‘You have a name. It’s Anne.’

‘Anne,’ she said. ‘It’s a pretty name. But it doesn’t somehow sound quite right…’

‘It will do for the moment,’ James said firmly.

‘There’s something else, Lord Aldhurst…’

‘What is it?’

‘You said…you told that doctor that he might be in danger if he took me in. What did you mean?’

‘I didn’t want an argument about where you should stay, that’s all.’

She shook her head. ‘Please be honest with me! What are these marks on my wrist? I have been tied up, haven’t I?’

‘It looks like it.’

‘So there is danger…I knew it. I have this feeling…of some kind of threat…But I don’t know what it is!’ She held her head in her hands. After a few moments she looked up again. ‘Why can’t I remember?’

James heard the beginning of panic in her voice and said, ‘Stop! It won’t do you any good, Anne. And you can forget about danger. I told you last night—you’re perfectly safe here. Or…do you not trust me?’

‘Of course I trust you. I have to. There’s no one else.’

Reawakening Miss Calverley
Sylvia Andrew

www.millsandboon.co.uk

SYLVIA ANDREW has an Honours Degree in Modern Languages from University College, London, and before ending up as Vice-Principal of a large comprehensive sixth form college taught English for foreigners in Switzerland, Cambridge and in Compton Park, an international finishing school for young ladies, which was housed in a beautiful country mansion leased from the Devonshire family. The house and grounds have provided inspiration for several settings in her novels. She and her husband Simon now live in a small market town in the west of England, which is full of the Georgian architecture they both love. And just a few miles from their home is the marvellous Dorset Jurassic Coast World Heritage Site. In 2000 Sylvia wrote a historical celebration of the town’s splendid fifteenth-century parish church in a millennium son et lumière, which was a great success.

She and Simon belong to the Georgian Group, the National Trust and English Heritage, all of which help them to satisfy their love of historic houses and wonderful landscapes. Simon lectures all over the place on architecture and wild orchids, while Sylvia tries to do nothing, and usually fails, since she is heavily involved in the local museum. She just can’t keep away from old maps, newspapers, photographs and census returns! Her other passion is theatre performances of Shakespeare. She and Simon have one married daughter, whom they visit quite often, and a very precious grandson called Joe.

Novels by Sylvia Andrew:

LORD CALTHORPE’S PROMISE

LORD TRENCHARD’S CHOICE

COLONEL ANCROFT’S LOVE

A VERY UNUSUAL GOVERNESS

THE BRIDEGROOM’S BARGAIN

MISS WINBOLT AND THE FORTUNE HUNTER

And in the Regency series The Steepwood Scandal:

AN UNREASONABLE MATCH

AN INESCAPABLE MATCH

Chapter One

Asudden gust of wind blew a spatter of rain into James Aldhurst’s face. He pulled up the collar of his greatcoat and rode on, cursing in turn the weather and his own stupidity. If he had had a grain of common sense he would now have been sitting before a roaring fire in Norris’s inn on the Portsmouth Road, a glass of the landlord’s famous punch in his hands, and every prospect of a good dinner for himself and Sam Trott. And a comfortable bed to follow. Instead, for the last hour or more he and Sam had been battling against wind and rain, picking their way through mud and stones loosened by the storm, as they rode along the narrow lane leading to Hatherton. He should have paid more heed to Norris’s warnings. This was no night to be out. Behind him he could hear his groom grumbling under his breath, no doubt saying much the same to himself. Why on earth had he allowed his grandmother to send him here at this time of year? Here he was, riding through probably the worst storm for years, and wishing with all his heart that he had ignored her and waited for better weather.

After a few minutes he noticed with relief that they were passing the crossroads that lay only a mile or so before the entrance to Hatherton. Before long this nightmare journey would be over and he would be enjoying the usual warm welcome from his grandmother’s household, people who had known him all his life. His gloom lifted for a moment as a shaft of moonlight broke through the clouds. It could be a sign that the storm was at last easing. They quickened their pace, and it wasn’t long before they were encouraged by the sight of a familiar drive leading off to the right. ‘Cheer up, Sam!’ James shouted as they turned into it. ‘Another ten minutes and we’ll be home and dry.’

The groom was not mollified. ‘Home, mebbe. It’ll take more ‘n that to get me and the horses dry, Master James. Soaked through we are.’

The clouds were clearing more rapidly as they rode on along the avenue of trees, and the wind and rain eased. Visibility improved, and it was just as well. The horses had to pick their way through a mass of debris brought down by the storm. In places the drive was almost blocked by broken branches. They rode on slowly, concentrating on negotiating their way through, but when they were not more than a few hundred yards from the house James saw an obstruction on the road ahead, which was clearly not a branch. In fact, it looked like nothing so much as a heap of sodden rags. What was it, and what the devil was it doing on the drive? He pulled up his horse, jumped down and walked on a few paces. Sam joined him, and after an amazed glance at each other they bent down to look more closely. It was a body, and though it was lying face down in a bundle of wet clothes, it could be seen that it was the body of a woman.

‘Dead, is she?’ asked Sam.

‘Dead, or unconscious. Let’s see.’

James bent down, gently turned the woman over, and smoothed back the tangled locks of hair covering her face. He caught his breath. In the cold white light of the moon the face could have been carved in marble, its exquisite purity marred by a dark line running down from her temple.

‘I think she’s still alive,’ he said slowly. ‘But it’s too damned dark to be certain. We’ll have to take her up to the house.’

‘She’s had a nasty bang on the head,’ said Sam.

‘Yes, we’ll have to handle her carefully, but we must move her—she can’t stay here. I’ll carry her. You bring the horses.’

Not without difficulty, for her wet clothes were heavy and cumbersome, James took the woman up into his arms and set off for the house, now just a short walk away.

An elderly housekeeper met them at the door. ‘There you are, my lord! I didn’t hardly expect to see you in this weather. Come in, come in. I’ve got a nice fire going in the—’ She stopped abruptly. ‘Gracious me, Master James, who is that? Mercy on us, don’t tell me you’ve had an accident. Whatever has happened?’

‘Never mind that for the moment, Cully! Where did you say the fire was? In here?’ He nodded to Sam, who hurried over to open the door on the right of the hall. A huge fire was burning in the hearth, a large damask-covered sofa on either side. James put his burden down gently on one of them. Mrs Culver gave a cry and bustled forwards, exclaiming, ‘Whatever are you thinking of, sir? That sofa will be ruined! Just look at the mud on the woman’s boots—and her clothes are soaking wet!’

James ignored the comment. He took off his overcoat and handed it to the groom, then brought a lamp over and put it on a table by the sofa. ‘She’s just a girl! Sam, get one of the other grooms to see to the horses. You go to fetch Dr Liston. Mrs Culver, have a fire lit in one of the bedrooms, if you please, and tell the maids to make up the bed. And put out one of Lady Aldhurst’s nightgowns.’

‘But, sir—’

‘Don’t waste time, Cully!’ James said, carefully removing the girl’s heavy boots and rubbing her feet. ‘She needs warmth and attention. Come back here after you’ve told the maids what to do. Bring one of them with you to help. Wait! You’d better bring some blankets with you, too.’

The housekeeper drew a breath, saw further protest was useless, and left the room stiff with disapproval, still shaking her head and grumbling. After she had gone, James fetched a shawl which was draped over the other sofa, put it over the girl and knelt down beside her. She was lying motionless, barely breathing. The sooner she was in a warm bed the better, but he was reluctant to disturb her more than he had to before the surgeon had seen her. Liston lived not far away—he should be here shortly.

He studied the girl’s face, starkly white against the rich fabric of the sofa, her eyelashes a dark fringe against her cheeks. He was concerned to see that the wound on her temple was still oozing blood, and fetched a napkin from the side-table to wipe it carefully away. She groaned and stirred restlessly, and he held his breath. Then her eyes flew open, large eyes, widely spaced, startlingly, vividly blue, twin pools of colour in that white face. She looked at him apprehensively, then, after several attempts to speak, she whispered, ‘Who…who are you?’

His deep voice was calm. ‘My name is James Aldhurst. This is my grandmother’s house. We found you lying unconscious outside in the rain, and I gathered you up and brought you in here.’ She seemed to be looking for reassurance and he added, ‘Don’t worry. You’re quite safe.’

She shut her eyes and said, ‘My head hurts. I think I fell…I was running…I couldn’t get up the bank…’ Her eyes flew open again and this time they were filled with panic. She struggled to move, but gave up with a cry of despair. ‘I can’t…My head! Oh, my head! But I have to…’ Clawing at his arm, she said, ‘Help me! Please help me! Don’t let them catch me! Please!’

The desperation in her voice startled him. He took hold of her hand. ‘I told you. You’re safe here. I shan’t let them find you. Lie still. The surgeon will be here very soon to look at you, and if he says you can be moved we shall make you more comfortable. But you must stay still for the moment.’ The blue eyes stared into his, then she gave a small nod, winced and closed her eyes again. Her hand fell away from his.

James looked at her anxiously. The hand had been icy. Where was Liston? And why was Mrs Culver taking so long? He went to take the girl’s hand again to warm it, but was shocked into an exclamation when he saw a band of rubbed skin, red and sore, encircling the slender wrist. He picked up the other hand and it was the same. He replaced them both carefully under the shawl and frowned. This girl had evidently been tied up till quite recently, and her bonds had been cruelly tight. What had been going on? Who was she? How had she come to be lying in the middle of his grandmother’s drive at eight o’clock on a storm-driven night? He shook his head and got up impatiently. The answers to those questions must wait. What was needed at the moment was help for the poor wretch! Where the devil was Mrs Culver? He went into the hall and shouted.

Mrs Culver came down the stairs followed by a maidservant struggling with a quantity of blankets. Almost in the same moment the house door opened, and Sam appeared, accompanied by Dr Liston.

‘Thank God! Come this way, Liston. We need you too, Mrs Culver. Thank you, Sam. You’d better go and change out of those wet clothes.’

The surgeon followed James into the room and they went over to the sofa. But, after telling the maid to stay with the surgeon while he examined his patient, Mrs Culver drew James to one side and spoke to him firmly in a low voice. ‘Your lordship, I’ve known you since you were a boy and witnessed a good many of your pranks. I’ve even saved you once or twice from their consequences. I’ll be frank with you, sir. Your grandmother trusts me to look after this house when she’s away. I’m not sure she’d approve of what’s going on here tonight. This young woman—who is she?’

‘I don’t know, Cully. Sam and I found her lying on the drive not far from the house. What would you have had me do? Leave her there?’

‘You didn’t need to bring a beggar woman like her into your grandmother’s sitting room! She might even be a gipsy! I don’t like to think what Lady Aldhurst would say. And here you are, ruining her furniture with that girl’s wet clothes and muddy boots, putting her in one of the best bedrooms, giving her your grandmother’s clothes to wear, calling Dr Liston out at this time of night to see to her…What has come over you?’

