Becky thought. “Perhaps we might find new posts a’way out there where nobody knows us.”
“That’s what I’m hoping. However, first you will return with us as Danny’s nurse. If you still want to come.”
“I’ve nowhere else to go.”
Hannah glanced over at her son in Edgar Parrish’s arms. “Neither, it seems, do I.”
She turned toward the waiting Edgar and forced a smile. “Becky will be coming with us after all. I hope that is all right.”
“Of course. Do we need to go and pick up his belongings?”
She said breezily, “Never mind that. We have sufficient for the journey and will purchase what he needs when we arrive.”
For a moment both Nancy and Edgar stared at her, confusion wrinkling their brows.
“A fresh start in his new home,” Hannah said brightly. She turned and strode away in the direction of the coaching inn before either of them could ask further questions, though she heard Nancy whispering to Edgar as they walked. Probably something about the wasteful ways of the wealthy. Better that, Hannah thought, than suspecting the truth.
When they arrived at the Westgate, rested horses were harnessed to the hired chaise. When all was ready, Ben helped her, Becky, and Nancy into the chaise.
Edgar handed Danny in to her. “Now then.” He smiled. “Let’s get this fine lad home.”
Home... The word echoed through Hannah’s mind. Lynmouth was not her home. Nor was Bath. Her father’s house in Bristol had once been, but no longer. Would she and Danny ever have a home of their own?
Hannah held her son on a small rug on her lap. As the sun lowered in the sky, they stopped for the night at another coaching inn. Before joining the others for a late supper, she excused herself and stepped into a nearby shop to purchase baby linen for Danny—a clean nightgown, cap, and cloths. She once again considered leaving young Mr. Parrish and his sweetheart. But the inn was on the outskirts of a small village that did not look promising in terms of employment. Besides, her arm was not yet fit for work. And then there was Becky to consider. Hannah had to resign herself to the uncomfortable notion of returning to Clifton—to the house of Sir John Mayfield—and taking her chances there.
What if Sir John had awakened? She quailed at the thought of Dr. Parrish informing Sir John that his wife had returned to Bath to collect their child.
“Collect our child?”he would say, stupefied.“Our child has yet to be born.”
After that would follow questions, descriptions, and the stunning realization that his wife’s companion had the audacity to assume his wife’s identity. And that his own wife was gone. How hurt and disillusioned kind Dr. Parrish would be, and how furious Sir John. Would Hannah return “home,” only to be cast out, or worse, arrested as the fraud she was? What would happen to Danny then?
Chapter7
Back on the road the next day, they passed the village where they’d seen the two women in the stocks. Now the stocks were empty. Even so, a shiver crept up Hannah’s spine.
As they passed through Countisbury and neared Clifton House, Hannah’s palms began to perspire and she found herself breathing shallow and fast. Here, the road hugged the cliffs more tightly, and the chaise seemed to careen too close to the edge. She winced as snatches of memory flashed through her mind—tumbling down, crying out, a whipping red cape and whirling windows, glimpses of the channel beyond....
Hannah tensed and searched for a handhold.
“Is this where the accident happened?” she asked, a little catch in her voice.
Nancy looked out the window, studying the passing terrain. “Yes, my lady, very near.”
Another shiver passed over Hannah and she held Danny closer.
When the chaise reached Clifton at last, Hannah’s heart beat so hard she feared Nancy would hear it. The postilion slowed the horses and brought the chaise to a stop in front of the house. Ben opened the door for them and let down the step.Edgar extended his hand to help Nancy alight. When it was Hannah’s turn, she stepped from the carriage on shaky legs, then reached back to take Danny from Becky.
Child firmly in her arms, Hannah turned toward Clifton, pulse tripping unevenly, ready to bolt if need be. Becky stepped down beside her, hovering near. She felt Becky’s uncertain gaze return again and again to her profile, but she was too anxious to offer any reassurances.
Out from the house came Dr. and Mrs. Parrish, followed by the housekeeper, Mrs. Turrill. She could not make out their expressions—accusation or welcome?
Nancy waved and Edgar lifted a thumb high.
“Here you are,” Dr. Parrish called. “You must have made an early start. We were just beginning to look for you.”
Her throat tight, Hannah asked, “How is Sir John?”
The physician looked at her, his expression grave but not, she thought, angry.
