“Come, I brought my dinner, too, so I could dine with you. We’ll hold our plates. It will be good practice for the parties you will be attending where the hostess feeds you, but won’t seat you!”
Now Annette was trying to sound cheerful? There wouldn’t be any parties. Alana was probably going to have to leave this house, too. She couldn’t stay here knowing what she did about Poppie’s past. She’d seek out Lord Chapman. If she wasn’t wrong about his intentions, perhaps she could escalate his courtship and make it brief. Surely she could create some plausible excuse not to delay.
“Alana, please. Talk to me. I’ll mediate for you and your uncle so we can put this situation to rights. You’ll both laugh about being so silly.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever laugh again.”
She said that to herself. She wasn’t even facing Annette. The older woman shouldn’t have heard her. But Alana heard the gasp.
“This isn’t about Adam, is it?”
Alana swung around. “Why would you think that?”
Annette blushed. She looked so pretty. Someone should have snatched her up as soon as her husband died—well, after a decent interval for mourning.
“Because I know what he’s up to,” Annette admitted. “He’s been pursuing an acquaintance with you in an attempt to make me jealous. I’d hoped he’d stop being so foolish so I wouldn’t have to tell you what he’s doing.”
“Did Poppie tell you to say this?” Alana asked suspiciously.
“Certainly not. But your uncle is aware of the situation. I was forced to tell him what I should have told you sooner. Sit down, please. Let me explain.”
More revelations today when she was already drowning in them? But Alana sat next to Annette. She even picked up her plate. Eating was the sensible thing to do, but she wasn’t sure she could manage it with so much turmoil rolling about inside her. Was Lord Chapman about to be removed as an option, too?
“You know I lost my parents,” Annette began. “My cousin was forced to take me in, but she hated having to do so, even for those few years until I came of age. She arranged parties for me. She wanted me to find a husband immediately and be gone from her house. I met Adam at one of those parties. I quickly fell in love with him. And he felt the same way.”
“Then why didn’t you marry him?”
“I thought we would marry. I was so happy. But then he confessed he felt he was too young to marry. That he hadn’t tasted life yet, whatever that meant. I was furious with him. We had a terrible argument. He was breaking my heart because he didn’t want to face responsibility yet? And I couldn’t wait for him even if I wanted to, not with my cousin insisting I accept the first offer that was made.”
“So you married Lord Hensen?”
“Yes, a man I didn’t even like. But at least he was kind. My misery was of my own making because I still loved another man. But then my husband died not even a year into our marriage, and his family showed me the door when they came to rip apart his estate. My cousin wouldn’t take me back again either. I was forced to find a job, but no one would hire me. I was either too young or too pretty. I sold everything I had of value just to get from meal to meal. Your uncle found me crying in the park. I’d just sold the last of my clothes other than what I was wearing. I was facing a life of poverty—or worse. He spoke to me quietly to find out what was wrong. He offered me this job. He gave me back my dignity and peace of mind. He saved me, and I’ll always be more grateful than either of you could know.”
Alana didn’t want to hear how kind Poppie was. It was all a pretense! Annette had no idea—nor would she. Alana could never tell anyone that she’d been raised by an assassin. The founder of an orphanage, the rescuer of genteel ladies, the man who had changed his life to save her from people who wanted her dead—no! Lies, lies, and more lies. What could she believe anymore?
Tears were pouring down her cheeks again. Annette saw them and misunderstood.
“Oh, dearest, he has trifled with your affections, hasn’t he? This is my fault. I should have—”
“What? No, really. Lord Chapman has been very proper and polite. He did mention he’s ready to marry now, but perhaps he hoped I’d convey that to you? Why exactly do you think he’s trying to make you jealous?”
“Because he came here to see me. He begged me to forgive him for his past mistake. He asked me to marry him now. But it’s too late and I told him so. He can’t break my heart and then show up years later and expect to be welcomed with open arms. So he went straight to your uncle and asked permission to court you. I followed him. He was trying to force my hand. I could see it in his expression. And he did, but not as he hoped. I confided in your uncle instead and told him exactly what I’ve told you. He showed Adam the door and warned him not to see you again. But he has. Mary has told me how often he stops you on the street.”
“Which has made you jealous?” Alana guessed. “And prolonged your anger?”
“No, I—” Annette stopped. She looked embarrassed and confused and regretful.
Alana realized now that Lord Chapman had never been interested in courting her. Compared to everything else she’d learned today, it didn’t matter to her all that much. But Alana could see that he meant a great deal to Annette, who hadn’t just been one of her tutors and a chaperone all these years, but also a good friend.
“You should forgive him,” Alana said. “He’s not the man he used to be. He’s ready for responsibility now. He’s ready to make you happy in the marriage you wanted. Don’t throw that away when he loves you and you still love . . . him.”
Alana blanched. You should forgive him. Not the man he used to be. He loves you. Oh, God, what had she done?
She ran out of her room and downstairs. Poppie was still in his office, but standing in the middle of the room. He looked so broken, so pained, as if he’d lost everyone in the world who mattered to him. And he had. She’d done that by condemning him for what he’d done instead of remembering the man he’d become, the one who had atoned for his past in so many different ways.
“I’m sorry!” she cried as she ran to him, right into his open arms. “I didn’t mean to react so—so—”
She couldn’t continue because she was sobbing. Annette, who had followed her downstairs in alarm, quietly closed the door behind them, while Poppie held Alana close, gently soothing her, letting her release all of the emotions that were pent up inside her.