‘She’s no beggar, Cully. She’s in some kind of trouble, but she’s no beggar. There’s a mystery here and I intend to get to the bottom of it, but before that we must keep her alive. Is the bedroom ready? If Liston gives the word, I’d like to take her upstairs.’ He turned back to the sofa, and Dr Liston straightened up, looking grave.

‘As far as I can tell there’s no serious damage apart from that bang on the head—but it was a hefty one.’ He gave James a strange look. ‘Her wrists…’

‘I’ve seen them.’

The surgeon nodded. ‘Sam tells me you found her lying on the drive, and from the look of her I’d say she had been there for some time.’ He shook his head. ‘I

don’t know, Lord Aldhurst. I don’t know. I can’t do any more for her tonight, but I’ll come back tomorrow morning. For now she needs a warm bed with hot bricks and blankets, and complete rest. It’s quite likely she’ll develop a fever. I’ll send my man over with a paregoric draught, and if she is restless you could try giving her some of that. But my best advice would be to give her water, nothing more. And keep her well wrapped up.’ He shook his head. ‘We shall have to see.’

James nodded. ‘There’s a bed ready for her. Mrs Culver?’

The housekeeper had been looking at the girl, who was now lying white and still, a vivid bruise on her temple. ‘She looks very ill, it’s true, the poor thing. We’ll put her to bed. I’ll have one of the men carry her upstairs.’

‘I’ll carry her up,’ said James. ‘She needs gentle handling.’

Mrs Culver pursed her lips, but said nothing, and, signing to the maidservant to follow her, she set off up the broad staircase. ‘We’ve put your…guest in the green bedroom, my lord,’ she said, at her most formal. Mrs Culver had not yet been won over, and wished him to know it, but she would keep her opinions to herself in front of the younger servants. ‘If your lordship would put her on the bed, Rose and I will see to the rest.’ And, before he could say anything, she went on, ‘We will handle her as gently as we can, my lord, never fear.’ She waited till James had put the girl down, then firmly ushered him out of the room. ‘I shall let you know when we have finished,’ she said as she shut the door.

James went along to his own bedchamber where one of the servants was waiting with dry clothing, but he hardly noticed what the man was doing. His mind was full of the girl he had just rescued. During that brief moment of consciousness she had appealed to him so desperately, had clung to him as if he was her only hope. Why was she so afraid?

He waited impatiently for word from Mrs Culver, and when it came he wasted no time but went along straight away to the green bedroom. They had bathed the girl’s face and hands and put her in one of his grandmother’s lace-trimmed nightgowns. Her wrists were neatly bandaged and lay on top of the covers, which were otherwise pulled up around her. She was quite still, her eyes closed.

‘She shouldn’t be left alone,’ said Mrs Culver. ‘I’ll have one of the maids sit with her tonight.’

‘It’s all right, Cully. I’ll stay.’

‘You can’t do that, my lord! It’s not fitting—’

‘Cully, you might as well save your breath,’ James said impatiently. ‘You’ve known me long enough to know when I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to sit with that girl tonight. She might recover consciousness at any time, and I must be there when she does. Mine is the only face here she might recognise.’

‘How would she do that, my lord?’

‘She was conscious for a moment or two while you were upstairs, and I spoke to her. She was frightened out of her life. She is obviously in some danger—you must have seen her wrists before you bound them up.

Now don’t argue with me. Just inform all the servants that they are not to talk about our visitor to anyone—anyone at all. Until we know more of the circumstances her presence here must be kept secret. Understood?’

When James spoke in that particular tone, Mrs Culver knew better than to argue. ‘Very well, my lord, I’ll make sure they hold their tongues. I’ll send a maid to you in a while to see if there’s anything you need.’ She went out, closing the door softly behind her.

James adjusted the lamp so that its light did not fall on the figure on the bed, and sat for a while, studying the girl’s face in the dim light. Not conventionally pretty. A short, straight nose, a generous mouth, beautifully modelled cheekbones…The chin was a little too determined for prettiness. She lay so still—what would animation do to that face? Would she simper at him as much as most of the girls he met nowadays? He rather thought not. There was intelligence in the brow and firmness in the line of her jaw. If anything, she might be a touch too independent for most men…

He shook his head and got up impatiently. What nonsense! How could he possibly judge any girl’s character, just from the sculpted lines of a face as white and as motionless as the pillow behind? When she recovered she would probably prove to be no different from all the rest…He stood for a moment, looking down at her. The movement of the covers was almost imperceptible, but there was enough to reassure him. She was breathing.

He walked over to the window. The storm was now quite over, and the fields and hedges were silvered with moonlight. Nothing stirred. He wondered what his grandmother would say if she knew he was standing here in the middle of the night keeping watch over a sick girl, a perfect stranger? Something trenchant, no doubt. She had been annoyed enough with him before he left. Those damned newspapers! He stared at the scene outside with unseeing eyes, even forgot the girl in the bed behind him. He was back in London in his grandmother’s room in London. She was sitting as always in her chair by the window looking out over Brook Street…

The Dowager Lady Aldhurst was an upright figure with a silver-topped cane in her right hand. Tiny as she was, she dominated the room. She was wearing black as usual, but her dress was trimmed with a collar of Alençon lace, and a very pretty cap of the same lace covered her beautifully arranged frosted-black hair. A cashmere shawl was draped over her arms. On a small table next to her chair was a glass of Madeira, together with a plate of small biscuits and a pile of papers, on top of which was a copy of the Gazette.

When James came in she greeted him with no particular warmth, but her expression softened as he walked towards her with his characteristic easy stride. Tall, broad shouldered, with dark grey eyes and black hair, he was the image of the man she had loved and married more than fifty years before, and he had always held a special place in her affections. As James bent to kiss her cheek he smiled appreciatively as he caught a delicate trace of perfume.

‘I see you’re wearing the cap I gave you, ma’am,’

he said as he sat down. ‘It suits you. I swear you look younger every day!’

His grandmother was not to be mollified. ‘No thanks to you, sir!’ she snapped.

He smiled ruefully. ‘What have I done this time, Grandmama?’

‘It’s what you haven’t done!’ She picked up the copy of the Gazette. ‘Between the social announcements and the gossip I have never read the Gazette and the rest with so little pleasure. Read that, if you please!’

James took the paper and read, ‘“Lord Paston has announced his daughter’s engagement to the Honourable Christopher Dalloway…”’ He raised an eyebrow and, handing the paper back to her, said with a puzzled frown, ‘I wish the happy couple every joy, but I am not sure what it is supposed to mean to me, nor why it should cause you such displeasure…’

His grandmother glared and took the paper back from him. ‘That isn’t all,’ she said angrily. ‘Read down the page, sir! Look at the other announcements! Sarah Carteret is to marry someone I’ve never heard of—her mother won’t be pleased about that! And next month Mary Abernauld will marry Francis Chantry—’

This time his tone was more cynical. ‘So Mary is to be a Countess? I hope her father knows what he is doing. Chantry gambled away his first wife’s inheritance in pretty much record time—let’s hope he doesn’t lose his new one’s fortune as quickly.’

‘Arthur Abernauld is no fool, James,’ said his grandmother. ‘He’ll have seen to it that he won’t!’ Then she snapped, ‘Don’t try to change the subject! I haven’t asked you in to talk about the Abernaulds!’

‘I’m relieved to hear you say so. They’re a tedious lot. What did you want to see me about—apart, of course, from the pleasure of my company?’

She tapped the paper with her finger. ‘It’s this. Did Barbara Furness tell you she was going to Scotland? According to the Gazette, her parents are taking her for a prolonged stay at Rothmuir Castle. Does this mean she has given up waiting for you to make her an offer and intends to accept the Marquess after all?’

James leaned back in his chair with a lazy smile. ‘That is something you would have to ask the lady.’ When Lady Aldhurst simply held his eye and waited in silence he added, ‘Surely I don’t need to tell you, of all people, that Lady Barbara has never expected an offer from me. What is more, I don’t believe she would have accepted me if I had made one.’

His grandmother looked grave. ‘That’s not the impression you were giving the world, James.’ She poked her stick at the sheets still lying on the table. ‘And it’s not what the scandal sheets are saying, either. According to them, she has left London with a broken heart. Is that true?’

‘Let me see.’ James picked up the offending newspaper, but after a quick glance he murmured, ‘Barbara has been busy! So this to be my punishment!’

‘Is it true?’

James got up and said impatiently, ‘Of course it isn’t! Barbara is simply playing one of her tricks. She was furious when I told her she was behaving badly to a friend of mine, and thinks she can pay me back through this piece of nonsense. Lady Furness insisted on taking her daughter to Scotland, but I’ll be amazed if Barbara isn’t back in London before the month is out, heart whole and perfectly free of any engagement. Why on earth do you read such unedifying rubbish?’ He looked at his grandmother, and said, surprised, ‘You surely don’t believe it?’

‘I no longer know what to believe, James. And you can stop towering over me like that. Sit down, sir! Sit down and look at me!’

His jaw tightened and for a moment it looked as if he would refuse. Then their eyes met and he shrugged his shoulders and sat down. His grandmother thought for a moment and then said slowly, ‘I can see you’re annoyed with me. You think I’m an interfering old woman, and I suppose you’re right. But I care about you, and I care even more for the good name of the Aldhursts. It’s an old name and a highly respected one, and I am not prepared to see it bandied about in newspapers such as these.’

‘Why the devil does the world have to take such an interest in my affairs?’

‘Oh, come, James! You must know that you’ve been regarded as one of London’s most eligible bachelors ever since you were old enough to enter society. Lady Barbara is only one of a large number of girls whose names have been linked with yours in the past year or two. Three others are also in that newspaper—Mary Abernauld, Sarah Carteret and the Paston chit. You are acquiring a reputation, James.’

‘Really, ma’am, I thought you had better sense. You more than anyone must know what it is like. I have only to dance once with a girl, or happen to be more than once in the same room with her, or even raise my hat to her in the street, for the gossips’ tongues to start wagging. I hardly knew the Carteret girl. Our so-called affair was only ever in the girl’s imagination, fed by her mother’s ambition. I never remotely considered asking her to marry me.’

She shook her head. ‘You have never to my knowledge remotely considered asking anyone to marry you.’ She put the Gazette back on the table with a sigh. ‘Three of London’s most desirable young women—four with the Paston girl—all well born, all well bred and all passably good-looking. And now they are all about to marry someone else.’ She gave a frustrated tap on the floor with her stick. ‘You’ve known Barbara Furness a long time. I had such high hopes of her.’

‘She was John’s friend, not mine.’

