Claudia looked keenly at her but did not make any comment.
“I believe,” Anne said, closing her eyes briefly, “I am going to be married.”
She had planned and rehearsed this for a whole week, ever since last Saturday morning, when she had walked into the center of Bath to post her letter to Glandwr. But so far she had said none of the words she had practiced. And she had not smiled or looked bright and happy, as she had planned to do.
“Married?”
She realized that Claudia had spoken the single word.
“I met him in Wales during the summer,” Anne explained. “He asked me to marry him then, and I have decided that I will say yes. I have written to him.”
“My felicitations.” Claudia was looking at her rather sternly, her back ramrod straight. “Might I be permitted to know his name?”
Anne sighed and slumped a little in her chair.
“I cannot do this,” she said, “as if you were simply a headmistress, my employer, and I a teacher. Or as if this were something I have been secretly considering for almost two months and have only now made a decision upon. I owe you better than this. I am so very sorry, Claudia. I told you everything about my month in Wales except the most significant part. He is Sydnam Butler, youngest son of the Earl of Redfield, and the Duke of Bewcastle’s steward at Glandwr.”
“Sydnam Butler,” Claudia said, “of Alvesley Park not far from Lindsey Hall? I remember him. He was an extraordinarily handsome boy.”
“I am with child by him,” Anne said bluntly.
Claudia stared at her, and Anne saw her jaw clench hard.
“Rape?” she asked.
“No!” Anne’s eyes widened. “Oh, no, Claudia. Nothing like that. No. I was a willing participant. He offered me marriage but I declined. I did promise, though, that I would let him know if I were with child, and allow him to marry me. I sent a letter off to him a week ago.”
There was a short silence.
“But you do not wish to marry him?” Claudia asked.
“No. Not really.”
But she had missed him far more than she could have predicted. Even before she had begun to suspect the truth with the absence of her monthly courses and the morning nausea, he had dominated her waking thoughts and haunted her dreams. And she had wondered—every day since her return to Bath she had wondered—if her answer would have been different if she had not taken sudden fright—and if he had asked differently.
If you wish, Anne, we will marry.
Such dutiful, kind,dispassionatewords.
Now they were going to be forced into marrying. She must accept his dutiful willingness to put everything right, and he must accept that she had kept her promise but that he might never have a wife who could offer him physical warmth.
Part of her longed for him. Part of her was terrified. And all of her hated the circumstances that would propel them into matrimony.Hewould hate the circumstances.
“Then you must not do so, Anne.” Claudia set both hands on the desk and leaned forward, her voice and face firm. “He is the son of an earl and of wealth and privilege, and he is far too handsome for his own good—or yours. He is an associate of the Duke of Bewcastle. You will bemiserable.”
“And what is the alternative, Claudia?” Anne asked. “To remain here at the school? You know that will be impossible.”
She watched the fierce light die out of Claudia’s eyes.
A number of parents had asked questions and expressed concern years ago when Miss Martin employed an unwed mother as a teacher—and when that teacher had had the effrontery to bring her bastard son with her. One girl had even been withdrawn from the school in protest.
“Besides,” Anne said, “I had no choice with David, Claudia, and life has been difficult for him as a result and will continue to be. I will not do that with another child when this time Idohave a choice.”
“Hewillmarry you?” Claudia asked.
“Yes,” Anne said.
With her heart she was quite, quite sure that he would. He would be here any day now. There was, though, an almost panicked doubt in her head. What if he did not come?
