Chapter 34 #3
Despite their proximity to each other, Anne suspected her cousin couldn’t hear, but appreciated that she had mastered the art of listening.
She continued to muse out loud. “I’m thinking it would not be such a terrible thing to be his wife.
” She paused. “He can be frightfully dull, but he isn’t stupid.
Indeed, he is a great deal more sensitive to what is going on in the world than one might think.
” Now she sighed. “Another man might not have given a second thought to Moreham’s peculiar activities in France, but Sir Edmund, he filed it away.
” She tapped her temple with her free hand. “He remembered.”
Agatha smiled at the gesture. “Extraordinary, isn’t it, how rubbing the hands helps ease the head? My mother used to do this for me when I was a child. Now give me your other hand.”
Anne obeyed. “Not that he made use of what he knows; he maneuvers rather clumsily around the ton. And I should be marrying beneath my station and my style should I agree to his proposal… But I do believe that if one cannot make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear, one can artfully conceal it, if one has the wherewithal.
And Sir Edmund has so very much money.” She smiled.
“Just think, Agatha, how nice it would be to buy pretty things without worrying. Never again to decide between a new pair of gloves or butter with tea.”
“As soon as I’m done with your hands, I’ll ring for some tea,” Agatha agreed.
“But I worry about my father.” Anne frowned.
“About leaving him alone, especially now that James is gone. It was fine when he was just puttering about upstairs, planning his forays, but…” She trailed off.
“He could be frightening to someone who doesn’t understand what a sweet gentleman he is.
I would never dream of sending him away.
Not merely because of the scandal it would create, all the talk of madness in the Dinsmore blood, but because I should never forgive myself if he were to come to harm because I was not there to oversee his care. ”
Agatha patted Anne’s hand; then there was a discreet knock at the door. Anne withdrew her hand and straightened. “Come,” she called, clearly enough to be heard by the doorman she knew to be standing in the hall.
He entered, crossing the green and gold diamond pattern of the carpet, a silver salver balanced in one hand. “A letter, my lady.” When he reached the arm of her chair he lowered the tray.
Anne picked up the cream-colored envelope, turning it over, and frowning at the address. “That will be all.” She dismissed the footman.
“It’s for you,” she said to Agatha as soon as she heard the door click closed behind him.
“Whoever could be writing to me?” Agatha inquired, reaching for the envelope.
Anne placed it in her hand. “Someone at Moreham Hall.”
Agatha withdrew a note from the envelope and unfolded it.
“It is from Lady Alix. She writes with a lovely hand.” Her eyes scanned the page.
“She thanks me very graciously for the gift of the stockings. Asks after my health, if I am enjoying my stay, and if I would like to come for tea, Wednesday next.”
“That is in three days.” Anne raised her voice for Agatha’s benefit, her mind working furiously. Clearly the invitation was an empty formality, tossed off without any expectation Agatha would accept.
“I hear the hall is quite lovely. And the gardens, well, I’ve heard it said the dowager countess works miracles with plants.”
“Louisa devotes a great deal of time and attention to her gardens. They are justifiably famous. An opportunity to see them should not be missed.” Or rather, this opportunity to call upon the Harcrests should not be missed, Anne thought.
“I should, indeed, enjoy it.” Agatha clasped her wrinkled hands together. “Cousin, you will accompany me?”
“I haven’t been invited; the note was addressed to you.” Anne feigned uncertainty.
“An oversight, I’m sure. Naturally Lady Alix assumes you shall be with me. Do say yes. It will be ever so amusing…”
Amusing was not the word Anne Dinsmore would have chosen.
She made up her mind on the spot. She was going to expose them.
Spreading absurd stories that Elizabeth Harcrest was visiting respectable families!
And she would expose Rafe’s tawdry involvement in trade as well.
That would put an end to all the worries that were burdening her mind.
Finally, Rafe Moreham would receive proper payment for the day he turned his back on her for that French whore.
She put her hand to her chin as if considering Agatha’s suggestion.
“I do believe you’re right, Agatha dear.
We should assume her failure to include me in your invitation is an oversight—and one that I shall overlook.
After all, she is not an Englishwoman. Who knows what dreadful gaps there may be in her social education? ”
“Shall I write to inform her you shall be accompanying me?”
“Oh no, let us not embarrass her by calling the error to attention. Moreham and I have known each other since we were children. I will make this visit a very special surprise.”
“Lady Anne, you think of everything.”
“I try, Agatha.” Anne smiled. “Truly I do.”