‘But John is dead and you are alive. You could well have made a match of it. Now you’ve lost her to Rothmuir, who must be fifty if he’s a day! What stopped you? Is there some truth in what they are all saying? That you think no woman is good enough for you?’

James was offended. He said curtly, ‘You must know me better than that! Of course that’s not true!’ He turned away from her and gazed out of the window.

Lady Aldhurst said more gently, ‘Then what is it, James?’

He shook his head. ‘I’ve been introduced to innumerable girls since I came out of the army. They all seem such polished articles. They’ve been trained to smile, but not too much, to converse, but not too wittily, to play an instrument, but not too brilliantly. They have been to the best dressmakers, the best milliners, and they have without exception been taught every trick of proper deportment. So much effort in pursuit of a suitable match…’

He paused and turned round to look at her. ‘The trouble is, ma’am, there is so little to distinguish one from another.’ He corrected himself. ‘No, Barbara Furness is different. She is a minx, but she at least makes me laugh…John loved her, and since he died I have very occasionally wondered whether she and I could tolerate one another enough to make a marriage work.’

‘Well then—why not Lady Barbara?’

‘The feeling didn’t last. She is beautiful enough, and she amuses me, but I want more than that from a wife. I’d rather not marry at all than feel nothing more than amusement or a somewhat lukewarm regard for the woman I intend to share the rest of my life with.’

‘But you must marry, James! You owe it to the family. You’re the last of us now that John has gone. You must have some sons. Or do you intend to let the line die out altogether?’

There was a long silence during which James continued to watch the carriages and horses, the vendors and servants passing in a constant stream up and down Brook Street. At last he said with a touch of bitterness, ‘You’re right, of course. I owe it to the family. When John died I “owed it to the family” to give up the Army career I loved. After my father died I “owed it to the family” to spend months rescuing our estates—Charterton, Aldhurst, Baldock and the rest—after he had neglected them for years.’

‘You haven’t mentioned the most important. You haven’t mentioned Roade.’

‘I haven’t been to Roade. I dislike the place,’ he said curtly.

‘Your grandfather and I loved it, James.’

After another pause he turned round and said grimly, ‘And now I suppose you think I owe it to the family to secure its survival.’

‘Quite right! You’ve waited far too long as it is. You need to marry.’

‘You know, ma’am, I was fool enough to hope that one day I would find someone special—the sort of woman who would mean as much to me as you meant to my grandfather. But I’m beginning to think she doesn’t exist.’

For a moment Lady Aldhurst looked her age. But before James could utter another word she had pulled herself together, and was at her most astringent as she said, ‘That is, of course, a pity, and I am sorry for it. But I’ve waited long enough to see you settled. It’s time you found someone to marry even if she isn’t your ideal. The Season will be on us in a month. There’s bound to be a suitable bride among this year’s crop of débutantes. You must make up your mind to choose one!’

He smiled ruefully. ‘They are all so…so young, ma’am.’

‘Most debutantes are, James,’ said his grandmother drily. She regarded him for a moment, then said in a softened tone, ‘There’s always a chance that one of them will suit you better than you think. Here’s one who might be different.’ She picked the paper up again, and read out, ‘“Sir Henry Calverley, one of the government’s most senior diplomats, is returning shortly to London in order to take part in this year’s London Season. It is understood that he wishes to present his daughter, Miss Antonia Calverley, at the Court of St James. Miss Calverley should prove an interesting addition to London society. She left England when she was a child and has since then been her father’s constant companion, helping him in his work and mixing with some of the most distinguished families in Europe.” Now there’s a girl who could interest you. You cannot say she will be your average debutante.’

‘No,’ he said moodily. ‘She’s probably full of stories about life in the highest circles. And, if she is so used to managing matters for her father, she will probably expect to manage a husband as well. That doesn’t sound like the one for me!’

Lady Aldhurst looked at her grandson thoughtfully for a moment, then seemed to make up her mind. ‘I can see how open-minded you are in your search for a wife, James,’ she said drily, ‘but before you start, I think you should pay a visit to Hatherton. You haven’t been there for ages, and Mrs Culver and the rest of the servants would be very happy to see you. And you can take a look at Roade House while you are there. Talk to your people. It wouldn’t do any harm to you or your reputation to get out of London for a week or two—a month even. There would still be time for you to be back here before the Season gets fully under way.’

‘I suppose you think I really ought to stay at Roade.’

‘I would not dream of suggesting anything of the sort! The place has been shut up for so many years that it would take an army to make it fit for anyone to spend even a night there, let alone a week or two. No, you must stay at Hatherton. And, while Mrs Culver and the rest are making their usual fuss of you, you can visit Roade and see what needs to be done to it. It is, after all, your chief place of residence, and when you do marry I hope you and your wife and children will live there.’

She shook her head at him, and then put out her hand. ‘Go, James. A visit to Hatherton and Roade might give you a purpose in life, help you to see your future in a more positive light.’

Chapter Two

James had hesitated. Then he had recalled the many happy times he had enjoyed at Hatherton Grange. It was a relatively unpretentious country house, but Aldhursts had lived in it for three hundred years before his great-grandfather had built Roade House on higher ground a mile or so away. After his grandfather had died his grandmother had left Roade to move down to Hatherton and had made it her own. Its servants and tenants were all fiercely loyal to her, and many of them were old friends of James, too. He and his brother John had been brought to live with her there after she had discovered that her two small grandchildren had been left behind at Roade, while their parents travelled abroad.

At Hatherton he and John had learned to ride and shoot under the strict supervision of Tom Gage, his grandmother’s gamekeeper and chief groom. Mrs Culver, her housekeeper, had bound up their injuries, looked after them during childhood illnesses, and scolded them after their many escapades. And his grandmother had given them the love his parents had denied them. Hatherton had always held a special place in his affections. It should be a good place to come to terms with the life ahead of him.

So he had looked at his grandmother and nodded. ‘Very well,’ he had said. ‘I’ll go.’

But when he had set out from London that day he hadn’t expected to be sharing the house with a mysterious stranger, let alone a young woman! Where had she come from? The road to his grandmother’s house was an unfrequented lane; their nearest neighbours were four miles away, and the Portsmouth Road was several miles to the west. And how had she come by that ugly bruise on her head? The rope burns on her wrists?

He turned to look at her and saw that her eyes were open. ‘You’re still here.’ Her voice was a thread of sound. He came over to the bed and sat down.

‘Are you warm?’

She frowned. ‘Too warm. Water? Please?’

Mrs Culver had left a pitcher on the chest by the bed. He poured a little water into the glass beside it, raised her slightly and held it to her lips. But she had taken no more than a sip when her eyes closed.

‘Who are you?’ he asked softly.

He thought that she hadn’t heard him, but then, ‘I’m An…’ she began. She stopped and a small frown wrinkled her brow. After a moment she tried again. ‘I’m An…’ There was another pause, longer this time. ‘I know who you are,’ she said at last. ‘You said I was safe here.’ He nodded and she gave a small sigh. ‘I’m An…’

‘Anne who?’

Her head moved restlessly on the pillow. ‘I don’t…’

‘It doesn’t matter.’ He put his hand reassuringly over hers. ‘You can tell me later. And you are safe here, I promise.’

‘I know. Your name is James Aldhurst. This is your grandmother’s house.’ Her eyes opened. ‘Where is she?’

‘She isn’t here. She’s in London.’

She closed her eyes again and seemed to fall asleep. Thankfully, he tucked the covers round her and relaxed. After a while one of the maids came in to see if he needed anything. She offered to sit with the girl for a while too, but James refused. The frantic appeal in the girl’s eyes, the way she had clung to him, had touched him, and he intended to be there when she woke again.

The girl slept quietly for an hour or two, but after a while began to mutter and turn her head restlessly on the pillow again. James had to replace the covers as she tried to push them from her, but she protested, ‘No, don’t! I’m too…hot. Too hot. Thirsty…’ When he lifted her again and gave her a sip of water his heart sank as he realised that she was burning with heat. She was muttering incoherently, but he caught the word London several times. Then she opened her eyes and said quite clearly, ‘I must go to London! Now!’

‘You can’t go anywhere at the moment. You’ve hurt your head. You must rest.’

She resisted his efforts to put her back on the pillow and cried, ‘But there isn’t time, I tell you. You mustn’t stop me. Let me go, let me go!’ Eyes bright with fever and cheeks flushed with two spots of brilliant colour, she pushed his hand away with unexpected force and struggled to sit up. When he put an arm out to hold her back she grew even more agitated and shouted, ‘You can’t stop me! I won’t let you keep me here!’ Thrusting the covers back, she scrambled to get out of the bed, but before her foot even touched the ground she gave a cry and if James had not caught her she would have fallen to the floor. He could feel the heat of her body through the fine linen of the nightgown. She was burning up with fever.

James put her back in the bed as quickly and as gently as he could and covered her up. Then he went to the door and shouted for a servant to send for Mrs Culver, who came hurrying into the bedroom in a surprisingly short time. ‘I hadn’t gone to bed—I thought something like this would happen,’ she said briskly. ‘Now, Master James, I’d like you to hold the young woman while I give her a sip of the draught Dr Liston sent. That’s the way.’

The girl stirred as he raised her, but made no protest as Mrs Culver administered the sedative and James laid her back against the pillows. She was quiet again. Mrs Culver straightened the covers, and said firmly, ‘And now I want you to leave her with me till morning, my lord. This is a sick woman and she needs proper nursing.

She’ll be well looked after, never fear. One of the maids will join me in a minute. If she wakes and asks for you, I’ll send for you. Meanwhile, you’d do better to have some rest yourself.’

James went to his room reassured. Years before, whenever he and John had been sick, they had only ever wanted Cully to nurse them. She was the best possible person to look after his mysterious and unexpected protégée.

To his surprise James slept for a few hours, but woke soon after dawn. He had not been disturbed during the night, and hoped this was a good sign, but he nevertheless threw on his dressing robe and hurried along to the green bedroom. The maid was fast asleep in a chair on the other side of the room, but Mrs Culver was leaning over the bed, bathing her patient’s face.

‘How is she, Cully?’ he asked as he came softly into the room.

‘She hasn’t stirred all night, and seems to be breathing quite naturally. The fever has gone down.’

‘That’s good news! You must be tired. Let me take over.’

‘I never need much sleep, Master James. And I think…’ She paused as the maid stirred and woke up. Then, with a critical look at James’s state of undress, she raised her voice and said, ‘I think I can say the patient is doing well, my lord. It’s kind of you to be concerned. I’m sure it would be quite in order for you to visit her later in the day—after breakfast, perhaps?’ She turned to the maid. ‘Rose, go to the kitchen and tell cook to have his lordship’s breakfast ready in half an hour. And if Mrs Gage is in the kitchen, ask her to come up here.’ The girl turned to go. ‘And, Rose! Remember to hold your tongue about this young woman!’ Rose nodded and left.

