“Besides, I am hardly likely to flirt with a married man. Especially one who promised to marry you and then changed his mind.”
Fanny shook her head. “His aunt forebade the match. It was her fault, not his. You are wrong to judge him harshly.”
All the old arguments gathered in Anne’s mind.He was a grown man. If he had really wantedto marry you he could have,inheritance or no.But Anne bit her tongue. There was no point in rehashing that now. It was all in the past. If only Fanny could see that too, resign herself to reality, and commit herself to the husband she had.
They reached the outskirts of town and then rattled along New Street, passing the half-timbered post office, familiar shops, houses of honey-colored stone, and the Falcon Inn, before halting in front of Yew Cottage. The two-story home stood across the street from the magnificent parish church set in its large, park-like churchyard.
“You will come in and greet Miss Newland?” Anne asked. “She invited us both to take tea with her.”
Her sister did not move.
“Fanny?”
Her sister stared out the window at the many yew trees in the churchyard. Tears pooled in her eyes. “Actually, I won’t. I thought I wanted to see Painswick again, but now we’re here ... no. I don’t even want to set foot on its cobbles.” She sniffed and raised her chin. “Please pass along my greetingsto Miss Newland and instruct John to take us on to Stroud. We’ll rest the horses and have dinner there before heading back.”
“Very well. If you are certain ...?”
“I am.”
Anne descended alone, reticule and medicine case in hand. The coachman carried her travel trunk and valise to the front door of Yew Cottage and then climbed back on the box. A moment later the carriage was once again in motion, continuing on its way. Anne raised her hand in farewell, but Fanny’s face remained averted, staring straight ahead.
Anne lifted the knocker, and a few moments later a young maid she didn’t know opened the door and led her into the parlour.
As soon as Anne entered, her gaze fastened on the sight of dear Charlotte Newland with her faded auburn hair parted at the center, slender nose, and kind, fawn-like eyes.
Charlotte rose awkwardly on a bandaged ankle and enfolded her in a tender rosewater-scented embrace.
“Welcome back to Painswick, Anne. How I’ve missed you.”
“And I you, Miss Lotty. Now, do please sit down and tell me what has happened to you.”
“It’s only a sprain.” Releasing her, the woman gestured to the other occupant of the small parlour, a somewhat older woman with curly ash-grey hair and spectacles. “You may remember my neighbor, Miss Ursula Birt?”
“Of course I do. How good to see you again, Miss Birt.”
“Miss Loveday.”
“Call me Anne, please. And thank you so much, Miss Lotty, for inviting me to stay.”
“My pleasure, my dear. I trust your father could spare you?”
“Yes, rather readily it seems.” Realization struck. “Ah!You were referring to yourself when you wrote, ‘Someone in Painswick could use your help.’”
“Well, actually...” Lotty exchanged a covert glance with Miss Birt. “My needs are small compared to others’.”
“You should have let me know you’d injured yourself,” Anne went on. “I don’t want to inconvenience you.”
“I was afraid you would postpone if I told you. Or insist on fussing over me. This is only a trifle, and I shall be back to full speed in no time. For the present, however, the accommodations here may not be all one might wish. Dinah is a good girl but inexperienced. I haven’t braved the stairs to see what condition the guest room is in.”
“Never mind that. I shall be happy to lend a hand while I’m here. Much pleasanter than chasing toddlers and changing soiled baby cloths all day.”
Miss Birt gave a theatrical shudder. “Horrors.”
“I am fond of my half siblings,” Anne clarified. “Just not the role of nursery maid.”
“There are three children now, is that right?” Lotty asked.
“Four, and a fifth is on the way.”
