Part 37 (1/2)
”You are not unworthy, Anne,” he told her. ”Maybe they are unworthy of you.” And so was he.
Merrick turned the stallion toward Blackthorn Manor. Anne settled back into the saddle before Merrick. They rode in silence. He savored the feel of her against him. Her sweet scent in his nostrils. A moment in time when nothing separated them, even if tomorrow everything would return to the way it should be. Anne in her grand house. He in the stable. She a lady waiting for all that she deserved in life, all he felt would be hers in time. And he... Well, Merrick wasn't even certain what he was. A man Lady Anne Baldwin should stay far away from. He did know that much.
The fair in Devons.h.i.+re was a grand sight; Stalls of merchants, horse trading, sheep trading, and even a traveling show performed. Anne weaved her way through the crowd, her pace leisurely so that her beloved Bertha could keep up. Her aunt and uncle strolled ahead, dressed as if they visited a grand ball rather than a country fair. Anne had decided upon a simple day frock, modest bonnet, and one of her oldest shawls. She didn't want to stand out in the crowd.
She had too much pent-up energy to play the part of a grand lady today. Since she and Merrick had snuck away into the darkness she'd stayed away from the stable. She was frightened, Anne admitted. Frightened of her feelings for Merrick. No good could come of them, but knowing that didn't seem to stop her from wanting to be with him.
Merrick was here today. He'd left at daybreak, advising her uncle to bet money on him and his stallion in the race. If it weren't for the prospect of making money on a wager, she doubted her aunt and uncle would have wanted to attend the fair at all.
A woman telling fortunes called to Anne as she strolled past. ”Come let me tell your fortune, good lady.”
Bemused, Anne paused at the brightly colored tent. The fortune-teller's eyes were heavily made up. She wore a scarf tied
around her head and a ring on every finger. Anne reached into her reticule and removed a coin. ”This is all I have,” she said,
which was not entirely the truth, but all she had for such silliness as having her fortune told.
The woman s.n.a.t.c.hed the coin and grabbed her hand. She studied Anne's palm. ”You have a long lifeline,” she said. ”But I see trouble ahead in your future.”
Anne supposed most people should expect trouble of some sort or another in their future. She merely smiled at the woman.
”There is a man,” the woman said, looking up at Anne from beneath her lashes. The woman glanced down again, then suddenly
released her hand. Her eyes widened. Her dark complexion paled. ”Beware of the wolf in your stable,” she whispered. ”Stay away from him or bring his curse down upon you both.”
Anne blinked down at the woman. ”Beg your pardon?”
”Go now,” the woman commanded. ”I can do no more than warn you.”
Anne felt cheated, to put it mildly. There was no wolf in her stable and she'd expected to be told she would meet a special man
and have a bright future. It was the sort of thing a woman wanted to hear. Suddenly Anne wondered if the wolf the woman referred to might in fact be a man whom she should avoid.
”Is this wolf in my stable a man or a beast?” she asked the woman.
The fortune-teller shuddered. ”He is both,” she answered, then rose and disappeared into the crowd.
Gooseflesh rose on Anne's arms. She pulled her shawl closer around her.
”There you are, Lady Anne,” Bertha huffed beside her.
”I had lost you in the crowd for a moment and was sorely worried.”
Still unnerved, Anne reached out and squeezed her maid's arm. ”I'm fine. I stopped to have my fortune told.”
Bertha snorted. ”That was a waste of coin. Suppose she told you you'll soon meet a nice young man and have a happy future together. Those types always tell a body what they want to hear.”
Bertha's words only further unsettled Anne. So she had thought, as well. A disturbance farther down the stretch of vendors and
performers drew her attention. Horses churned up dirt in the air. The horse races were about to begin.
”Come, Lady Anne,” Bertha instructed. ”Your aunt and uncle will wonder what's become of us. We're to join them to watch the races and have a nice lunch.”
Anne's maid never missed a meal, which was obvious by her rounded frame. Bertha hurried Anne down the lane toward the meadow where the horse racing would take place. Anne couldn't help but glance over her shoulder toward where she'd last seen the fortune-teller. The woman stood staring after her. Quickly Anne turned away.
She spied her aunt and uncle resting on a blanket spread on the ground. Millicent, her aunt's personal maid, had come along, hefting things from the buggy for her mistress's comfort. The woman knelt upon the blanket unpacking lunch.
”There you are,” Aunt Claire called upon seeing Anne. ”Come and sit, Anne. We are famished.”
Dutiful as always, Anne hurried toward the blanket and seated herself. ”I can't thank you enough again for bringing me today, Uncle Theodore and Aunt Claire. I know you both find these fairs boring, but I am having a wonderful time.”
Absently her aunt reached forward and patted Anne's hand. ”Wish a social engagement would put the sparkle in your eyes and the blush in your cheeks nice this crude affair. Perhaps you were never meant to live the life of a social wife. 'Tis no wonder a suitable gentleman has not offered for you, Anne. You have odd likes for a well-bred girl. You must have gotten that from your mother's side.”
Anne stared down at her clasped hands. ”I'm sorry to be such a disappointment to you, dear aunt,” she said. ”I will try harder to gain the attention of a suitable bachelor when next we visit London.”
”Leave the girl alone,” her uncle fussed. ”We want her to be happy in her match, don't we, lady wife?”
Her aunt patted Anne again. ”Of course we do. Take your time, Anne. There is no hurry.”
Aunt Claire's att.i.tude was strange indeed. Most mothers were so desperate to find suitable matches for their daughters that nothing else was thought of or discussed from the time the girl became old enough to marry. Since her aunt and uncle displayed little actual affection for her, Anne suspected they'd be all too happy to rid themselves of her. Perhaps it was because she'd been so obedient trying to win their love she was not considered much of a burden.
”I should try harder,” she admitted. ”I'll be twenty-one soon, practically considered on the shelf.”
”We thought we would stay in the country until after your birthday,” her uncle piped up. ”We thought you would enjoy it more if you could ride your horse and wander about outside like you love doing.”
Anne was surprised. Her birthday was a good three months off. She couldn't see her aunt spending that length of time away from her London parties and social friends. Anne had in fact thought her guardians might throw her a birthday ball. It would be an opportunity to attract male suitors for her.
”How kind of you,” she said in earnest. ”I do prefer the country over the bustle of London, but I know that both of you prefer our time in the city.”
”It is your birthday,” her aunt said, forgoing the hand patting this time. ”We want you to spend it as enjoyably as possible.”
A bout of tenderness for her aunt and uncle overcame Anne. She supposed she sometimes judged them unfairly. Simply because they were not free with their affections didn't mean they didn't care about her.
”It would make me very happy to spend my birthday in the country.”
”Then it is settled,” her aunt said, eyeing the food her maid had set out for them. ”Let's dine before the horses stir up even more dust and ruin our meal.”