An Inconvenient Wife (3 page)

“Claude Meraux, mistress.”
He sketched a cursory bow, his scowl replaced by an equally unpleasant leer.

“
Monsieur.
” Anne
tipped her head in acknowledgement, turned her face aside long enough to wink
at the children, and stepped into the stream of shoppers. Knowing Maggie would
soon realize her intent, Anne walked as slowly as possible.

“Are you mad? What are we
going to do with a dog, when we can just about feed ourselves?” Maggie began,
the moment she caught up to Anne. “I know you wanted to help those poor
children, but surely there was some other way.” Her lips pulled back and she
drew her brows together. “Trouble, this is going to be trouble. We have no
business getting involved in the affairs of these people.”

Absentmindedly, Anne stroked
the animal in her arms, who far from seeming concerned at being carried away
from her owner, had snuggled comfortably against Anne and fallen fast asleep.
“I don’t believe she will eat much, as small as she is.” She slanted a
mischievous smile at her companion. “She can have my cabbage, in fact.”

“I doubt if dogs like
cabbage,” Maggie grumbled, but her lips quivered suspiciously.

“No one of any sense likes
cabbage,” Anne said, but her mind went right back to the animal’s owner. That
all was not well with that family was clear to the most casual on-looker.

They turned into the narrow
street where the villa stood protected by a high, stone wall that allowed only
a view of the upper stories of the large house. From the street, the somewhat
neglected condition of the building was not apparent, and Anne did hope the
children’s stepfather was unaware the Condessa spent very little time here in
the city, preferring her country home in Sintra. She unlocked the small wooden
door at the side of the huge, ornate iron gates guarding the wide entrance, and
they walked into the pleasantly cool courtyard housing the gatehouse where they
lived. A wide expanse of handsome paving stones stretched the length of the
villa, and several large oaks provided welcome shade.

“I had to do something and
couldn’t think of anything better,” Anne said, as she opened the door to the
small house snugged against the wall. The gatehouse had stood unoccupied for
several years before Anne and her faithful companions had taken up residence.
However, a good scrubbing had worked wonders. The gatehouse was sparsely
furnished, but those pieces were of good quality and the small rooms adequate
to their needs. Not for the first time, Anne sent silent thanks heavenward for
the good fortune that had led to their residence here.

“I suppose you did,” Maggie
said, “but interfering in someone else’s affairs, when we are hardly in a
position to bring attention to us, is a mistake.” Looking resigned, she shifted
the basket into the crook of one arm and held out her other for the dog. “Here,
I’ll take her and get her settled in the kitchen. You can start thinking about
how you are going to explain this to Mr. Fenton, and just what you are going to
do with those children.”

Maggie trudged away, still
grumbling, but Anne knew the woman, who had all but raised her, had a heart
almost as soft as her own. Maggie and Bill Fenton had come into the McKenzie
family with her mother when she married the dashing Captain McKenzie and had
stayed on after Mrs. McKenzie’s death to care for Anne. Now, with the death of
Anne’s father, they were all she had left. What family remained in Scotland she
hardly knew, for with the exception of a rare visit to her father’s people,
Anne and her mother had accompanied her father around the world. It was only
after her mother’s death that Anne had sometimes attended a boarding school in
Switzerland when a military post was not suitable for young women. Once she
turned eighteen, however, Anne was usually able to travel with her father and
the Fentons.

Her mind still on the events
of the past few hours, and trying to decide what she was going to do if
Monsieur
Meraux refused to allow the children to come as charged, Anne removed her head
scarf and went into her bedchamber to wash her face and hands. She grimaced at
the disheveled woman reflected in the tiny mirror hanging above the washstand
and picked up a brush. Hair neither blond nor brown, but what she considered a
not especially attractive mixture, combined with a straight nose and ordinary
mouth into an ordinary face. Her eyes, green with flecks of amber, were her
best feature, but even they couldn’t make her anything more than passable.

Which
,
she told the person looking wanly back at her,
is to the good
.
The
last thing in the world you want is to attract the attention of a man. You
succumbed to that trap once before and look where it’s gotten you.
Stuck
in a foreign country, with limited funds and the constant fear of discovery—if
they could just get to England!

Chapter Three

Anne and the dog settled on
a bench outside the gatehouse to wait for the Fentons to return from collecting
the children. She often sat there, enjoying the subtle perfume from the
flowering vines clinging to the house and wall. A fountain provided a soothing
tinkle of water and enormous pots filled with greenery were scattered
throughout the courtyard.

She was grateful that none
of the Condessa’s family chose to live here, meaning Anne was free to make it
her temporary home. Fate had placed the Condessa and her maid on the same ship
from Gibraltar as Anne. The Portuguese women had been dreadfully sea sick, with
only Anne and Maggie willing to nurse them
.
She never expected the
Condessa’s generous offer of a place to stay when Anne let fall her need for
somewhere out of the way to live.

The sound of children’s
voices roused her from her reflections, and Anne hurried to greet them. “
Bonjour,
mes enfants
. It is very good to see you. Bonnie has missed you.” Indeed,
Anne felt the animal in her arms quivering with excitement.

The boy’s solemn expression
lightened. “
Bonjour, mam’selle
.” Gravely polite, but equally aquiver, he
achieved a credible bow before he held out his hands. Bonnie yipped, leapt to
Guy, and licked his face.

Anne watched the reunion for
a moment, and then turned to Danielle, who dropped a brief curtsey and motioned
toward the black-clad woman standing behind her. “Our maid, Fatima, is charged
with our care.”

Somewhat taken aback by the
presence of the maidservant, although she should have expected they would not
come alone, Anne hesitated. She had planned to sit outside, giving Guy and his
pet room to play, but she felt uncomfortable asking the woman to do so,
especially since the seating consisted of several rustic chairs and a bench.
She looked at Maggie and Bill, lingering to watch the scene, and sent Maggie a
silent appeal.