Ater she had gone Mrs Culver said severely, ‘My lord, I have to say that coming along here at this hour before you are properly dressed was very unwise. The sudden arrival of this young woman has given the servants enough to talk about already. It won’t do to give them any more.’

James brushed this aside and asked, ‘Why do you wish to see Mrs Gage?’

‘She’s a good nurse and knows how to keep a still tongue in her head. If you agreed, she could sit with the young woman during the day.’

‘Surely I could do that!’

Mrs Culver said in an exasperated tone, ‘What have I just been saying? You mustn’t do it, Master James! But there! I might as well talk to a five-bar gate! You haven’t changed, and I don’t suppose you will. You’re just the same as you always were, forever rescuing something or other.’ She cast a look at the girl on the bed and said, ‘But this isn’t cat or a dog or a bird or one of those wild animals you took under your wing! It’s a grown woman, and you have to be more circumspect. People will gossip if you seem to be taking her into your care! She will have to go elsewhere as soon as she can be moved. To the parish, if necessary.’

‘No, Cully! I refuse to leave her to the mercy of the parish.’

Frowning, Mrs Culver looked at him sharply and said, ‘Just what is this person to you, my lord?’

James looked at the sleeping figure. ‘I had never seen her before last night, if that is what you mean. I don’t know who or what she is, or where she comes from. But you’re wrong if you think she is some kind of vagrant, Cully. She’s a lady, I’ll swear. And she’s in some sort of trouble—or even danger. Until she can tell us more about herself she will have my—our protection.’

Mrs Culver was still not convinced, but said resignedly, ‘I hope your grandmother never hears about this, Master James. But for the moment you’d better get dressed and ready for breakfast. Doctor Liston will be here soon. He said he’d call in early this morning. Perhaps the young woman will be able to talk to us after he has been.’ She gave a nod and added firmly, ‘And then, when we know where she belongs, she can be sent back there the moment she is well enough.’

James had thought he would visit the girl as soon as he had finished his breakfast, but when he went upstairs he found he would have to wait. Doctor Liston was with her. It seemed like hours before the door of the room opened and the surgeon came out.

‘Good morning, Lord Aldhurst.’

‘How is she, Liston?’

‘I’m pleased to say that I think she is out of danger, though she’s still weak. She should be kept warm, given plenty of liquids and left undisturbed. I doubt the fever will return, but if it does you should send for me. Good day to you, my lord. Unless I hear from you sooner, I’ll call at the same time tomorrow again.’

James looked in on the girl several times during the day, but found her asleep with Mrs Gage or one of the maids in attendance. They told him that she occasionally roused herself enough to sip a little water, but fell asleep again almost immediately. ‘It’s the best thing, Master James,’ said Mrs Culver, when he expressed concern about this prolonged rest. ‘As the doctor said, it’s what that girl needs most.’

When he came to see her the next morning Dr Liston was just coming out of the room.

‘How is she this morning, Liston? Not worse?’

The surgeon looked at him somewhat strangely. ‘No, no! Her constitution is a strong one. She seems to have survived her exposure to the elements remarkably well. The head wound is healing nicely…’ He paused. ‘Her vision does not seem to be affected, and she speaks sensibly enough. But…’

‘But what?’

The doctor hesitated, then put his hand on the door. ‘Perhaps you should talk to her. She might remember you.’ He held the door open for James.

Mrs Gage was at the head of the bed, plumping up the pillows behind the girl. She gave them a last pat and then curtsied and withdrew. Sitting propped up against them the girl looked weary, but the hectic flush had died down, leaving her pale again, as white as the bandage she now wore round her head. Her eyes were open and clear as she looked across the room at him,

but their expression of bewildered anxiety gave James a strong urge to hold her, to comfort her as he would a child, until that dreadful, lost look was chased away. But with Cully’s warnings in mind he mastered the impulse and kept his voice normal as he came towards her.

‘Good morning,’ he said, sitting down by the bed. ‘How are you?’

She hadn’t taken her eyes off him. ‘I recognise you. You’re James Aldhurst,’ she said. ‘And this is your grandmother’s house.’ She paused and looked at him anxiously. ‘Is that right?’

He nodded. ‘Absolutely right,’ he said.

She gave a sigh of relief. ‘At least I’ve remembered that much.’ She looked at him gravely. ‘Good morning, James Aldhurst.’

‘Good morning. I’m glad you remembered my name. Now tell me yours.’

‘Didn’t I…didn’t I tell you?’

‘No, not quite.’

‘What do you mean? What did I say?’

James wondered why the girl was so reluctant to tell him who she was. He said slowly, ‘You can trust me with all of it, you know. You’ve only told me your first name. Anne.’

Her look of eagerness vanished. ‘Anne…’ she said, and for a moment she frowned in intense concentration. Then she shook her head and the lost look returned. ‘I…I can’t,’ she said. ‘I don’t know. I can’t remember. I’ve tried and tried, but I can’t remember.’ Her voice rose as she repeated, ‘Anne…Anne…Anne what?’ She looked at him, her eyes full of anxiety. ‘I can remember who you are, but I don’t remember who I am! I…I seem to have lost my memory!’

James took her hand in his and said gently, ‘No, you haven’t. You remembered me, and you remembered where you are, didn’t you? You’re just still confused after that bang on the head. You’ll remember the rest soon enough. Worrying about it would be the worst thing you could do. Let it come naturally. It will come back all the sooner, you’ll see.’ He smiled at her encouragingly.

Her fingers grasped his, and she gave him a twisted smile in return. ‘Yes, yes. It will, I’m sure it will. Forgive me. I’m not usually as poor-spirited as this. It must be that bang on the head.’

‘You see? You’ve remembered something about yourself already! You’re certainly not poor-spirited. That’s a quite a relief! I’m not fond of poor-spirited girls.’

She made an attempt to smile, but it failed. ‘What happened? I don’t even know how I got here.’

‘We brought you in after we found you lying unconscious on the drive to this house. I think you must have been there for some time. There was a storm and you were very wet.’

‘A storm? I don’t remember that at all,’ she said wearily, turning her head away.

Doctor Liston came over. ‘Lord Aldhurst, I think my patient needs to rest again.’ He caught Mrs Gage’s eye. ‘Can you find something for the young lady, Mrs Gage—a little thin soup or gruel, something like that?’

‘I’ll see to it right away, sir,’ said Mrs Gage. She went out.

The surgeon turned to the girl on the bed and said kindly, ‘I’ll call again tomorrow to see how you are, but there’s not much more I can do. Temporary loss of memory is not at all unusual in a case like yours. You must not distress yourself, ma’am. I think you can depend on Lord Aldhurst to find somewhere for you to stay until your memory returns.’

‘She will stay here, Liston,’ said James decisively.

Doctor Liston looked surprised. ‘It’s good of Lady Aldhurst—’

‘My grandmother is not here. But I am sure she would agree with me that Miss…Miss Anne must stay at Hatherton for the time being.’

The surgeon looked doubtful, but said, ‘Very well, my lord. I shall come again tomorrow. Er…when are you expecting Lady Aldhurst to arrive?’

‘I am not expecting her,’ said James as he ushered the surgeon out of the room. ‘Lady Aldhurst is in London and as far as I know is planning to stay there.’

‘But in that case, surely the young lady—’

‘Set your mind at rest. The young lady will be perfectly safe here, with or without my grandmother’s presence. I don’t make a habit of seducing defenceless invalids.’

The surgeon was shocked out of his professional manner. ‘Really, sir!’ he exclaimed. ‘Nothing was further from my mind! But convention would suggest…The Rector would possibly know of somewhere more suitable…’ He looked at James’s expression. ‘Or if you wish, I could ask Mrs Liston if she would offer the young lady a room.’

‘No, Liston. The young lady is my responsibility. I found her, and I shall look after her. Mrs Liston would not thank you for bringing someone who might be in danger into the house.’

‘Danger?’

‘You saw the girl’s wrists. She has been kept somewhere against her will. Whoever tied her up may well want her back, and I suspect they may not be too scrupulous about their methods.’

‘I see…Well…in that case it may be best to leave her in your care after all, Lord Aldhurst.’

‘Quite.’

Doctor Liston was obviously shaken. ‘I shall…er…I shall call again tomorrow—unless you think I shouldn’t?’

‘Please do,’ said James.

He went back into the bedroom. The girl had taken the bandages off her wrist and was examining the scars.

‘You heard,’ said James.

‘Yes. The door wasn’t quite shut. I seem to be causing you a great deal of trouble.’ She looked at him. ‘You should have listened to Dr Liston.’

‘Nonsense.’

‘I mean it. What would your grandmother say if she arrived to find an uninvited stranger in her house? A nameless stranger at that!’

‘You have a name. It’s Anne.’

‘Anne,’ she said. ‘It’s a pretty name. But it doesn’t somehow sound quite right.’

‘It will do for the moment,’ James said firmly.

‘There’s something else, Lord Aldhurst…’

‘What is it?’

‘You said…You told that doctor that he might be in danger if he took me in. What did you mean?’

‘I didn’t want an argument about where you should stay, that’s all.’

She shook her head. ‘Please be honest with me! What are these marks on my wrist? It wasn’t just a story to put Dr Liston off. I have been tied up, haven’t I?’

‘It looks like it.’

‘So there is danger…I knew it. I have this feeling…of some kind of threat…and…and something I have to do…But I don’t know what it is!’ She held her head in her hands. After a few moments she looked up again. ‘Why can’t I remember?’

James heard the beginning of panic in her voice and said, ‘Stop! Stop this at once. It won’t do you any good, Anne. And you can forget about danger. I told you last night—you’re perfectly safe here. Or…do you not trust me?’

‘Of course I trust you. I have to. There’s no one else.’

‘Exactly. So listen to me! You will remember who you are, and where you have come from quite soon. And if you don’t we shall set about finding out. But the first step is to get your strength back. Agreed?’

She nodded.

‘Then give me a smile.’ She smiled tremulously.

‘Brave girl! Not at all poor-spirited.’ He regarded her white face. ‘Now where is Mrs Gage? Liston said you were to have something to eat and then a rest, and that is what you shall do. Ah! I can hear her coming. But you’ll have to sit up straighter than that.’ He bent over and put his arms round her to lift her higher in the bed.

It wasn’t Mrs Gage who came in, but Mrs Culver. She gave a loud cough.

‘I believe the doctor ordered some food for the patient, my lord. The maid is just bringing up some soup for her.’

