His words, his sneer, cut deep and she turned away.
He grasped her shoulders from behind. “Forgive me, Hannah. I didn’t mean it. I am only ... angry. Hurt.”
“I know.”
“I should never have allowed myself to hope. In my heart of hearts, I knew you’d choose him.”
She stared out the window, seeing other windows, shuttersslamming in a storm. “I chose him a long time ago, whether I knew it or not.”
She drew herself up, turned, and resolutely met his gaze. “I am fond of him.” Should she tell James she had long admired Sir John Mayfield? Admit she had struggled to suppress unrequited feelings for her employer while Marianna was alive? Or would it only hurt him more?
She said simply, “And hopefully in time he will come to care for me as he does Danny.”
Oh, how she prayed that was true.
Chapter22
After breakfast the next day, Mr. Lowden asked Hannah to join him in the morning room. His eager eyes and secretive air indicated something important was afoot.
“I’ve had a letter from a friend of mine in this morning’s post,” he began as he ushered her inside. “Remember that Captain Blanchard I mentioned?”
“Yes?”
Looking into the hall to be sure no one else was near, James closed the door. He gestured her to take a seat, and then lifted the open letter from the desk. “It’s rather surprising. He wrote to tell me he saw Lady Mayfield again, this time in London.”
“Lady Mayfield? How ... interesting.”
“I thought so.”
“When was this—a long time ago, I assume?”
“No. Last week.”
Hannah’s heart banged against her ribs. “Obviously your friend was mistaken.”
“Then he is not alone in his mistake, for he sent along an article from a London society column.” He handed her a rectangle of newsprint and Hannah read,
Sir Francis Delaval hosted a masquerade ball at his home last night. Attendance was sadly low, as so many have returned to their estates, leaving town parties in favor of country house parties. However, the evening was saved by the appearance of a very beautiful Diana, which caused great speculation among the company. Several in attendance noted a striking resemblance to Lady M. M—, lately of Bath, who graced us with her charming presence in the past. But this time Lady M. was unaccompanied by either husband or preferred companion, the charming though insolvent Mr. F—.
No... Hannah thought.It can’t be. She gripped the article and insisted, “It’s just a rumor.”
“I’m not so sure. My friend had met Marianna Mayfield before, you remember, when my father was still Sir John’s solicitor. So he recognized her and even spoke with her. Blanchard wrote with much enthusiasm of her great beauty, enchanting brown eyes, and fair complexion.”
It certainly sounded like Marianna. Even so, Hannah struggled to believe it. “There are many beautiful, dark-haired women in London. He must have seen someone else.”
“Possibly, though he seems quite certain.”
“She drowned,” Hannah reminded him. “Edgar and Dr. Parrish saw her. Your friend must be mistaken.” Hannah said the words with bravado, yet inwardly knew it was she herself who’d made the mistake. Too many mistakes to count.
Might Marianna still be alive? Carrying on life in London with Mr. Fontaine? Hannah shuddered at the thought. How long until others learned of the rumor, whether true or not? Until everyone in Lynton and Lynmouth knewshewas not who they thought she was?
Hannah asked, “Was the lady in question wearing a mask? After all, this article mentions a masquerade ball.”Don’t panic,she told herself. The sighting could have been no more than residual rumor—a woman wearing a costume seen flirting with a man andassumedto be Lady Mayfield.
“He saw her face,” James replied. “For just a moment, she removed her mask.”
The last candle of hope snuffed out. “And so you will remove mine,” she whispered, guessing the solicitor meant to tell everyone of the discovery. She wondered what Sir John would do.
James said gently, “Do you see now why you cannot let the deception continue, or think of marrying him?”
