than people, who prickles up at the smallest thing and spends half her time yelling at me.

It was true, all of it. And strangely, hearing him say it out loud wasn’t nearly as painful as what he’d said in the study, the two of them in the low circle of light from the fire with the door closed against the rest of the world.

My god, Anna, why do you give no value to the best parts of yourself?

With his voice low and urgent in her ear and his hands holding her tight, she’d allowed herself to believe.

Of all the women I’ve known, I choose you.

Lies, lies, LIES! And she’d licked them up like sugar from his palm.

Shame spiked again and she breathed hard against it. Anxious, sucking breaths that only pushed the humiliation deeper into her hidden corners. How had she let herself believe that Julian wanted to marry her, when her own grandfather didn’t love—

“Anna?” said Charlotte.

“I’m not marrying him!” Anna said in a choked voice. “Oh god. I suppose you’d better call for the carriage after all, because I can’t stay with your grandmother any longer.”

Charlotte jumped to her feet. “What nonsense! Gran and I have already spoken and she’ll box my ears if I let you leave. You’re welcome here as long as you’d like.”

Anna slumped down onto the terrace steps. “I won’t need to stay long. I know I can sell the horses quickly if I put my mind to it.”

The only reason she hadn’t sold them already was because she’d begun to hope… Oh, how could she have been so stupid?

“If you ask me, Julian didn’t mean a word he said.” Charlotte sat down next to her, her hand hovering above Anna’s shoulder. “He’s been acting so strangely, you see, and I think it’s because—”

But once again, Anna wasn’t listening. Her anger and hurt whirled together, forming an idea so brash that it sat up and demanded attention. She didn’t want to sell the horses, pension off the servants, and plonk herself down somewhere obscure to suffer in silence. She wanted to race the horses, damn it!

Charlotte read Anna’s face. “What are you scheming?”

Anna sat up and swiped at her eyes. “How much have we won gambling so far?”

“I’d have to check the last race, but I imagine at least a hundred pounds by now.”

Anna frowned. “Fifty pounds each. It’s not bad.”

“One hundred pounds each, actually. Why? What’s your plan?”

Anna took a deep breath, crushing all her feelings down into a little leaden ball that sat heavy in the pit of her stomach. “I want to own a racing stable. A real one, with my own name on it. I want the whole world to know what Archer and his line can do.”

“And you’re wondering if you can manage it by gambling.” Charlotte frowned. “How much would you need?”

“I wouldn’t have to buy all Chatham’s horses. Just a few of the best would be enough to start my own stable and pension the servants. I’d have to find a yard, pay the grooms, cover the feed and fees…” Anna ran the numbers through her head. “I could just about make it with five thousand pounds.”

Charlotte sat back and sucked in her cheeks. “Five thousand pounds!”

“Oh dear. I’m in trouble if that number shocks even you.”

Charlotte didn’t answer. Instead, she concentrated, calculating madly. As the seconds ticked by and Charlotte remained silent, Anna’s hopes fell, but before she could say anything—or perhaps kick her friend to make sure she was breathing—Charlotte’s face cleared.

“Five thousand pounds?” Her lips curved into a decidedly criminal grin. “We’d better get started, don’t you think?”