‘Ah, there you are, Mrs Culver,’ said James, completely unaffected by the look of shocked disapproval on her face. ‘Good. I’m sure Miss Anne is ready for it.’ He grinned at the housekeeper unrepentantly. ‘The pillows had slipped, Cully, and I was straightening them. That was all.’

Mrs Culver remained unappeased. ‘That wasn’t at all necessary, my lord. That is my job. It’s what I came in to do,’ she said austerely. She paused. ‘Am I to understand that the young lady has now remembered her name?’

‘No, but until she does we shall call her “Anne”.’

‘Very good, my lord.’ She took the tray from the maidservant who had followed her in and put it on the bed. ‘Now, Miss Anne, you must finish this all up, and then have a good rest. His lordship is a busy man, but he might find time to pay you a short visit this evening. Is that not so, my lord?’ She gave him a severe look. ‘A short visit.’

‘Of course! Whatever you say, Cully.’ James turned to the girl. ‘Try not to worry. Enjoy that soup if you can.

I remember it from my childhood. I wasn’t too fond of it then, and I don’t suppose it tastes any better now.’

‘It’s good, wholesome food and it didn’t do your lordship any harm,’ said Mrs Culver. ‘Nor your brother, either. Don’t listen to him, miss.’

After James had gone out, Anne took a sip of the soup. ‘What is his lordship thinking of? This is delicious!’ She finished the plateful eagerly, but refused an offer of more. Mrs Culver removed the tray and told the maid to take it out. Then, after she had tidied up and seen to Anne’s needs, she sat down on the chair by the bed. ‘I’ll just stay till you are ready to sleep, miss,’ she said.

Resting thankfully against the pillows Anne said, ‘Lord Aldhurst is very kind. Have you known him long, Mrs Culver?’

‘Ever since he was a little boy. His lordship and Master John lived here with their grandmother when the boys’ parents were off on their travels.’

‘Master John?’

‘His lordship’s younger brother.’ Mrs Culver sighed. ‘But he died, and now there are just the two of them left—Lady Aldhurst and his lordship.’

‘Lord Aldhurst is not married?’

‘Not yet.’ Mrs Culver gave Anne a look. ‘But I understand that he is as good as engaged. Before she left for London Lady Aldhurst was sure it was all settled.’

‘So he…he has someone in mind?’

Mrs Culver nodded and said cheerfully, ‘His lordship could have married any one of a number of young ladies, of course, but he and Lady Barbara have known each other since they were young. It would be a very suitable match.’ She paused. ‘And we’ll all be very pleased when he does marry. It’s time we had a new generation of Aldhursts running about the place.’ She got up from her chair. ‘But I can see it’s time you had a rest. I’ll get one of the maids to call in on you occasionally, but she won’t wake you. Sleep is the best cure for most maladies.’

But sleep would not come to the girl in the bed. She had found the news that James Aldhurst was about to be married dispiriting. He was her rock, her safe place in the uninhabited wilderness that was her world at the moment, and, however unjustified, the thought that he was about to marry someone else was most unwelcome.

She lay awake, thinking about her rescuer. He had been gentle enough with her, but she suspected he was not usually a patient man. He was an aristocrat to his fingertips, self-assured, his manner occasionally verging on the autocratic. But the servants seemed to like him. And there had been laughter in those grey eyes. Tall, athletic, dark haired, grey-eyed, with a sense of humour—James Aldhurst was a very attractive man…And, she told herself, he was a man who was about to marry. It was better to stop thinking how attractive he was!

She looked round the room for something to distract her and her eye was caught by a mirror on the dressing table opposite the bed. With a shock she realised that she had not the slightest idea of what she herself looked like. Was she beautiful? Or was she plain? What was the colour of her hair, her eyes? She pulled a strand of her hair forwards and saw that it was dark brown. But her eyes? Did she have a squint? Was her nose crooked? Were there gaps in her teeth? She stroked her nose. It felt reassuringly straight. And when she ran her tongue over her teeth they all seemed to be there. That left the question of her eyes, and that couldn’t be settled without looking in a mirror.

But the mirror lay tantalisingly out of reach. She sank back. Perhaps it would be better not to see herself at the moment…She would not be looking her best. A bandage was not an aid to beauty, and it was perfectly possible she had a black eye, too. She lay fretting about this for a full minute before she decided that it was no use—she had to get to that mirror!

When she first put her feet to the ground she was not so sure, but after a minute or two she managed to stand without too much difficulty. Taking one step at a time, she held on to the chair, the foot of the bed. So far, so good…She stretched out for the table…and suddenly her legs gave way and she lost her balance.

Rose heard the crash and came running in. When she saw her charge lying on the floor in a heap she ran out in a panic, calling frantically for Mrs Culver.

James had been out with the agent and had just come in. He was in the hall when he heard the maid’s cries, leapt up the stairs three at a time and was stunned when he got to the bedroom door to see Anne lying in a crumpled heap by the chest of drawers. But before he even reached her she was struggling to get up, uttering a cry of frustration as she collapsed again, her feet tangled in her nightgown. Without a word he swept her up and took her back to the bed. He stood for a moment holding her in his arms, looking into the face so close to his. ‘What happened?’ he asked grimly. ‘Who did this?’

Chapter Three

James’s touch was having a strange effect on Anne. She stammered, ‘I d-d-did.’

‘What do you mean, you did? Who left you lying on the floor?’

‘I fell. All by myself. No one else was here.’ ‘You fell? Why wasn’t someone with you?’ ‘They…they thought I was asleep in bed.’ ‘So you should have been! What on earth were you doing over there?’

She hesitated, then hung her head and said in a low voice, ‘I…I wanted to see what I looked like.’

‘See what you…’ James looked at the chest of drawers. ‘Oh! The mirror!’ He regarded her with astonishment. ‘You wanted to see yourself in the mirror? Do you realise that you’ve just given me the devil of a fright! I thought for a moment you’d been attacked!’ He started to laugh. ‘What does it matter what you look like at the moment? Or did you think your bump on the head had given you a black eye?’

‘It isn’t at all funny!’ she said, looking up indignantly. ‘It’s very natural to want to know what one looks like, and I have no idea.’ After a pause, she added, ‘A black eye wouldn’t really matter, it wouldn’t last. But…have I…have I a squint?’

This produced another laugh, but he quickly became serious and said, ‘I’m sorry—I hadn’t realised…No, there’s no sign of a squint.’ He studied her for a moment, then said slowly, ‘In fact, I think your eyes are the loveliest I have seen in a long time.’

She was startled. ‘What?’

He went on, still studying her intently. ‘They are large, the dark blue of lapis lazuli, and they are straight and deep and true. And there’s not even a hint of a black eye. Will that do?’

A delicate rose coloured her cheeks. ‘I’d say it was more than enough, sir! Thank you.’ She gave him a small smile. But something about the way he was looking at her confused her. She looked away and said nervously, ‘Perhaps you’d better put me down before Mrs Culver comes in. She won’t approve of your being here.’

Laughing, he said, ‘Don’t you think I deserve something before I do?’ Then, when she looked up again, puzzled, he kissed her. The kiss was deliberately light and fleeting, nothing more than a casual caress, but her eyes widened and she stared at him in surprise. For a moment his grip tightened, but he put her carefully down on the bed almost immediately and said abruptly, ‘I…I’ll get the mirror for you. Then I’ll find Mrs Culver or Rose.’

He handed the mirror to her. ‘I think you’ll be satisfied,’ he said with a brief smile as he went out.

When Mrs Culver came in a few minutes later she found her patient lying on top of the bed, looking dazed. ‘I’m sorry I was so long—Rose took some time to find me,’ she said. ‘I see one of the others has put you back, but why didn’t they put you properly under the covers? I sometimes ask myself what those girls are thinking about, I really do! Let me straighten you up.’ She picked up the mirror.

‘What’s this?’

‘I wanted to see myself in the mirror.’

‘Now, Miss Anne, you mustn’t be worrying about that sort of thing. You’re not looking your best at the moment, it’s true. Your hair is dirty and it’s in a dreadful tangle, but a good wash will sort out the worst of it. And it’s only natural you should look a bit peaky…’

‘It isn’t that. It’s my memory—I didn’t know what I look like at all!’

Mrs Culver stared, then her face softened. ‘That’s a terrible thing, Miss Anne. I hadn’t thought…But don’t you worry. We’ll soon have you looking a lot prettier than what you see in that mirror at the moment. Now what do you want to do? Do you feel strong enough to sit in a chair while the maids change the bed?’

Meanwhile, James had left the house puzzled and feeling in need of fresh air. ‘Set your mind at rest,’ he had told Liston. ‘I do not make a habit of seducing helpless invalids.’ And when he had half-jokingly claimed a kiss as his reward, nothing had been further from his mind. Her wide-eyed shock had at first amused him, but when he looked into those dark blue eyes it had taken most of his considerable self-control to put her down calmly and gently—and leave her.

James Aldhurst rarely allowed his emotions to run away with him. Personable, rich and eligible, he had been the target of matchmaking mamas and bored sophisticates alike from the day he first entered society. As a result he had learned discretion at a very early age. The young ladies regularly presented to him by their hopeful mamas had left him unmoved, and, though he had conducted affairs with several more experienced beauties with varying degrees of passion, he had never been in any danger of losing his head or his heart. The polite world had learned that, charming though Lord Aldhurst was, he seldom failed to be in complete charge of himself and the situation.

But what had happened when he had held the girl in his arms was disturbingly new, and he was at a loss to explain it. Cully would say it was a case of pity for her situation, and indeed, when he had first come across her, that was exactly what he had felt. But the feeling aroused a short while ago had little to do with pity. It had been totally unexpected, coming quite suddenly out of nowhere, and he was not at all sure he liked the unsettling effect it had on him. It was not only new—it was dangerous. And until he had recovered his senses it would be better for everyone if he kept away from the girl!

So it was a relief to arrive at the stables and find a need for immediate action. The damage done by the storm two nights ago was already being cleared away by men from the estate, and any evidence about what had happened would soon be lost for ever. Accompanied by Sam Trott, he found without difficulty the spot where she had been lying, just where an ancient, rustic bridge crossed a small stream.

James pointed to the path, which ran beside the stream. ‘That path leads to the Portsmouth Road. Perhaps that was where she came from?’ They climbed down to look more closely.

‘You’re right, my lord! Look!’ Sam pointed to a large boulder that formed part of the support for the bridge. It had been loosened by the rain, and was sticking out over the path. ‘I’d say the young lady fell as she was climbing up the path and hit her head on this stone. And then she clambered—no, crawled—up to the drive before she collapsed.’

They looked at the marks made by a girl desperately scrabbling up the bank. ‘She’s a determined lass, that one, all right,’ Sam said. ‘How is she? Has she been able to tell you what happened to her?’

