He stopped short. She wasn’t in the bed. “Damnation.”
He strode through the connecting door into the sitting room. It, too, was empty. He heaved a sigh of exasperation. Walking back into his bedroom, he stuck his head out the door and bellowed for Dreary. Then he paced across the room. Where was the woman? The bed was made, the curtains drawn. A fire had burned out on the grate. She must’ve left the room some time ago. He noticed Elizabeth’s red book sitting on the dresser. There was a scrap of paper on top of it.
He started for the book as Dreary entered the room.
“My lord?”
“Where’s Mrs. Wren?” Edward picked up the folded paper. His name was written on the front in Anna’s hand.
“Mrs. Wren? The footmen informed me that she left the house at about ten o’clock.”
“Yes, but where did she go, man?” He opened the note and began to read it.
“That’s just it, my lord. She didn’t say where…” The butler’s voice buzzed in the background as Edward comprehended the words written in the note.
So sorry… must go away… Yours always, Anna
“My lord?”
Gone.
“My lord?”
She’d left him.
“Are you all right, my lord?”
“She’s gone,” Edward whispered.
Dreary buzzed around some more, and then he must have left, because after a while, Edward found that he was alone. He sat in front of a dead fire in his bedroom, alone. But then that was what, until very recently, he’d been most used to.
Being alone.
THE COACH RATTLED and bumped over a pothole in the road.
“Ouch,” Fanny exclaimed. She rubbed her elbow, which had hit the door. “Lord Swartingham’s carriage sure was better sprung.”
Anna murmured an assent, but she really didn’t care. She supposed she should be making plans. Deciding where to go once they reached Little Battleford. Thinking about how to raise some money. But it was terribly hard to think, let alone plan right now. It was much easier to stare out the window of the coach and let it take her where it would. Across from them, the only other occupant of the coach, a spare little man with a gray wig tilted over one brow, snored. He’d been asleep when they began their trip in London and hadn’t woken since, despite the jostling of the coach and the frequent stops. From the smell that emanated from him, a pungent blend of gin, vomit, and unwashed body, he wouldn’t waken if trumpets announced the second coming. Not that she cared very much either way.
“Do you think we’ll be in Little Battleford by night?” Fanny asked.
“I don’t know.”
The maid sighed and plucked at her apron.
Anna felt a brief moment of guilt. She hadn’t told Fanny why they were leaving London when she’d woken her this morning. Indeed, she’d hardly spoken to the girl at all since departing Edward’s town house.
Fanny cleared her throat. “Will the earl be following us, do you think?”
“No.”
Silence.
Anna glanced at the maid. Her brow was puckered.
“I thought you might be marrying the earl soon?” The girl phrased the statement as a question.
“No.”
Fanny’s mouth trembled.
Anna said more softly, “It’s hardly likely, is it? An earl and me?”
“It is if he loves you,” the little maid said earnestly. “And Lord Swartingham does. Love you, I mean. Everyone says so.”
“Oh, Fanny.” She turned her eyes to the window as they blurred.
“Well, it is possible,” the girl insisted. “And you love the earl, so I don’t see why we’re going back to Little Battleford.”
“It’s more complicated than that. I-I would be a liability to him.”
“A what?” Fanny’s mouth scrunched up.
“A liability. A millstone about his neck. I can’t marry him.”
“I don’t know why—” Fanny broke off as the carriage clattered into an inn yard.
Anna seized gratefully on the interruption. “Let’s get out here and stretch our legs.”
Moving past the still-sleeping third passenger, they jumped down from the coach. In the yard, ostlers ran back and forth, tending the team of horses, unloading packages from on top of the coach, and bringing more out to replace them. The driver leaned down from his perch, shouting gossip to the innkeeper. To add to the noise and confusion, a private carriage was also stopped at the inn. Several men were bent over the right near horse, examining its hoof. The animal appeared to have either thrown a shoe or come up lame.
Anna took Fanny’s elbow and moved them both beneath the inn’s eaves so as not to be in the way of running men and boys. Fanny stood on one foot and then the other and finally blurted, “Excuse me, mum. I have to use the necessary.”
Anna nodded and the little maid scurried off. She idly watched the men tending to the lame horse.
“When exactly will the carriage be ready?” a strident voice exclaimed. “I’ve been waiting an hour already in this filthy inn.”
Anna stiffened at the familiar tones. Oh, God, not Felicity Clearwater. Not now. She shrank back against the inn wall, but fate wasn’t pulling its punches today. Felicity walked out of the inn and immediately saw her.
“Anna Wren.” The other woman’s mouth pinched until unbecoming lines radiated from her lips. “Finally.”
Felicity marched up and seized her arm in a commanding grip. “I can’t believe I’ve had to travel almost all the way to London just to talk to you. And I had to cool my heels at this wretched inn. Now listen carefully.” Felicity shook her arm for emphasis. “I don’t want to repeat myself. I know all about your little entanglement at Aphrodite’s Grotto.”
Anna felt her eyes widen. “I—”
“No.” Felicity cut her off. “Don’t try to deny it. I’ve a witness. And I know you met the Earl of Swartingham there. Aiming a bit high, weren’t you? I never would’ve guessed it of a timid little mouse like you.”
For a moment, the other woman almost looked curious, but she recovered and continued before Anna could get her mouth to work.
“That’s neither here nor there. This is the important part.” She shook Anna’s arm again, this time more roughly. “I want my locket and the letter in it back, and if you ever breathe a word about Peter and me, I’ll make sure every single soul in Little Battleford hears about your indiscretion. You and your mother-in-law will be driven out of town. I’ll see to it personally.”