Hidden Affections (11 page)

Harrison knew there could be any number of surprises waiting for him when he returned home to Graymoor Gardens late Sunday afternoon. But he was bringing back news of his own that may not exactly please Annabelle or Irene.

Surprised to see much deeper snow here in the countryside, he instructed Graham to bypass the approach to the main house altogether. He dismissed him when they reached the shortcut to the cottage he had used many, many times as a youth to return from one escapade or another. He entered the kitchen, hoping to speak to Irene before he saw Annabelle, and frowned. Irene was nowhere in sight, and the only evidence that supper was going to be served tonight was a rather tempting-looking strudel left to cool on the table.

Well aware of Irene’s limitations when it came to desserts other than apple pie, he dismissed any thought of slicing off a piece of the strudel. “Appearances can be rather misleading,” he murmured.

Anxious to find his housekeeper, he went straight to the basement tunnel and met her when he was halfway to the main house. “I’m rather hungry. Are you serving anything for supper tonight other than strudel?” he teased after planting a kiss on her forehead.

Clearly flustered, she swatted at his arm. “You should save your kisses for your wife, although I’ve a mind to give you a bit of advice on how to help that young woman adjust to married life. You should try spending the night here at home instead of going back to the city, too.”

Harrison ignored her reprimand, but cringed at the thought that his wife had spent the past day or so sulking.

“And don’t tell me how to run my kitchen,” she added. “I’ve got a very hearty supper planned, although I’m serving it a bit later than usual, since we have a guest.”

“What guest?” he asked, surprised that any of the city’s matrons would have broken with custom and decided to call on the new Mrs. Graymoor without being invited.

“Mr. Philip arrived several hours ago.”

His hands clenched into fists. He had not seen Philip at all back at the mansion yesterday afternoon. Last night he had spent the entire evening getting reacquainted with a few old friends who were equally inclined to enjoy some of the more pleasurable pursuits the area had to offer. He met them on Petty’s Island, a small bit of land located close to the New Jersey coastline that was also well beyond the scrutiny of the prim and proper city elites.

Today he had slept until midmorning and left to complete a few necessary errands in the afternoon, assuming that his cousin must have already left for Boston, as planned.

More anxious than ever to reach Annabelle now that he knew Philip had not left the area at all, he quickly told Irene about the surprise he had for her. “I’ve hired a replacement for Jane,” he informed her. Before her frown ended with a reminder that he should have consulted her first, he held up his hand. “She’s already been told that you have the right to decide whether or not she’s the right person to add to the staff. She’s been promised a week to prove herself. Nothing more.”

Irene sighed. “When is this woman supposed to arrive?”

“In a few days.”

“One week, you said?”

When he nodded, she merely shrugged. “I’ll have Peggy get Jane’s room tidied up first thing tomorrow.”

He kissed her forehead again and grinned. “Good. Now if you’ll excuse me, I should get to the house to see Annabelle and Philip.”

“Take your time. They’re not back yet.”

He clenched his jaw. “Back from where?” he asked, holding a tight rein on his temper.

“If you must know, Mr. Philip took her for a sleigh ride, but don’t blame him. I suggested it. And before anyone else tells you, I didn’t make the strudel you mentioned by myself. Annabelle helped me, so you might want to try a slice, although I did add a few plums you seem to detest so much,” she quipped and walked past him to get back to the cottage.

After pacing back and forth in the parlor for a very long hour while his imagination flashed all sorts of troubling images of Philip and Annabelle in his mind’s eye, Harrison finally heard the muted sound of horses’ hooves drawing the sleigh up the circular drive.

He parted the delicate curtain that had replaced the heavy woolen drapes on the windows and doors, including the ones that led out to the portico overlooking the river, but he was careful to only pull back enough of the fabric to get a clear view of the outside without being noticed. He took one glance at the couple seated next to each other with a thick blanket lying across their laps to keep them warm and instantly dropped the curtain back into place. But the image had already been indelibly etched in his mind.

With her cheeks flushed pink and her lips forming a smile, Annabelle’s features had been lit with total joy. He had never seen her look this happy or this . . . “Radiant,” he whispered and clenched his fist. He fought against a surge of jealousy that was almost as instinctive as it was annoying, especially when he considered Philip was the one who was responsible for her transformation. He also found it odd to be jealous when his relationship to Annabelle was based on sheer circumstance, rather than anything as dangerous as affection.

Fortunately, Philip was scheduled to leave any day now to return to Boston. As for his own feelings where Annabelle was concerned . . . he knew it was too great a risk to have any feelings for her at all if he wanted to avoid the inevitable heartache she represented as his wife.

He turned and set a chair before the fire so he could warm himself and still see both of them the moment they entered the room. When he noted the knitting bag sitting on the seat, he paused to look inside, and smiled. She had not started to knit anything yet, but she had stored her knitting stick and needles in the bag—which meant he was relatively safe as long as he kept that bag out of her reach.

After placing it out of sight in the far corner, he sat down and waited. He tensed when he heard the front door open, but quickly relaxed when he heard Philip drive away with the sleigh. Relieved that he would have a few moments alone with Annabelle while Philip took the sleigh back to the cottage and turned it over to Alan, he was also determined to surprise Annabelle by being more understanding of the difficult position she was in.