‘She can’t remember anything at all before we carried her into the house. But she was running away from someone. There are rope burns on her wrists where she has been tied up.’

Sam was shocked. ‘Can’t she tell you who kept her or how she escaped?’

‘Not yet. She could still be in danger. Pass the word on—I want to know if any strangers appear in the neighbourhood asking questions.’

‘I’ll do that.’ Sam looked at the marks on the ground. ‘She’s a brave lass, whoever she is.’

They were so deep in thought as they walked back up the drive that they said little to each other. But as they neared the house Sam suddenly said, ‘That young lady can’t have come more than a few miles without being noticed. It was a bad night, but I’d be surprised if someone or other didn’t see her. I’ll ask Mr Norris and one or two of the farmers, shall I?’

‘That’s a good idea, Sam. There’s very little Norris doesn’t hear about sooner or later. Though there won’t have been many travellers on the road that evening. It was a terrible night!’

‘Indeed it was,’ said Sam with some feeling. ‘I heard Mr Norris telling someone only madmen would go out in that storm when they could stay safely indoors.’

James grinned at this, but then said seriously, ‘If I hadn’t decided to carry on to Hatherton that night, your brave young lady would probably have died, Sam.’

‘Aye, and that would have been a pity. Right, I’ll be off to Norris and the rest, my lord.’

On his way back to the house James decided that he had exaggerated the effect the girl had had on him. He had promised her she would be safe, and the sight of her lying on the floor of the bedroom after apparently being attacked had thrown him off balance, that was all. Was it likely that a sad waif, who couldn’t even remember her own name, would touch him when so many accredited beauties had failed? No, he hardly needed to avoid her. Indeed, it would be cruel and unnecessary. She trusted him. She would expect him. By the time James entered the house he had made up his mind to keep his promise and visit her that evening—in spite of Mrs Culver’s certain disapproval.

When Anne next woke up it was late afternoon. A fire was burning brightly in the fireplace, and for a while she watched its light flickering over the room. Then Mrs Culver came in, followed by Rose, who was carrying a tray. ‘There you are!’ she said, lighting a lamp. ‘I was thinking I would have to wake you. Eat this up and then we’ll put you in a chair by the fire for a while.’ She disappeared while Anne was eating, but came back shortly, carrying a blue dressing robe. ‘Your own clothes will be ready for you tomorrow, but meanwhile I’ve taken the liberty of borrowing this old robe of Lady Aldhurst’s for you.’

In a short while Anne was sitting in front of the fire, trying not to wince as Rose did her best to bring her hair into some order. But the maid was skilled, and after some painful moments Anne’s hair was brushed and tied back tidily with a ribbon.

‘There, miss,’ said Rose. ‘You look ever so much better. His lordship will be surprised to see you looking so much more the thing.’

‘That will do, Rose,’ Mrs Culver was severe. ‘I doubt his lordship will see anything of the sort! He has spent most of the day trying to find out where Miss Anne came from, so it’s most unlikely he’ll visit her again today. He has better things to do with his time.’

Mrs Culver was wrong. When James came in he saw her in the hall and immediately asked how Anne was.

‘She is doing very well, my lord. She is awake, and has eaten a good nourishing meal.’

‘I’ll see her, then.’

‘Rose is with her at the moment. It really isn’t convenient. Besides, I’m afraid I gave orders to serve your dinner in an hour.’ She looked expressively at the mud on James’s coat and breeches. ‘I expect you will wish to change.’

‘Oh, very well, Cully. I’ll see Miss Anne after dinner.’

‘I expect she will be asleep, my lord.’ The housekeeper’s tone was discouraging.

James had been about to go to his room, but now he stopped and looked at her. Then, taking her by the arm, he led her into the small parlour off the hall. ‘Cully, I have no wish to challenge your authority in this house, but I shall see Miss Anne sometime tonight. That girl is feeling completely lost at the moment and I intend to keep my promise to see her.’

Mrs Culver shook her head. She said, ‘You always did go your own way, Master James. But I wish you’d be more careful.’ She paused, then added with a touch of temper, ‘The sooner that girl is out of the house the better!’

‘Why are you so eager to get rid of her, Cully? It isn’t like you to be inhospitable.’

‘You may be sure I’ll see that she is comfortable while she is here. But, I don’t like mysteries, and there are too many about this girl you’ve brought into your grandmother’s house. She may have been wearing a beggar woman’s dress and boots when you found her, but the rest of her clothes are best quality, and you can tell by the way she treats Rose and the others that she’s used to dealing with servants. And, for someone who was at death’s door a night or two ago, she has recovered remarkably quickly…’ Mrs Culver took a breath. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve learned anything more about her this afternoon?’

‘It looks as if she came from the Portsmouth Road, though it’s quite a distance to walk. Sam Trott is going to ask Norris and others if they have heard of anything. But she will stay here until I am sure she is safe.’ When he saw the housekeeper’s expression he added sternly, ‘You and I are old friends, Cully, but we shall fall out if the girl comes to any harm through anything you do or say. I’d be obliged if you would keep these suspicions of yours to yourself.’

Mrs Culver drew a deep breath and said stiffly, ‘My lord, I am surprised at you. In any matter involving the Aldhurst family my discretion has never been called into question. Your lordship may rely on it. Completely.’

‘Good!’

‘I will see that your lordship’s dinner is ready when you are,’ said Mrs Culver majestically. She curtsied and went out.

James shook his head ruefully. In deciding to come to Hatherton he had looked for time and peace to consider his future. Instead, he had been plunged into a mystery that threatened to wreck his relationship with one of his oldest allies in the house, as well as offending one of his grandmother’s most trusted servants. Cully might be right, after all—the girl was an unsettling influence and ought to go as soon as possible. If she regained her memory in the next day or two, he would see her safely delivered to her own people. If it looked as if it was going to take much longer than that, he would have to see that she went somewhere where she would be looked after in comfort. He and everyone else at Hatherton could then forget her.

When he entered the green bedroom later that evening, James found Anne dozing in a chair by the fire. The blue robe she was wearing was his grandmother’s—he remembered it from his childhood. Her hair had been tied back, revealing an ugly bruise, vulnerable hollows under her cheekbones and dark shadows under her eyes. He came forwards and sat down quietly in a chair near to her. The bandages had been removed from her wrists, and he could see that they were healing. But the sight of cruel red lines still encircling her delicate bones angered him. She must have been in considerable pain.

When he looked up again he saw that her eyes were open and she was staring at him blankly. ‘I thought I was safe,’ she said quite clearly. ‘I thought he hadn’t seen me…’

‘Who, Anne?’

The deep blue eyes were still wide. With a small frown she said, ‘Why are you calling me Anne? That isn’t my name.’

‘At last! You’ve remembered. What is it?’ But the urgency in his voice had disturbed her.

Now wide awake, she said, ‘Of course I remember! It’s An…’ She paused, wrinkling her brow in desperate concentration. ‘It’s…’ But after a moment she put her hand over her eyes, and said with a sob, ‘I almost had it! It was there! But it’s gone again.’

James cursed himself for an insensitive fool at the despair in her voice. He took her hand away from her eyes. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pressed you. Were you dreaming?’

‘I think I must have been. I was passing an open door. The room inside was full of smoke…’ She shook her head in angry frustration. ‘I can see just the corner of that room—what use is that?’

‘It will come in its own good time. Don’t try to force it.’

‘But I must! You have no idea what it is like—’ She stopped, and almost visibly pulled herself together. ‘I know you want to help. Mrs Culver said you were out today looking for clues—about me.’ Her eyes searched his face, and then she gave a sigh and looked away. ‘You didn’t find any,’ she said despondently.

‘It’s true that we didn’t find many,’ he said, ‘But we found a few and we’re working on them. You mustn’t be unhappy. You’re making wonderful progress. Who got you up? Mrs Culver?’ She nodded, and he went on,

‘My grandmother used to wear that robe when I was a child. The blue suits you.’

‘Would Lady Aldhurst mind my wearing it?’

‘She would be delighted. Anne—’ He stopped. ‘May I call you Anne, until we know better? I hope so—I have something for you.’ She nodded and he produced a book from his pocket. ‘This too is my grandmother’s. I gave it to her when it was first published, and I think it is now one of her favourites. You might enjoy it. It’s about a girl called Anne. It might amuse you while you have to stay indoors.’

Anne took the book. ‘Persuasion, by Miss Jane Austen.’ She turned the pages cautiously then looked up with a tremulous smile. ‘What a relief! I can read! I was afraid for a moment that I might have forgotten that, too.’

The uncertain smile undermined him. Forgetting his sensible resolutions, he drew her up and put his arms round her. After a moment, she said in a muffled voice, ‘You must think me such a coward.’

‘I think nothing of the sort,’ he said. He held her for a moment or two, his cheek against hers, then he put her carefully back into her chair, and moved away to look into the fire. He said, ‘All the same, I shouldn’t be here at this time of night, holding you like that…The rest of the world would never believe it was innocent. I’m supposed to be protecting you. Mrs Culver is right. I must find somewhere else where you can be kept safe until you remember who you are.’

Anne considered him gravely. ‘Am I not safe with you?’ she asked.

‘Of course you are!’ he said forcefully. ‘That isn’t what I meant.’

There was a short silence. Then she said hesitantly, ‘Are you afraid your fiancée might not understand the situation? Do you want me to go because she might be hurt or angry if she heard I was staying here with you?’

He turned round again in surprise. ‘My what?’

‘Mrs Culver told me you are to marry soon. Someone in London.’

‘The devil she did! I wonder who the lucky girl is. Did she tell you that?’

‘She mentioned a Lady Barbara?’ said Anne hesitantly.

‘Lady Barbara? Did she indeed?’ He took a breath and went on grimly, ‘Mrs Culver is mistaken.’

Anne looked at the frown on his face and said quietly, ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.’

‘I’m glad you did. I am not engaged. I never have been engaged, and if it were left to me I never would be engaged. This is my grandmother’s doing! She and Cully are desperate to see me married off and producing heirs for Roade House, but I have no intention of letting my grandmother or anyone else dictate when and whom I should marry. No, it is for your own sake that you should go, not for the benefit of an entirely mythical fiancée.’

Anne got out of her chair and put her hand on his arm. ‘Then let me stay here,’ she said. ‘You’re the only one I trust at present.’ She hesitated and then went on, ‘I shall have to leave sometime soon, I know, but the thought of going out into the world before I’m used to the idea terrifies me.’

‘What do you mean—have to leave? Who would make you?’

‘I can’t stay here for ever. I’m sure Mrs Culver would like to see the back of me as soon as possible. And if my memory never returns I shall have to find some other place, where I can earn a living without it. But…I know I’m a coward, but please don’t send me away yet.’

