She set down the valise and shifted Danny to her other arm. She turned not to unknown freedom but across the landing to Sir John’s bedchamber, to sure condemnation.
She heard their voices before she reached the door, left ajar. Sir John’s low, raspy voice now and again responding to Dr. Parrish’s loquacious one. Were they talking about her? Had Sir John already told him?
Dr. Parrish turned when she entered. His face lit up at the sight of them. “Ah, here is your family now. Your lovely wife and fine healthy son.”
Clearly, Sir John had yet to disillusion him.
Hannah swallowed. “Dr. Parrish. I am glad you are here. There is something—”
“Always glad to be of service, especially to my neighbors,” the doctor went on. “And I’ve grown quite fond of this lad, I don’t mind telling you. Just look at him. My goodness, what a resemblance.”
“Resemblance to whom?” Sir John asked, voice scratchy from disuse.
Dr. Parrish’s brows shot up. “To whom? That’s a good one, sir. To you, of course. Mayfield nose and all.”
“That’s not who I see.”
It was now or never, Hannah realized. To explain her side, to apologize. Better to confess voluntarily than to wait to be exposed and then try to defend herself afterward.
She began hurriedly, “You see, Dr. Parrish. When you found us in the wrecked carriage and saw only the two of us within, you quite naturally assumed that we were ... that I was—”
“What a sight it was too,” Dr. Parrish interjected. “I shall never forget it. What a picture of tenderness amidst tragedy. For even though the both of you were injured and insensible, your wife tenderly cradled your head in her lap.”
Why must the man always interrupt? Hannah took a breath and pushed on. “Dr. Parrish, you are very kind. But it was only the way the carriage landed, the positions the fall thrust us into.”
“The positionsfatethrust you into!” he insisted. “Do you think such things happen by chance?”
“Fate? Tenderness?” Hannah shook her head, incredulous. “I don’t know how you could find such a scene anything but horrid.”
The doctor sighed. “Well, I had not yet come upon the coachman, who was thrown some distance from the wreck. Nor had we spied the poor creature carried away on the tide.”
Sir John winced. He murmured through a crackling throat, “My fault. All mine.”
Dr. Parrish said, “And your wife suffered injuries too, butlook how well she has recovered. Her head injury—show him, my lady, if you would. There. I put in the stitches myself and later removed them. I’m no surgeon, mind, but there isn’t one for miles, so the missus and I did our best. There will be a scar, I fear, but nothing a little carefully arranged hair cannot conceal. And her arm is knitting nicely. She needs to regain the strength of it, just as you will need to regain the use and strength of your limbs.”
Hannah squeezed her eyes shut. It was so tempting not to press on. Not to admit the truth. She exhaled an agitated sigh. “Dr. Parrish, please let me finish. I need to apologize. You misunderstood the situation and I allowed that misapprehension to continue. I am not—”
“My lady.” Sir John slanted her a look. “Are you unwell?” He turned toward Dr. Parrish. “Might her head wound have left her confused? For my wife does not seem herself.”
Hannah stared at him, feeling her mouth sag open. She glanced over her shoulder. Had Marianna miraculously appeared? Was he seeing an apparition? She turned back and met his unwavering gaze. Had his head wound lefthimconfused, or...? Or what?“My wife does not seem herself.”What did that mean? Was he blind, or off in his attic? But the eyes that locked on hers held a disconcerting, knowing glint. Was he telling her not to reveal her identity to Dr. Parrish? Why should he?
As though for clarification, Sir John asked, “The poor creature carried away on the tide...?”
Dr. Parrish replied, “Your wife’s companion. Hannah Rogers.”
Hannah had mentioned the death before, though she wasn’t sure how much he’d comprehended.
Sir John lifted his chin in understanding. “Ah. Of course.”
Dr. Parrish added, “And as sad as that is, we can at least be thankful that you and Lady Mayfield were spared.”
Hannah opened her mouth in one last attempt, but the wordsevaporated under the intensity of Sir John’s gaze. He reached out and grasped her free hand. It likely appeared a comforting gesture, but to Hannah it felt like a warning.
As if sensing her unease, Danny began to whine and chafe, kicking painfully against her arm.
Sir John said with a casual air Hannah found unsettling, “The child is restless, mydear. Perhaps you ought to lay him down and get some rest yourself. But do come and see me again in an hour or so.”
He wanted to speak to her alone, was that it? To avoid scandal to the Mayfield name? And no doubt to tell her exactly what he thought of her in private.