He listened to her footsteps as she walked down the long, narrow foyer, stopping only long enough to store away her winter outerwear.

She was smiling and humming softly when she lifted the baize cloth covering the doorway and entered the dining area. She lost her smile, as well as her voice, when she spied him, just as he was getting to his feet. “I knew you were planning to return this afternoon, but I . . . I didn’t expect you’d arrive this early.” She tilted up her chin just a tad and joined him in the parlor. After taking a seat on the winged sitting bench across from him, she folded her hands demurely on her lap.

Surprised by her graceful movements, he had trouble gathering his own wits. Unlike her baggy, poorly fitting travel gown, the lavender day gown she was wearing fit her to perfection and hinted at her tempting womanly curves. Instead of the long braid or tight bun, her blond hair was gathered up into a shimmering net held in place at the crown of her head. Indeed, her grace and beauty rivaled that of the city’s most beautiful women, a most unexpected turn of events, considering she was born and bred in the rural part of the state.

Pleased to see she was wearing her wedding ring, he smiled. “I didn’t expect to find you gone or my cousin here visiting. I’m glad you’re back,” he said, keeping all hint of displeasure out of his voice. “You appear to have survived the snowstorm rather well.”

She blushed, adding even more color to her cheeks. “I’ve found ways to keep busy,” she replied and glanced around the room.

“Your knitting bag is over there,” he said, pointing to the far corner of the room. “Other than reading, if you went back to the library to get that book you left behind, or getting your knitting bag in order or teaching Irene how to bake something other than apple pie . . . what else have you done to keep yourself occupied?”

She raised one brow. “You don’t mind that I’ve been teaching Irene how to bake—”

“Anything you can teach her in that regard is more than fine with me, although I’d rather not have anything with plums in it.”

“Then that would include teaching her how to read so she can use the recipes I’ve written out for her or any others she might find, too, wouldn’t it?” she asked, her lips once again shaping a smile.

He swallowed hard, unable to fathom an argument that might undermine her logic. He also found himself unwilling to take away even this limited opportunity for her to resume her role as a teacher—a role she would lose forever once her name was tainted by their eventual divorce. “No objection at all. In fact, I can see some real advantage, since she’ll be better able to verify that the charges for supplies I’ve ordered are valid instead of relying on the deliveryman’s word,” he admitted. Harrison rose to place a small box on her lap before he retook his seat. “I had the opal ring resized, and I’d like you to wear it Thursday night.”

Growing pale, she did not make any effort to open the box. “
This
Thursday? That’s only four days from now. Isn’t that a bit soon for us to be going—”

“There’s an annual ball this Thursday that’s too important for us not to attend. I was hoping we could spend some time together talking about what you might expect from a social event that is probably much more formal than what you’re accustomed to.” He offered her a reassuring smile, although in truth, he would feel much more comfortable about attending himself if he knew Vienna Biddle was not going to be there.

“I appreciate your concern, but there’s no need.” She dropped her gaze for a moment before looking back at him again. “While I was raised in a very small town, which you already know, I was fortunate to be able to attend Hamilton Female Academy, which prepared me for much more than the teaching position I obtained with Mrs. Peale.”

“Go on,” he prompted when she seemed reluctant to continue.

She drew in a long breath, but her gaze was steady when she met his own. “At Hamilton, I learned when to talk and when to hold silent when attending formal or informal events. I know what topics to choose for polite conversation and which to avoid and . . . and I even learned how to dance, although I’m not very good at it. I haven’t had the opportunity to practice much of what I learned, but I’ll do my best not to embarrass you.”

Held captive by her pale green eyes, which glistened with hope and earnestness, he dropped his guard. In the space of a single breath, she nearly slipped past all the defenses he had built up to protect his heart, something other women with far more experience had never been able to do. But he raised his guard just in time to avoid sure disaster and drew another very long, very deep breath. “Perhaps I could simply tell you about some of the people you’re likely to meet at the ball,” he suggested.

“Cousin! Welcome back. Did I hear you say something about the Sullivans’ ball this week? I assume you’ll both be attending,” Philip said as he entered the room.

Once Harrison rose and exchanged handshakes, Philip sat down right next to Annabelle.

Harrison shrugged. “Is there anyone of any importance in the city who won’t be attending?” he asked, growing annoyed that his cousin was sitting just a little too close to Annabelle to suit him.

Philip laughed, but he looked at Annabelle when he replied, “I hope you’ll save a dance for me.”

“I thought you were returning to Boston to spend Christmas with your sister and her family,” Harrison blurted before she had a chance to respond.

“That was exactly my plan until yesterday, when I got word from my sister that two of her children had taken sick, along with her husband,” he replied. “I didn’t think you’d mind if I stayed for another week or two, considering that you’ll be living out here with your wife now. I contacted Mrs. Sullivan to see if it was possible for me to rescind the decline I’d sent her, and she was gracious enough to assure me that I’d be welcome to attend.” He narrowed his gaze. “Unless that interferes somehow with your plans or you mind that I’ll be relying on your hospitality a little while longer,” he added.