James saw how pale and weary she looked. ‘If your memory doesn’t return, Anne,’ he said gently, ‘I’ll make sure you’re not left alone to find your way. Do you believe me?’

She nodded and he went on, ‘But now I think you’ve had enough for today—let me call Rose or someone to see you to bed.’

Before she sat down, she hesitated and said, ‘Will I…will I see you tomorrow?’

James shook his head. ‘Not tomorrow.’ She looked disappointed and he explained, ‘I must spend the day at Roade, but I’ll see you the day after. We could go for a walk in the garden if you are strong enough. Meanwhile, promise me you’ll stay in this room while I am away. Walk a little, read your book—and try not to worry.’ He went to the door and turned to bid her goodnight, but when he saw the droop to her head he found himself saying, ‘I’ll see if I can call on you tomorrow before I go out. Goodnight, Anne. Sleep well.’

Chapter Four

Rose was slow in coming, and Anne sat gazing into the fire for some time after James had gone. Her fears were briefly forgotten as she allowed herself to dream. So Mrs Culver had been wrong—James was not about to marry anyone, not engaged, and, from what he had said, didn’t have anyone in mind either…

And after Rose had come and gone she lay awake, inventing a fairy tale to keep her fears about the future at bay. She would recover her memory, and turn out to be an entirely suitable bride for an Aldhurst—the daughter of an earl perhaps, or even a duke. They would fall in love, marry and live happily ever after at Hatherton. What would it be like to sleep with the man you loved, to have his arms around you, holding you, caressing you…? Her last thought before she finally fell asleep was that, though Lord Aldhurst was most unlikely to fall in love with her, she was more than halfway to falling in love with him already.

But Anne paid dearly for indulging in these romantic fantasies, with a series of nightmares. She was faced with a dark red door that she knew was familiar, but she struggled in vain to reach its knocker…Then, in the way of dreams, the door changed into a spreading pool of dark red blood, and, terrified, she fought to save the man lying at its centre, her heart racing and gasping for breath, struggling against the cruel hands that were dragging her away…Suddenly the hands holding her were James Aldhurst’s hands, and she sobbed with relief as she looked again from the protection of his arms and saw that both the pool of blood and the body at its centre had disappeared. She turned thankfully back to him, but when she looked up, his face was cold and distant and he pushed her away, and gradually disappeared into the distance, deaf to her cries.

She woke up at last unrefreshed and lay for a while with traces of tears on her face, her mind full of the images in her dreams. They frightened and confused her—was there a clue to her identity in them? She puzzled over them for some time, but the images meant nothing to her. Her life before she had been found on the drive was still shrouded in grey fog.

And in the cold light of morning her romantic fantasy of the night before seemed more like the delusions of a lunatic. The end of the dream had been telling her as much. Lord Aldhurst would keep her safe until she knew what she was to do, but he could never consider her suitable to be his wife. Although Mrs Culver might have tried to deceive her about his marital plans, her warning was clear enough. He was the last of an ancient and distinguished family and the world would expect him to find a bride of equal rank. Wealthy, handsome, well born, with a duty to his family—why on earth should an Aldhurst ever look at penniless Miss Nobody of Nowhere, who was not even very beautiful?

For a moment she felt very sorry for herself, but was soon ashamed of indulging in so much self-pity. It was time Miss Nobody stopped being so poor-spirited, pulled herself together and started to take charge of her life instead of leaving it to others! She also had things to do!

When Mrs Culver came in an hour later she was astonished to see Anne walking round the room with grim determination.

‘Whatever are you doing?’ she exclaimed. ‘You shouldn’t be up for another hour at least. You’ll wear yourself out. Sit down and rest. Rose will fetch your breakfast.’

Anne sat down gratefully in a chair and said, ‘I’m not really ill any longer. My legs are weak, that’s all, and they won’t get any stronger if I don’t use them. It’s time I had some exercise. I don’t intend to be a burden to you all any longer than I have to.’

Mrs Culver gave a satisfied nod. ‘I’m sure I’m glad to hear you say that. And if you wish you can put on your own clothes again. I have them here. We’ve washed and pressed them for you, so they are perfectly clean.’

‘Thank you. But I’m afraid I am not. Before I dress I should like you to bring water and a towel, if you would.’

The request was reasonable enough, and if Mrs Culver experienced a touch of resentment at the hint of command in this nameless nobody’s voice it did not show. ‘There’s a bath in the dressing room next door—I’ll get the maids to fill it. And Rose will wash your hair.’

An hour later, when Anne was sitting in front of the fire while Rose dried her hair, Lord Aldhurst walked in. ‘Good morning,’ he said with a smile, ‘I’ve come to see how you are.’

‘Th-that’s very kind of you,’ stammered Anne. ‘I…I hardly expected to see you at all today. Though you did say…’ Her voice faded. This wouldn’t do. She pulled herself together, stood up and gave him a slight curtsy. ‘Good morning.’

His eyes were on her hair, which was hanging loose in dark chestnut waves down her back. ‘You look different,’ he said.

‘I should hope so indeed! Rose here has just spent a great deal of energy cleaning me up. And I feel much the better for it.’

He came forwards and, frowning, took up a lock of her hair. ‘It’s…it’s a different colour. I thought your hair was darker,’ he said.

Anne suppressed a smile and removed the hair from his fingers. ‘No, my lord,’ she said gravely, ‘it merely needed to be washed. And now it is clean. I’m sorry if you don’t like its colour, but that is what it is, I’m afraid.’ She laughed and added, ‘I consider myself fortunate. When I was a child it was much redder and I had a temper to match.’

There was a sudden silence. Then she said in a strangled voice, ‘How do I know that?’

James nodded. ‘I’m not sure, but it’s a good sign. Your memory seems to be returning, if only in fragments.’

‘That was a singularly unimportant fragment,’ said Anne bitterly. ‘My name would be more welcome.’ Then she attempted another smile, and added, ‘But beggars can’t be choosers—I suppose I should be grateful for anything at all.’ There was another short silence, and then she went on in a more formal tone, ‘Thank you for your enquiry, my lord. I am much better. I hope you have a pleasant day.’

He paused, then said, ‘Have you breakfasted? If not, do you feel strong enough to come downstairs to have it with me?’

She was so taken by surprise that she didn’t know what to say. ‘With you? I…I thought you wished me to stay in this room?’

‘I would like you to stay in your room while I am out—but you would be safe downstairs with me. Of course, if you would prefer not to join me…’

‘No, no! I should like to! But I can’t be seen downstairs with my hair like this.’

‘Shall we say in ten minutes? I’ll talk to Mrs Culver. And Rose can do whatever is necessary to your hair.’

He bowed and left the room. Rose was already busy with brush and comb, twisting and winding Anne’s hair into a graceful knot on top of her head. When she had finished she gave it a final pat and said, ‘There, miss! You look lovely. His lordship will be pleased!’ She paused. ‘But I wouldn’t be so sure about Mrs Culver.’ Anne privately agreed with the maid, but she said coolly, ‘His lordship will be relieved to see that I shall soon be strong enough to take up my own life again. And so will Mrs Culver. Thank you, Rose. Show me where the breakfast room is, if you please.’

If the caretaker at Roade House had expected to see James early that day then he would have been disappointed. James spent more than an hour over breakfast and the morning was half over before he finally rose from the table. Anne sat opposite him, a touch of colour in her cheeks and a swathe of glossy hair falling from the simple knot on top of her head. She was an altogether different creature from the pale waif he had rescued, and she intrigued and delighted him. Her dress, as Cully had said, was of poor material and very simply cut, a servant’s dress, but she wore it with an air. Though he knew she felt vulnerable, even frightened, at her inability to remember anything about herself, no one would have guessed it from her composed manner. Her conversation was of necessity not about herself, but it was lively, sometimes displaying a touch of irony that perfectly matched his own, and occasionally revealing a keen sense of the ridiculous that made him laugh out loud.

Anne in turn was equally happy in his company. He talked with affection of his grandmother, and it was clear to Anne the bond between them was very close. She was obviously a woman of strong character, but he seemed to be amused rather than annoyed by her attempts to rule his life. Anne herself was amused at Mrs Culver’s determination not to leave her alone with James. She was in and out of the breakfast room far more frequently than strictly necessary, clearly disapproving of this joint breakfast. But James ignored her frowns, and quite often called on her to confirm or add to what he said when he was telling Anne stories of his childhood at Hatherton. Anne observed with interest how quickly the housekeeper responded to James’s charm. Before breakfast was over Mrs Culver was actually smiling again.

At last James reluctantly rose from the table and said, ‘It’s no use. If I am to keep my promise to Agnew I shall have to be gone. What do you plan to do today, Anne?’

Anne looked at Mrs Culver. ‘I think I would be strong enough to do some work, if Mrs Culver has anything for me to do?’

‘It’s good of you to offer, Miss Anne, but I’m sure his lordship would prefer you to be resting in your room. And so would I.’ Mrs Culver’s tone was cool. James might be back in her favour but this didn’t extend to his guest.

James frowned, but said nothing. Instead, he turned to Anne and held out his arm with a smile. ‘Mrs Culver is right as usual. I’ll see you to your room. The stairs are steep, and you are still not quite up to strength. I don’t suppose you’ve started the book I gave you, have you?’

‘No,’ said Anne, looking at Mrs Culver’s retreating back. ‘I’m looking forward to reading it today.’ Then as they slowly mounted the stairs, she said softly, ‘You are wrong to tease Mrs Culver, Lord Aldhurst. I’m sure she has your interests at heart.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘I’m glad of your arm up these stairs, but it would have been quite easy to ask one of the servants to help me, and very much more…tactful. It’s nonsensical, of course, but Mrs Cully sees me as a threat. She doesn’t trust me.’

They had reached the door of her room. He opened it, then said softly, ‘I’m not sure it’s as nonsensical as you think, Anne.’

She looked up at him, startled. ‘You don’t trust me?’

‘Oh, I trust you, of course I do! But you’re definitely proving a threat to my peace of mind.’ He added abruptly, ‘I must go! Agnew will be wondering what has happened to me. Enjoy your day! Read the book and stay in your room! Please?’ He turned towards the stairs, stopped, turned again and said, ‘I’ll look in on you this evening to see if you like the book. May I?’

‘Of course,’ said Anne. She pulled a face. ‘I think I can safely promise to be at home, Lord Aldhurst.’

She watched him race down the stairs, then went in, closed the door and hurried to the window. Two horses, one a powerful bay, were standing outside the front doors, held by a groom. James came out, mounted the bay and they moved off. Anne followed him with her eyes until he disappeared round a bend in the drive. Then she turned with a sigh, fetched the book and sat in a chair to read it. When Rose came in with a tray an hour later she was absorbed in the story of gentle Anne Elliot.

