“You know we appreciate all you’ve done for us, don’t you?” he said, turning to Annabel. “I don’t know what would have happened to them if you’d not been here.” He wiped an emerging tear from the corner of his eye, and Annabel lowered her gaze. She’d never seen a man cry before—certainly not her Papa—and it shocked her to see a rugged sailor succumb to tears. She was glad to see it. Mrs. Taylor was the kindest person she’d ever encountered—aside from Stella—and she deserved a river of tears.
“I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s selfish of me, considering what you’ve been through, being a widow.”
Annabel pressed her lips together. Now, she felt ashamed that she’d taken on the identity of a widow. How foolish of her to have been excited about the freedoms it afforded her. She hadn’t thought about how experiencing the death of a spouse would have been horrible—at least if the marriage was a love match like the Taylors.
But she’d done what was necessary. She’d done right to run from that dangerous arrangement Papa had made for her.When I marry, it will be to a man who loves me as much as Mr. Taylor loves his wife.
Rupert dropped his wooden ponies and clutched Annabel’s dress.
“Why don’t you go outside and get some fresh air?” Mr. Taylor reached for his child and scooped him off Annabel’s lap.
Rupert gurgled and buried his head in his papa’s neck. He was a sweet-natured baby who went smiling and trustingly into everyone’s arms. Annabel supposed a baby who’d only known love and never had to fear adults would do so. She’d seen some sad sights on the street of Canterbury—starving children, carrying their infant siblings, forced to beg. It tore at her heart every time, knowing she didn’t have enough coins to help them all.
“I can take Rupert out for a walk,” she offered.
“No, you need some time to yourself, and little Rupert, here, needs to spend some time with his papa.” He kissed the child’s cheek.
“I suppose I could go to the ladies’ college. If I hurry, I can still make the morning class.”
“School?” Mr. Taylor shook his head. “You’re a funny lass, you are.”
Annabel would have preferred to take a hansom cab than walk the mile-long stretch outside the city to the school, but she didn’t think it prudent to waste money when her future was uncertain. Mr. Taylor had insisted on repaying the advance she’d given them on the rent, and she felt too guilty to spend money on luxuries, knowing how his family suffered from having to close their shop, something for which she felt partially responsible.
As soon as she entered the iron gates that surrounded the college grounds, Annabel’s thoughts turned to Henry. They hadn’t seen each other since the night Mrs. Taylor and Rupert had fallen ill two weeks before. She’d missed three classes and was too beset with work and worry to send a message to Henry.
Now she realized he hadn’t even come looking for her. She vaguely remembered him saying he would like to take her to tea again, but she couldn’t be sure. It all seemed so long ago. She wondered how he would react to seeing her again. Did he think she’d been avoiding him? Perhaps Henry had inquired after her and learned about the illness that plagued the family where she lodged. She couldn’t blame him if he thought it best to keep his distance.
Annabel sighed as she entered the main building, quite possibly for the last time. What did it matter what Henry thought now that she was moving away? She hoped they would part as friends, but she’d likely never see him again.
The college’s interior, like its exterior, was all stone, which gave it the appearance of a dungeon—or at least what Annabel imagined a dungeon would look like. But an effort had been made to warm the area with navy blue velvet curtains, yellow armchairs, and fresh flowers in the lobby. Two busts—one of Shakespeare and one of Canterbury’s very own Kit Marlow—sat at the foot of the stairs. Annabel walked down the long stretch of hallway that housed several rooms. She’d never ventured upstairs but heard that the science laboratory and library were on the first floor.If only I could…she bit her lip.What use is it to wish?
She wished her mama had not died during childbirth, she wished her papa loved her better, she wished her stepmother hadn’t allowed her ambitions to rule her heart, she wished Stella did not have to hide away in Italy, she wished Mrs. Taylor had made a full recovery, and she wished she could go back in time and change the events of that night—but she could not.
The free class had already begun, and Annabel faced a closed door. She knocked softly and waited. The prospect of seeing Henry again aroused a nervous excitement within her. Perhaps it was time to stop wishing and look forward to a better future.
“Mrs. Crawford. How wonderful to see you again.” Headmistress Thomas greeted her with a warm smile.
Annabel stepped inside and scanned the room. The students sat with their heads bent over their notebooks, some paused in thought, and others made slow movements with their quills as they wrote in their composition books.
Annabel’s heart sank. Henry was nowhere to be seen.
Chapter Fifteen
Drowned, drowned.
—Shakespeare,Hamlet
Stokeford Manor, Dorset
Body fished from Thames, suspected to be Daughter of Confectionary Giant, Bernard Leonard
“Have you seen this?” Hobsworth thrust a newspaper at Henry as he entered the lavish dining room.
He took the newspaper from Hobsworth and frowned. “I thought she ran off to Scotland with her lover. Isn’t that what they reported a few weeks ago?”
“Yes, it is. And can you imagine what that did to Craventhorp’s pride—being jilted by a commoner?”
“You think he murdered her?”