“Fatima will do fine with me
in the kitchen,” Maggie said at once. “We can fix some juice for the children.”
She beckoned to the maid, managed a credible “Come, please,” in Portuguese, and
walked toward the house. Bill took that as his cue to disappear as well.

“That will be very nice.”
Anne smiled and then looked at Danielle. “I thought it might be pleasant to sit
outside. It will give Guy room to play with Bonnie.” Indeed, boy and dog were
already scrambling about in some game or another. She sat down and motioned
toward the other half of the bench. “Please join me, Miss Durant.”

“
Mam’selle.
”

The girl was poised on the
edge of the seat, her expression no less rigid than her set shoulders, and Anne
hid her dismay. Gaining this child’s trust was going to be difficult.

“Was it a fair distance to
come from your home? I am not familiar with much of Oporto, other than the
market and this immediate neighborhood.”

“Not very far,
mam’selle
.”
Danielle slanted a quick glance at Anne. “Thank you for sending your people to
escort us.”

“Why, you are quite welcome.
I hope the fact that Mr. and Mrs. Fenton speak very little French did not cause
difficulties with your stepfather.”

“
Monsieur
Meraux was
not to home.”

Anne could not determine
from this flat statement whether the child was pleased or sorry, and there was
little to learn from that stony expression.

 “Does your Fatima speak
French?”

“No, but I have learned some
Portuguese and we manage.”

“I have learned very little
Portuguese, I’m afraid,” Anne said with an apologetic smile, “and my French is
no more than adequate. You will need to be patient with me.”

Danielle studied her for a
long moment. “You do very well,
mam’selle
. Also, I know some English.
Together we shall contrive.” She glanced at her brother, who was tossing a ball
to Bonnie, then looked straight at Anne. “Will you tell me, please, why you
helped us yesterday? Why you pretended to be angry and offered to take Bonnie?”

Anne answered honestly. She
could not expect this guarded and fearful girl to confide in her if she began
with evasions or lies. “I had the feeling your stepfather planned to make an
end to your pet. I don’t know what Bonnie did to make him so furious, but the
punishment seemed excessive, and I was afraid that if I tried to defend you it
would make things worse.”

Danielle bit at her bottom
lip, glanced again at her brother, and after a brief hesitation, nodded her
agreement. “
Monsieur
Meraux does not care for dogs. He has wanted to get
rid of Bonnie almost from the time Guy found her.” She paused, took a quick
breath, and said in a rush, “My brother would be
désolé
. The dog is a tie to our
life in France, for we found her just before we left to come here.” She dropped
her gaze to the hands folded tightly in her lap. “She is a comfort to Guy.”

To you as well, Anne judged,
but refrained from any comment, and indeed, Danielle’s head came up, the
careful stolid expression back in place, and the moment passed. A not
uncomfortable silence fell between them, and Anne unobtrusively studied the
girl beside her. Her black hair was pulled back from her face without so much
as a wisp allowed to escape the thick braid wound tightly around her head. It
seemed a harsh style for so young a girl. She could be no more than twelve or
thirteen at most. Nor did it compliment her too-thin face. It appeared the
child was determined not to allow even her hair to display any emotion.

How could she break through
this unnatural reserve? Anne turned the puzzle over in her mind until Guy and
Bonnie had tired of their game and the boy came across the courtyard to sit on
the ground at his sister’s feet, the dog in his lap. Anne looked at his flushed
face and smiled.

“Are you thirsty? I’m sure
Mrs. Fenton has something refreshing ready for you. Will you excuse me for a
moment?” She stood and hurried to the kitchen, where Maggie had two cups of
juice already poured. Fatima was not in evidence and Anne raised her eyebrows
in question.

“She went off to some shop
or other,” Maggie said with an indifferent twitch of one shoulder. “At least
that’s what I think she said.”

Startled at this casual
supervision, Anne looked at Maggie in surprise. “The woman does not seem a
proper guardian, but at least you are spared her company.”

Anne picked up the tray,
carried it outside, and handed the children their drinks before resuming her
seat. She was determined to use this time to her advantage. Perhaps the boy was
an easier target. “Bonnie minds very well, Guy. Did you teach her?”

Guy looked proudly at the
now sleeping dog. “She is clever, isn’t she? I taught her some things, but she
already knew sit and stay when we found her.”

“Your sister said you found
her in France.”

“Yes, it was very good luck
for us.” A quick smile lit his thin face. “Good luck for her, too, since she
was lost.”

 “It certainly was,” Anne
agreed. She caught a length of vine and wound it through her fingers. “How long
have you had her?”

Guy looked at his sister.
“It has been several months, I think.”

“Three months and two
weeks.”

The girl’s answer was more
revealing than Anne felt was intended, but at least the child had said
something.

“Do you plan a long stay in
Portugal?” she asked in as off-hand manner as possible but judging from the way
Danielle’s lips tightened and Guy buried his face in the dog’s fuzzy coat, the
question was unwelcome.

“We have not been informed
as to that. What of you,
mam’selle
? You are English but you live here?”

A short answer and a quick
change of subject. Frustrated as she felt, Anne could not help but admire the
girl’s skill. “For a short time. I expect to be leaving for England in a few
weeks.” They
had
to leave, and soon. It was just a matter of time before
her whereabouts became known. The longer they stayed here the more dangerous it
was. She leaned forward a little and added, “The Condessa has kindly allowed us
to stay here, although she herself is currently in the country and of course
has taken most of her servants with her.” It might be better if
Monsieur
Meraux was not aware of their exact circumstances here, and Anne hoped her
underlying message was clear.