Later that afternoon Anne abandoned her book in favour of some exercise. She was walking vigorously round the room when Mrs Culver came in, a collection of clothes over one arm. She congratulated Anne on the progress she was making, then went on, ‘I’ve looked out a change of clothing for you, Miss Anne, though if you carry on as well as you seem to be doing at the moment you may have left us before you need them all. I hope you don’t mind—they are old dresses and such of Lady Aldhurst’s.’

Anne was touched. ‘Thank you, Mrs Culver. I’m sorry to be such a nuisance.’

Mrs Culver hesitated, and then she said, ‘The underclothes may be plainer than you are used to, I think…?’

Anne was puzzled. ‘Are mine so elaborate? I hadn’t thought…’ She lifted her skirt and examined the lace round the bottom of her petticoat. ‘I suppose they are. This is beautiful. I wonder where it came from.’ She looked up to find Mrs Culver regarding her with a strange look. ‘You think I know? I only wish I did. I take it that the garments are mine?’

‘They are indeed, miss. And very fancy they are, too.’

The touch of disapproval, which almost amounted to hostility, in the woman’s voice, was accompanied by a very sharp look. Anne took a breath and said carefully, ‘You obviously regard me with suspicion, Mrs Culver. Why?’

‘I’m sorry if I’ve upset you. But I know that Lady Aldhurst’s dearest wish is to see Master James married and with a family.’

Somewhat mystified, Anne said, ‘That’s very natural. I hope she wishes him to be happy as well?’

‘Of course. And he will be, as long as he finds a wife from his own world, a lady of rank, breeding, a good name of her own that everyone knows. People in London don’t like mysteries.’

Mrs Culver’s intention was now plain. Though annoyed, Anne said calmly enough, ‘You are worried that Lord Aldhurst might be distracted from this goal by me, perhaps? You needn’t be, I assure you. But what have my clothes to do with it?’

‘They’re all wrong. Not even one of the kitchen maids here would wear the dress and boots you had on when you arrived. They’re more like a tavern wench’s things. But your underclothes are quite different.’

Anne began to laugh. ‘You’re suspicious because my chemise and my petticoat don’t match my dress and boots? But that is absurd!’

Mrs Culver flushed unbecomingly. ‘Master James brought you here, Miss Anne, and we’ve looked after you as well as anyone could expect. But—I’ll come straight out with it—we still don’t know who you are or where you came from.’

Anne gave her a twisted smile. ‘Any more than I do.’ There was an awkward, significant silence…The colour rose in Anne’s cheeks. ‘Oh, come, ma’am!’ she said angrily. ‘You surely cannot think I’m playacting!’

‘I suppose not. But how can we be sure?’

Anne went to the window and stood with her back to the housekeeper until she had mastered her anger. Then she turned and said, ‘I do not remember who I am or how I came to be lying on your drive. But I promise you that as soon as I feel I can face the world again I shall leave Hatherton, whether my memory has returned or not. Will that do?’

Mrs Culver looked uncomfortable. ‘I don’t want to be cruel, Miss Anne. But I know Master James, and I can see he’s taken a fancy to you. And it mustn’t go any further. It would break his grandmother’s heart if he married badly. He is all she has left.’

‘Yes, well, if that is the case we must hope that he doesn’t actually fall in love with someone who is as unsuitable as I am,’ said Anne crisply. ‘But he is in no danger from me.’ She took up her book. ‘Now I think I’ve had enough of this conversation. Thank you for the clothes. When Lord Aldhurst returns you may tell him that I have a headache, and would prefer not to see him this evening.’

Mrs Culver found herself curtsying in response to the authoritative tone in Anne’s voice, and left the room rather apprehensively, wondering if she was making a mistake. Those last sentences had sounded as if they came from someone of quality, not at all the owner of a shabby dress.

But she delivered Anne’s message as requested that evening. And Master James’s air of disappointment reassured her once again that she was doing the right thing.

After Mrs Culver had gone, Anne sat at the window for some time with the book on her knee, but it lay unread. She was deep in thought. The housekeeper’s suspicions were ridiculous, but Anne could not disagree with her basic message. The sooner she left Hatherton the better. She sighed and set about some serious thinking…

She reflected again on the previous night’s dreams. The red door—where was it? She could almost believe she had actually tried and failed to knock on that door, and not just in her dream…She had been excited, full of happy anticipation, she remembered…But though she tried to hold on to it the picture dissolved and turned into a pool of blood. She heard her own voice shouting hoarsely, ‘No! No! It can’t be!’ and she suddenly felt sick. She thrust the image violently away out of her mind, and the pool vanished. But she was still shivering with horror…James’s book slid to the floor as she jumped up and walked agitatedly round the room, resolutely keeping her mind blank. She would not remember, it was better not to remember…

After a moment or two she had calmed down enough to sit down again and turn her mind to other matters. Was there a clue in the petticoat and the rest of her clothes? Had the boots and dress belonged to someone else? But who could that be…?

When Rose came in Anne was wearing nothing but the blue robe, anxiously examining her underwear.

‘Help me to look at these things, Rose,’ she said. ‘There must be something about them that will tell us where they came from.’

‘I’d say that they were especially made for you, Miss Anne. You can tell that by looking at this shaping. But there’s nothing else. And this dress is just like one the girls in the village wear.’

Anne pushed the clothes away dispiritedly. ‘I’m quite tired. I think I shall go to bed, Rose. Mrs Culver knows I don’t wish to see…anyone tonight.’

Rose nodded sympathetically. ‘You’ve done too much today, miss. But his lordship will be sorry not to see you.’ She said no more as she busied herself helping Anne to prepare for bed, but just before leaving the room she asked if Anne would like a glass of milk later on. ‘It’s a long time till morning, Miss Anne. A glass of milk might be welcome. I won’t wake you if you’re asleep.’

Too weary to argue, Anne nodded her head. She was already half-asleep by the time Rose had made up the fire, drawn the curtains and slipped quietly away.

She slept soundly and dreamlessly for several hours, but woke up when she heard her door open. The fire had died down somewhat, but there was enough light for her to see someone entering the room and approaching the bed.

‘Rose?’

‘I’m afraid it isn’t Rose.’ James Aldhurst put the glass of milk he was carrying down on the table by the bed, picked up her candlestick and took it over to the fire. In a few minutes the soft glow of candles was creating a pool of light round the bed.

Chapter Five

‘You shouldn’t be here!’ whispered Anne.

‘It isn’t late. No later than when I came last night. How is your head?’

‘My head? Oh, yes, my head! It’s much better, thank you. Why did you come?’

‘I was afraid you might be ill again. So when I saw Rose with the glass of milk I said I would deliver it.’

‘You shouldn’t have done that. Mrs Culver—’

‘Mrs Culver is in bed with a headache. Let me help you to sit up.’

He leaned over, and supported her with one arm while he rearranged her pillows. ‘There! Now drink the milk.’

He handed her the glass and sat down on the edge of the bed. She sipped it, looking at him warily over the rim of the glass. He took the glass from her and said, ‘I have some news for you.’

Anne leaned forwards eagerly. ‘You’ve found out who I am!’

‘No, no! Nothing as helpful as that.’ When she sank back disappointed against the pillows he went on, ‘But it might be a beginning. There was a coach accident the night we found you. It’s thought that the driver took a wrong turning a mile or two back along the Portsmouth Road and ended up stranded by a stretch of flood water. He tried to get back over Firland Cross Bridge, which any local knows is barely wide enough for a cart, let alone a full-sized coach. The coach lost a wheel and crashed into the stream.’

‘Who was he? Where is he now?’

‘Ah, that’s the problem. He can’t have been very seriously injured. The coach was a complete wreck, so he took the horses and abandoned it. He has disappeared.’

Anne didn’t respond. She was staring into the darkness, her eyes full of horror. James went on, ‘It’s probable there were two of them, but if so the other one has disappeared, too. There were two horses. Two horses and two men.’

‘Two men. One on the box, one inside,’ whispered Anne, her eyes wide and unfocused. ‘That’s all. Only two. One on the box and one inside. Don’t give up hope! There are only two of them. One on the box and the other—’ She suddenly gave a scream and thrust out her hands in a frantic gesture to save herself. ‘Aaah! Oh, please God, help me!’

‘Anne? Anne!’ James took her by the shoulders and shook her. For a moment she was rigid, staring at him without seeing him. Then she relaxed, gave a shuddering sigh, and threw herself into his arms. He held her close as she said hoarsely, ‘The coach overturned and water was rising inside it. I thought I was going to die. But I fought…and suddenly I was free…The stream was cold, but it wasn’t far to the bank…And afterwards I ran and ran. I had such a pain in my side, I didn’t know where I was going, but I dared not stop. I could hear them behind me…Then I slipped and I was so sure they would catch me again…’

She was shivering, and he held her fast, stroking her hair. ‘Hush, hush. You didn’t die, they didn’t catch you, and you’re quite safe here with me.’

She lay in the circle of his arms and gradually the shivering stopped and she was quiet. Still holding her, he sat, thinking over what she had just said. This was without doubt the coach that had carried her into the district. He must have a look at it tomorrow.

That was for tomorrow, but tonight he was beginning to realise exactly what Anne had been through. She had at last remembered something, but he could almost wish it had remained buried for her sake—the horror of the accident, her helplessness as the water rose inside the coach, her certainty that she was about to drown…And then her panic-stricken flight, which had ended in her collapse on the drive at Hatherton. Throughout it all was her refusal to give in, her determination to survive. Sam had called her a brave lass, but he didn’t know the half of it. James was visited by a fierce desire to defend her, to find the villains who had put her into such mortal danger, and make them suffer for it.

He sat holding her for a little longer, surprised again at the depth of his feelings. They were a far cry from the light-hearted flirtations, the short-lived affairs, which had earned him his grandmother’s disapproval. But he wasn’t sure that that lady would approve of his growing interest in Anne, either. In fact, he was damn certain she wouldn’t! He could hear her now, not shouting—his grandmother never shouted—but with a voice icy with anger. ‘What are you trying to do, James? Ruin us? Make us the laughing stock of the scandal sheets? Have you considered what the world will make of this? Barbara Furness, Mary Abernauld, Clara Paston—all of them the cream of London society! And now you insult them and me by spending your time with a…a nameless nobody. Aldhurst of Roade House and Miss Who Knows What of Nobody Knows Where! I won’t have it, I tell you! I won’t have it!’ Yes, he was quite sure his grandmother would not approve. Shaking his head ruefully, he put Anne gently back against the pillows. For the moment it was more important to establish her identity. He looked at her. There were traces of tears on her face, but she looked very beautiful. He bent over and kissed her cheek. She murmured a small protest, but didn’t wake. James picked up one of the candles, blew the rest out and left.

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