In Annie’s bewildered mind, it seemed as though every detail was somehow enhanced, like a terrible nightmare from which she could not awaken. She took hold of her father’s hand, the fragile flesh still warm, and pressed it to her cheek as grief swelled like a stone in her throat. “No, Papa, not today. Not like this. It should not be like this.” She then turned to Karl Hoffman. “His eyes, sir. Please. Can they be closed? I cannot bear it.”
He nodded and brushed his hand lightly over her father’s eyes, closing them. “Es ist geschafft, Fraulein,” he said, a moment later. “It is done.”
Chapter Six
Hattie threw backthe curtains in the parlor with a spiritedswish. “We’re going out this morning,” she said. “A walk will do you good.”
Seated in her father’s chair, Annie flinched at the sudden onslaught of daylight and gripped the chair arms. “No, Hattie, I really don’t feel like—”
“It rained earlier, but I stuck my nose out of the kitchen door just now and the skies have cleared. We’re going for a stroll, and I’ll hear no argument.”
“It has been but a fortnight since Papa’s passing.” Annie rubbed her temple, trying to erase an ever-persistent throb. “It is not seemly to go for a stroll.”
“It is not healthy to sit in darkness day after day, starving yourself, either. No wonder you suffer with these constant headaches.”
“I am not starv—”
“Your papa would agree with me, pet, you know he would.” Hattie came to stand before her. “Lord help us, just look at you! Pale as a ghost. Come now. On your feet. You need some fresh air.”
Annie flinched inwardly at the mention of her father, mostly because she knew Hattie’s comment had merit. To embrace any sense of normalcy, however, seemed inappropriate these days. Grief was a demon that clawed mercilessly at her soul while torturing her mind with visions of those final, horrifying moments in the church. Theimage of her father lying lifeless on the cold, stone floor remained disturbingly clear, as did the sound of Leo’s fading footsteps and the church door opening and closing as he left.
She squinted up at her maid. “We live in London, Hattie. Fresh air is not generally in great supply.”
“A change of air then,” Hattie countered. “And as for living in London, that is something else we need to discuss.”
“What do you mean?” Annie frowned. “Where else would I live? I am not even going toconsiderselling the house, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”
Hattie shook her head. “I’m not suggesting any such thing, but a change might be good for you. An extended holiday, if you will. Somewhere quiet, where the airisfresh. You need to recuperate. It’s been such a terrible time of late. The only saving grace is that your father no longer suffers. And he did suffer, Annie, for a good while. You know he did.”
“Yes, that thought has occurred to me as well, but for his life to end the way it did…” Annie dropped her gaze to her lap as she struggled against the familiar threat of tears. “I can neither accept it in my mind nor reconcile it in my heart.”
“Perhaps it was not the only saving grace, after all,” Hattie muttered, seemingly to herself. “At least you didn’t end up married to that scoundrel, wherever he might be.”
Weary to the bone, Annie closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose wondering, for the umpteenth time, how she could have been so easily misled, be so blind to Leo’s charade. His whereabouts remained a mystery, with neither sight nor sound of him since that fateful day. Karl Hoffman had also disappeared, but not before he’d further speculated on the motivation for Leo’s sudden return to England. Learning about Clarence Fairfax’s illness and imminent demise had presented the man with an opportunity. Greed, Karl suggested, was what lured Leopold De Witte to Clarence Fairfax’sfront door.
Marriage to Annie, as far as Leo was concerned, meant the acquisition of a fine house in London and taking control of whatever else had been left to her after her father’s death. As for his setting up a business office in London, Karl highly doubted the claim. Then, vowing to track Leo down, he’d taken his leave of her, though he was apparently acting alone in his resolve.
Given that Leo had shown no intent to harm Annie’s father, the death had been ruled as accidental. Consequently, Leo was not being sought by the authorities for any kind of offense. Annie could not argue that her father had put himself in harm’s way, but she still placed the blame entirely at Leo’s feet, even though Karl Hoffman had incited the situation. True enough, his intervention had resulted in a tragic twist of fate. It had also, however, saved Annie from a potentially disastrous marriage. The difficulty came in trying to reconcile the consequences. A nearly impossible task.
Adding to the heartbreak, and to Annie’s absolute dismay, the awful events of that day had merited a couple of paragraphs inThe Morning Herald. As a result, her father’s funeral had drawn a small crowd of curious onlookers, adding to the number of those who had actually known him and who genuinely wanted to offer their condolences. Till then, Annie would never have considered being veiled in black as a blessing. As it was, the folds of black tulle had allowed her a modicum of privacy as she’d moved through the crowd at the end of her father’s funeral service. Never had she been so relieved to climb into a coach, to close the door against prying eyes. All she wanted to do was go home, where she could retreat from the world until she felt able to face it again. Thankfully, the newspaper report and the response to it had quickly lapsed into the past. Even so, the mere thought of venturing beyond her front door still made her cower inwardly.
“Just a short walk,” Hattie said, in a tone that implied she was notabout to take no for an answer.
Annie set her willfulness aside, heaved a sigh, and gazed up at her maid. “Very well. But under protest.”
Hattie’s expression brightened. “Thank heavens. Come on, then. Let’s tidy you up a little bit.”
A short while later, feeling definitely tidied, Annie stepped out into the June sunshine. Pausing on the step, she breathed in the prominent scents of wet earth and stale smoke. A soft breeze rippled the taffeta of her gown and toyed with the curls peeking out from beneath her matching bonnet. Fiddling with the vinaigrette at the throat, she glanced about, fearful of being seen as an object of curiosity.
“Here, pet.” Hattie snapped open the black lace parasol she carried and handed it to Annie. “There’s no one about, so don’t fret.”
At that precise moment, an elderly couple, walking arm-in-arm, passed by and nodded a silent greeting. Their expressions merely reflected sympathy, prompted, no doubt, by Annie’s black mourning garb. Annie returned the nod and then gave Hattie a scathing look. “Is there something wrong with your eyes, Hattie?”
“What I meant was, there is no one ofnoteabout.” She sniffed and stepped down onto the pavement. “Things have long since calmed down. Come on. Let’s go.”
Instead, struck by a sudden sense of nostalgia, Annie remained where she was and took another unhurried look up and down the street. This was, after all, the backdrop to her life. She had been raised here, had always been happy here.
Across the street, a small brown dog had its gaze fixed on the leafy branches of a nearby plane tree, barking at only he knew what, his little tail wagging furiously. The rhythmic clip-clop of a horse’s hooves next drew her attention, and she watched as a hansom cab passed by, pulled by a fine-looking gray. The cab itself appeared to have but one passenger: a man, his features obscured. The horse’s approach scattered several pigeons that had been strutting about in the middle ofthe road. With a flutter of wings, they rose into the air only to settle back onto the road once the cab had gone on its way. Meanwhile, beyond the sanctity of this pleasant, though unremarkable, street, the city bustled as it always had.
