Eventually, Anne bid the dear woman good-bye and left to return to Painswick Court.
As she crossed the churchyard, she mulled over the rumors Ursula had mentioned about Dr. Finch and young women, or at least one young woman, coming to his house. Anne had seen him talking with Rosa more than once now. Did Rosa sneak out to see him at his home too? If not her, then who? Or were the gossips wrong and it really had been his housekeeper and her daughter? The two lived and worked in his home, after all.
Her thoughts then turned to someone else. Katherine Fitzjohn had said her cousin Mr. Dalby would be returning to Painswick Court, but Anne had yet to see him. She hoped he had changed his mind and remained where he—
Suddenly, there he came, striding across the churchyard, greatcoat fluttering around him like black wings. Her breath caught. She had almost forgotten how devilishly handsome he was—like Adonis of old, or a fallen angel. Black hair and brows, chiseled features, proud bearing.
Her first instinct was to turn away, pretend she had not seen him, and avoid an awkward encounter. She would have done exactly that were they not soon to be residing under the same roof, according to Miss Fitzjohn. Better to get the unpleasantness over and done with in private, instead of inside the house with his family there to witness it.
Anne reminded herself that despite breaking Fanny’s heart, he was a man in mourning and told herself to be polite.
She stopped on the path. If she had expected instant recognition or remorse, she was to be disappointed. He seemed about to pass by without pause, but after sweeping a glance over her still form, clasped hands, and steady regard, he hesitated.
He acknowledged her with a nod. “Madam.” His perfunctory glance returned and lingered. His striking green eyes narrowed as he studied her face.
“Excuse me. You seem familiar, but at the moment, your name escapes me.”
“Anne Loveday. Fanny’s sister.”
He blinked, still apparently hazy.
“Fanny Loveday? At least, that was her maiden name.”
“Of course. How stupid of me. Miss Loveday.” He bowed. “It has been an age.”
For a moment her limbs seemed paralyzed, then she took a deep breath and managed a shallow curtsy.
“And your family is in good health, I trust?”
He did not, she noticed, ask how Fanny was in particular. Perhaps he didn’t want to know.
“My father and sister are well, yes. Fanny has marriedand lives near Tewkesbury. Her husband is a rector. A kindly, respectable man.”
“Ah. Well. Good.” A shadow passed over his face, though whether due to regret over breaking his promise to Fanny or her subsequent marriage, Anne could not be sure.
She added, “I only recently learned you lost your wife. My condolences.”
“Thank you.” He looked vaguely somewhere over her shoulder, then seemed to return to himself. “Well. A pleasure to see you again. Good day.” He touched his hat brim and turned away.
“Before you go,” Anne said quickly, “you should know that I am staying at Painswick Court for the time being.”
He turned back, face elongated in surprise. “Really? Why on earth would you?”
“Dr. Marsland asked me to serve as sickroom nurse to your aunt until a replacement might be found. Mrs. Horlick retired.”
“That, I heard. But why you?”
“Why not me? I have assisted my father and his patients for years.” Anne shrugged. “I certainly did not seek out the situation, but he and Dr. Finch were most persuasive.”
“This is an ... unforeseen development. What has my aunt said about the arrangement?”
“She wasn’t keen initially, but not because of ... That is, she has made no mention of your past connection with my sister. I don’t think she remembers.”
He nodded, lips drawn, then said, “Let’s keep it that way, shall we? No use in stirring up that unfortunate business now. Let sleeping dogs lie.”
Indignation seared her veins. “My sister is not a dog, Mr. Dalby.”
His catlike eyes widened. “Of course not. I never meant—! Please forgive me. It’s only an expression.”
