Harry found it difficult but with a strained voice he asked, “When I spoke to you the other day about Percy, you said something about guessing that I might have feelings for you.”
“Yes, I remember,” she said, lowering her eyes.
“What made you say that?” he asked fearful of the answer—but also expectant.
She hesitated, not wanting to acknowledge the kiss, but finally answered, “It is difficult to say exactly. Perhaps it was a look. Or it might have been a smile. Or even just a feeling I had. I hope I did not offend you by my comment?”
Anna had answered without showing any passion that he could gauge, and he did not respond for a moment as he studied her demeanor. He finally asked, “And what would you say if I said there might be some truth to what you intuited?”
Anna’s expression softened slightly. “I would say—I would be very honored if that were true.”
“Honored? I see.” Not the answer he was hoping for. “Thank you for answering me. I shall bid you good day, Anna. Unless you need me before, I shall see you at the service.”
“Good day, Harry,” she said, and he turned and left.
* * *
Anna’s heart was racing, and she felt a chill run down her arms. What was happening to her? Had Harry confirmed that he loved her? It was one thing to suspect that, but quite another to have it confirmed. Yes, she loved Harry. She always had—he was her friend, the brother she never had. She could always turn to him and Maria whenever they were needed, and they always responded without hesitation. Of course, he was handsome. She had always known that. He was attractive to her in so many ways. But she had never given any thought to him as a suitor.
And Percy? What had been his claim on her heart? She mused. He too was handsome. He often seemed troubled and somewhat rebellious. But was that not part ofhisattraction? He ignored her. He was distant and, up until now, had seemed unattainable. That made him safe. It was easy to fantasize about him without consequence. He made no demands upon her.
“Oh, my…” she said aloud to herself, still standing at her father’s desk just after Harry left. It was as if a seed had been planted in her mind. She had a great deal to think about on her trip with Dorothy. She was pleased to be leaving Wiltshire. She felt she was on the brink of a new life—an exciting life. And she looked forward with enthusiasm to what might unfold for her in this next chapter.
Chapter 25
The ripening, toast-colored wheat fields—cornflowers poking their sapphire heads above the weeds surrounding each field—shimmered in the intense, late-morning heat. A flock of restless ravens played havoc in the trees surrounding the country church where the Viscount’s memorial service was being held. A foot organ squeezed out a plaintive hymn, supporting the voices of the congregation that drifted from the open windows. The horses, harnessed to the buggies and carriages, were hot and fidgeting. The coachmen and drivers tried to cool their charges by making certain they were under the cover of shade trees, and occasionally poured water over their necks and backs.
It was, perhaps, the hottest day of the summer so far. This made it difficult for the mourners, sitting in the cloistered church and dressed in black, to tolerate the service for very long. The lady’s fans were working at full speed and the gentlemen were mopping their brows with already soaked handkerchiefs. The vicar, sensing their restlessness, skipped several hymns, cut short his homily, and both Anna and Dorothy rushed their father’s eulogies after Lord Hargrove, of the East India Company, spoke at great length about the Viscount’s many virtues.
“Do you think we have enough ice in the icehouse to accommodate all the cooling drinks our guests will be asking for?” Dorothy asked as she and Anna left the church, followed by their guests.
“I certainly hope so. I did not expect it to be this hot. How are you holding up, dear Dorothy? You must be sweltering.”
Dorothy gave her a severe look. “It is this horrid black dress. From now on I shall instruct all my friends and relations to die in the winter.”
Anna laughed. “But then all the roads will be blocked by snow.”
“Then spring or fall. There must be a law passed.”
The sisters were quite unseemly in their laughter, but they cared not. They were giddy from the heat and the emotion of saying goodbye to their father.
The sisters’ carriage led the way back to the Hall. Normally, the guests might have lingered at the church to discuss and remember the departed amongst themselves. However, they were too hot and all longed for refreshment and the coolness of the vast confines of Repington Hall.
Anna and Dorothy made it back before the others by only a few minutes and rushed to the room where the reception was to be held to be ready to welcome the guests and receive their condolences.
Both Anna and Dorothy had their fans and used them liberally when not speaking to one of the arriving guests.
The reception line was long, tedious, and grueling. However, Harry and Maria arrived with their mother and, after settling her in, Harry and Maria came over to the sisters and he offered, “Might I get you some cool refreshment?”
Both Anna and Dorothy looked at him gratefully and they replied, “Oh, yes, please. You are so kind.”
Harry left to get them punch and Maria remained behind to offer moral support to the sisters as they welcomed the rest of the guests.
Finally, the line cleared, and Dorothy said, “I must go to my room for a moment. My dress is drenched, and I need to take it off, fan myself, and put something else on.”
Anna gave her a cautioning look. “But it must be black.” Dorothy scowled. “Or at least, very dark,” Anna relented. “And wear that light-weight, black summer shawl.”
Dorothy looked to see if anyone was looking— and seeing that they were not— stuck out her tongue at her sister and then departed.
