Another stab to Anne’s heart. He no doubt wished he had been on hand to rectify Anne’s failings. If he had been there, her mother might have lived.
2
Anne wrote to her sister, explaining her plan to go to Painswick for the summer or perhaps longer. Fanny, who lived with her husband some ten miles away, wrote back immediately, insisting she would deliver Anne there herself. Anne questioned the wisdom of Fanny traveling to Painswick. In fact, she was fairly certain it would not be wise at all.
Despite Anne’s protestations, less than a week later, Fanny came for her as promised.
While Anne stood at the window, watching the carriage rattle up the road, Nancy came and stood beside her. “You are leaving on my account, I suppose.”
“You did say it was time for me to go,” Anne replied. “And in this, I agree with you.”
“So now your father will blame me.”
He blames me for something farworse, Anne thought but did not say the words. She supposed she should tell Nancy her leaving was not her fault, but Anne could not honestly say so. She swallowed and said rather awkwardly, “I hope you ... remain in good health.”
Picking up her things, Anne went outside. Nancy remainedin the house, but Papa came out to see them off. Tears threatened, but Anne willed them away and said briskly, “Now, you will remember Mr. Cowley needs more horehound for his cough, won’t you? And Miss Bates her feverfew tablets?”
“I will remember.”
He kissed her cheek, and Fanny’s as well. Then, a few moments later, Anne and her sister were on their way back to Painswick after an absence of nearly three years. Painswick, the place of ninety-nine yew trees and many more memories. A place where loved ones had once lived ... and a few friends, and one foe, still resided.
Inside the small vehicle, the sisters occupied the single bench, while Fanny’s young maid sat on the pull-down seat at one side. She soon fell asleep, her chin bobbing against her chest as she dozed.
Anne glanced at her watch pin, then asked her sister, “I suppose Mr. Norton was ... busy today?”
“Oh, no more than usual. He offered to come along, but I preferred to bring Betsy.” Fanny nodded toward the slumbering maid. “She is quiet and will better serve as companion for the return journey.”
At the dismissive words, Anne felt a stab of pity for her sister’s well-meaning husband.
About an hour later, the carriage topped a rise and rounded a bend, and the tall tower and spire of St. Mary’s came into view through the side window. Anne glanced at her sister next to her, concern for her making Anne uneasy. Fanny stared straight ahead, not reacting, her view obstructed by the flapping coattails of the coachman on the box. Anne guessed she was seeing more scenes from the past than present scenery anyway.
“We shall be there in a few minutes,” Anne said softly, gentle warning in her tone.
“Hm?” Fanny stirred from her reverie. “Oh. Yes.”
“It was kind of you to bring me,” Anne said. “I hope this will not prove difficult for you. Being here. The memories.”
For Anne, memories of Painswick were primarily pleasant. Their mother had been born there. And Mamma’s parents had continued to live in the thriving wool town long after she and Papa had married and moved away. Together Anne and Fanny had spent many happy summers visiting their maternal grandparents before their deaths a few years before. So Anne was grateful for a chance to return. Then again, she had not had her heart broken there, her plans to marry the man she loved destroyed.
Fanny’s expression remained distant. Dreamy. “Painswick might have been my home, even now. If only it were. If only his aunt had not interfered. I might be happy instead of trapped in a loveless marriage.”
“Fanny, Mr. Norton loves you. That’s easy to see.”
“Then that makes one of us.”
When Fanny had broken her heart over a man who’d promised to marry her, their stepmother had urged her to recover her spirits by marrying a lonely clergyman she knew—a rector with an excellent income and a fine home. Her sister did so yet seemed unable or unwilling to forget her first love. Anne felt sorry for her sister but also frustrated with her for making no real effort to learn to appreciate the man she had married. A man she resented for not being Jude Dalby.
After Fanny had wed, their stepmother turned her efforts on Anne, trying to marry her off as well. She also insisted Anne begin acting like a young lady and cease assisting her father in his surgery and the apothecary shop. Her father did not contradict her.
How the rejection had stung.
Fanny suddenly gripped her hand. “Do you think we will see him?”
The frenzied light in Fanny’s eyes unsettled Anne anew.Taking a deep breath, she replied evenly, “I would not think so. Even if we do, remember he is married now, as you are.”
“I know that. You need not remind me. You must promise that if you meet with him while you are here, you will not flirt with him. I remember you liked him first.”
“I did not!” Anne protested. She could not deny she’d thought him handsome, but she’d liked his cousin Jasper far better.
