Instead, he uttered ahumphand pried open the seal.
He read the brief letter, then exhaled deeply. “He has not found her. Nor discovered solid evidence of her presence in either Bath or London. He is returning to Bristol and will continue his inquiries there.”
He handed her the letter, and she read the words herself. Was it so wrong of her to be relieved? Then the last paragraph caught her attention:
Mr. Fontaine has been seen in London, but rumor has it that he has recently become engaged to marry a Miss Fox-Garwood, an heiress. I will write again when I have more to report.
Hannah recalled how grieved Anthony Fontaine had been when he’d come there and been told Marianna had drowned.Apparently his grief had not lasted long. Surely if Marianna were still alive, he would not become engaged to another woman. Then again, Lady Mayfield’s marriage had not hindered their affair....
“Now will you stay?” Sir John asked.
She squeezed her eyes shut. Took a deep breath. “No. I’ve stayed far too long as it is. Until all this is settled, I think it best we part ways.”
He laid a hand on her arm. She was tempted to lay hers atop his, but resisted.
“Then you stay—I will leave,” he said briskly, releasing her and rising with effort. “I’ve been thinking about returning to Bristol anyway.”
“Have you? Why?” Hannah asked in surprise. Was he returning to help Mr. Lowden in his search, she wondered, or to keep her from going off with his solicitor?
“Dr. Parrish recommends a great deal of physical exercise to increase my strength. I have a friend in Bristol who owns a gymnasium and fencing academy....”
Yes, Hannah vividly recalled.
“He has replied to my letter and promises to put me through my paces,” Sir John went on. “If I am to face Marianna and Fontaine again—I want to be whole and strong when I do so.”
“I see.” She hesitated. “Even so, I cannot remain here. I have no right. We shall make other arrangements. I’m sure Mrs. Turrill will help us.”
“You have every right, in my view. But if you must leave, keep us informed of your direction. I have instructed Mr. Lowden to send money—”
“Sir John, I already told you I don’t want any.”
“Hear me out. You needn’t use it for yourself if you prefer not to accept anything from me. But you cannot deny me the right to provide for my son. Please ... don’t deny me that.”
She hesitated, stilled by his earnest appeal. “Very well.”
“And take my copy ofSir Charles Grandison, since yours was lost. I insist.”
“Thank you, I should like that. When will you depart?”
“On the morrow. But no need to hurry. Take your time packing your things and making arrangements. Even stay on if you change your mind. Just promise me you’ll let Mr. Lowden know of any changes in your residence so he will know where to send the monthly stipend for Daniel’s upkeep.”
She said, “I don’t know that I will be seeing Mr. Lowden.”
“Oh...” He drew out the syllable, eyes glinting. “Somehow I think you will.”
Chapter23
Sir John, with Ben’s eager help, made quick work of packing one valise of clothing and another of his books and papers. Hannah took a respite from her own packing and went down to bid him farewell. She stood near the door, Danny in her arms, as he descended the stairs, cane in one hand, holding carefully to the handrail with the other. Seeing them, Sir John hesitated, grimacing as though their presence disappointed or embarrassed him, and she regretted her decision to see him off.
He slowly crossed the vestibule, disguising his limp as best he could, his eyes trained on her face all the while. She held her breath. What did he intend to do? His compressed mouth and intense gaze revealed little. Did he mean to deliver some sharp warning, or a passionate kiss? He stepped closer, then nearer yet, too close for formality or to offer a polite bow. She felt torn between backing up a step or leaning in. He looked into her eyes, then leaned down, farther and farther. Past her lips, her neck, her chest. Only then did she realize his intention. He pressed a kiss not to her face, but to Danny’s. Then, with a gentle finger, he wiped it away.
He turned and left the house without a word. Throat tight,she turned to the window and watched him walk toward the hired chaise, leaning heavily on his cane.
Hannah returned to her packing and found herself surprisingly ill at ease to be in the house now that Sir John had left it. She took her few belongings and only those things of Marianna’s she had altered to fit her or couldn’t do without. She finished in her own room an hour or so later, and then went downstairs to collect the book and her needlework from the drawing room. When a knock sounded at the front door, she started, a heavy sense of foreboding falling over her. An ominous triple knock—rap, rap,rap—at a leisurely pace. Hannah’s heart knocked against her ribs in reply.
“I’ll answer it, Mrs. Turrill,” Hannah called, setting aside her things and going to the door.
Hand on the latch, Hannah shut her eyes and silently prayed,Dear God in heaven. I deserve whatever happens to me, but please protect my son.
