Anna nodded, distracted by the dents in the walls. She walked around, and when she reached the small bed, she noticed the wall just above the bed had been scratched, and it read:I will not be like him.Her fingers traced the words.
“Who?” she whispered to herself. “Your father?” She suspected it was written by Colin, and the only man she could think of was his father, whom she knew nigh on nothing about. Another thing drew her attention, and this time, it was a folded piece of paper stuck between the headboard and the wall. Pulling it out, she unfolded it to find words written in long elegant strokes.
I cannot bear it any longer. The pain is so much that I want to throw myself down the stairs from the topmost floor. End it. Find peace. Surely, I deserve it. But I have to think of him, my sweet little Colin. He should grow with his mother…
The sound of her racing heart flooded Anna’s ears, and her hands trembled. What happened to Colin’s mother? What drove her to have such thoughts?
Chapter 24
Colin’s mother, Dorothy Maxwood, must have met a tragic end. I want to know what happened, and Edinfield did not have any more clues when I searched.
Colin walked into the foyer the afternoon after their arrival and found Anna standing in the center, gazing up at the chandelier above, but as he walked toward her and had a better view of her eyes, he saw that she was not looking up at the chandelier, but the stairs that spiraled around the hall.
His heart rammed against his ribcage.Does she know?“Anna,” he said, his voice chilled.
She turned, her eyes clouded with fear and uncertainty, but the look vanished rather quickly. “You are back early,” she smiled. He had been out inspecting the grounds with Frobisher and the steward.
“Yes, I am.” He went to take her hand. It was a little cold. “What are you doing here?”
“I am fascinated by the stairs.” A nervous giggle followed that, and he began to lead her toward the sitting room.
“You should not be fascinated by them.” He was beginning to regret bringing her here. She had not slept well the night before. He knew this because she had woken him a few times when she tossed about. This place made her uncomfortable. Why should it not? Nathaniel had warned him.
“I have chosen the colors for the drawing rooms,” she said as she sat on a sofa, pointing at the swatches of fabric all around her, “this room, and the nursery.” She met his eyes squarely on the last word.
“Which colors did you choose?” He sat beside her.
“These.” She picked up the pieces of fabric, blue, cream, and gold, and handed them to him. She wanted to say something. He could see it in the way she pursed her lips and eyed him curiously. Anna had found something. He was sure of it.
“Did you enjoy today’s festival?” He kept his tone light.
“I did not go,” she said with a small shrug.
“Why?”
“I was searching the manor.”
Ah, there it is.Colin could see her questions descending upon them. “What were you looking for?”
She took a long breath and shook her head very slowly. “You won’t tell me anything.” Anna took his hand, and the unsettled look in her eyes tore at his heart. “I do not want to stay here. Not without you. Something in this manor frightens me.”
Colin shut his eyes, her words scoring him. He could not do this to her. He drew her into his arms and held her tightly. “Forgive me, Anna. I should never have brought you here. We will leave tomorrow.”
“Thank you.” Her voice was small and vulnerable, and his heart broke.
Three days after their return to Dawnton, Anna sat up and looked down at Colin’s sleeping form. The only time he looked entirely free was when he was asleep. Leaning, she kissed his cheek before slipping out of the bed. She picked up her nightrail from the floor where he had tossed it earlier, and donned it, then she put on a robe and a pair of satin slippers, making sure to take the hairpin that rested on her nightstand and stick it in her hair.
On her way out of the bedchamber, she stroked Nips in his bed made of downy cushions. Anna glanced behind her to make sure Colin was still sleeping before she opened the door, thankful the hinges were perfectly oiled, and left the room.
She picked up a candlestick from a table and proceeded to the banked fire in the hearth at the end of the hall, lighting the candle. Next, she went to Colin’s workroom and made straight for the table on which the object she was interested in lay. Anna picked up the long slim metal with a slightly curved tip. She did not know what Colin used it for, but it would serve her purpose well.
She left the workroom to her final destination, her heart beating a little faster with every step. When she reached the door, she set the candlestick down, removed a pin from her hair, knelt in front of the door, and began working the lock. The object she found in Colin’s workroom was strong enough, and in a shorter time than she anticipated, a click heralding her success came.
She took up the candle, and taking a deep, slow, and fortifying breath, she pushed the door and walked in. Anna did not know what she had expected to find, but it was certainly not a room half-filled with portraits. Shining her light on one of the portraits, she saw a man who looked a lot like Colin. They had the same sandy hair, broad jaw, and strong forehead.
As she inspected the rest of the portraits, she discovered they were all of the same man, and she counted about forty. What sort of man had forty portraits of himself? Now she did not need to be told that he was Colin’s father.
She recalled what Colin had said about one portrait being enough for him. Was this related to what she had seen about him not wanting to be like his father?
