Hidden Affections (12 page)

Annoyed that he had betrayed his thoughts by frowning, Harrison forced himself to smile. “Not at all,” he assured his cousin, unwilling to tell him that what he minded most of all was the look of pleasure on his wife’s face that Philip’s extended stay had inspired.

Within three days, Annabelle developed a fairly satisfying daily routine, though she still hoped to find something to do with her time that was more meaningful.

After dinner she skipped the short nap she had planned and took her knitting to the parlor with her when Philip arrived for a visit for the fourth afternoon in a row. By his suggestion, she continued to work at knitting a pair of socks to be donated to the local almshouse. It would be far more useful than the lady’s reticule she had started, and she even had plans to expand her knitting to include mittens and scarves, although she doubted she would be here long enough to finish more than a few of them. “Tell me what you’ve been able to learn about my idea,” she urged Philip, hoping to distract him from asking her for a second time to spend part of the afternoon in the city to visit some of the many landmarks.

Lounging on the winged bench seat, he sighed. “Very well. I checked this morning with Nathan Drummond, who is the director at the Refuge, which provides a temporary home for indigent women and children, and Byron Calder at the Graymoor Home for the Blind and Lame. Both welcomed your offer to volunteer your time, although they were quite surprised, given Harrison’s total lack of interest in either institution.”

Heartened, she was too excited to be able to concentrate on her knitting and set it on her lap. “They did? Truly?”

He chuckled. “If half the people I approach to support any number of charities were half as enthusiastic as you are, there wouldn’t be the great need to encourage them to untie their purse strings. Which means I wouldn’t have anything to do with my life,” he teased.

Embarrassed, she dropped her gaze. Impressed by this humble man’s decision to make his life’s work the betterment of others by raising money to help those unable to help themselves, she had already come to think of him as the brother she never had. At thirty-eight, he had no income of his own other than a small inheritance that provided for his limited needs. He also had no family of his own, yet he seemed very content and satisfied working for the benefit of others.

As unfair as it might be, she could not help but compare him to Harrison. Harrison spent much of his massive fortune indulging his own selfish interests, showing little concern about anything or anyone else. She was glad he was spending most of his days and nights back in the city, although she never knew when he was likely to show up for a few hours and leave again.

“Which institution appeals to you more?” he asked.

She glanced up at him. “Truthfully, I’m not quite certain. Perhaps once I’ve had the opportunity to visit each of them—”

“Why not do that this afternoon? I’ll take you myself and have you back in time for a late supper, although I have plans for this evening and would have to send you back in my coach alone.”

Sorely tempted, she pressed her lips together and shook her head. “I probably shouldn’t. Harrison may come back this afternoon, and I wouldn’t want him to worry if I’m not here,” she offered, although she really had no idea if he was going to return at all until the night of the ball.

Philip got to his feet. “I saw Harrison myself this morning. As I recall, he mentioned remaining in the city tonight, but said he would be returning to Graymoor Gardens tomorrow to escort you to the ball. I thought you knew.”

“No, I didn’t,” she murmured, embarrassed that she did not know of her husband’s plans for tonight. Although he had returned to tell her about the people attending the ball, he still had not finished his description of one last family, and she hoped he would find time to do that.

Without wasting another thought to worry, she stuffed her knitting back into her knitting bag. “I can be ready in ten minutes. No, wait. I need to go out to the cottage to let Irene know to plan for a late supper. Give me fifteen minutes,” she said and hurried from the room.

After storing her knitting back in her room, she rushed down the servants’ staircase and grabbed her cape and gloves, but she did not put them on until she was in the basement. By the time she entered the tunnel, she could not decide if Harrison had a single redeeming quality, other than his charm and handsome looks, which he most definitely used to his own advantage.

“Selfish, selfish man,” she grumbled as she walked. “He doesn’t even have the decency to let me know he’s not coming home so I can tell Irene, which means more food will go to waste. And I expect this man to be more supportive of the less fortunate? A man who won’t even maintain the same level of support to the very charities his own family started? That man?”

Her own words echoed back at her in the tunnel, but when she heard the sound of distant footsteps, she held silent and prayed none of the staff had heard her. She traveled a few more feet before she could see the figures of two women approaching, heard the faint echo of their conversation, and smiled. Irene probably would not have heard Annabelle at all, not with Peggy complaining to her again about something or other.

She hurried her steps but stopped dead when she was close enough to see that the woman walking next to Irene was not Peggy at all. With her heart rejoicing, she held her place until Irene was close enough for Annabelle to give her a hug. “You did it. You found Lotte! Thank you,” she whispered.

Grinning, Irene hugged her back. “I’m taking this hug because I don’t get too many, but you’re mistaken. You need to talk to Lotte and let her tell her tale. That’s why I was bringing her to you after she arrived with the rest of the deliveries Tim brought us.” Confused, Annabelle glanced at the young woman who was watching them with wide, wide eyes. “I’m so sorry you lost your position in the city,” she offered.

Lotte blushed. “It wasn’t all your fault, Mrs. Gray . . . Miss Annabelle. I promised Mr. Harrison that I’d tell you that.”

“Mr. Harrison?” Annabelle repeated, looking from Lotte to Irene and back again. “You saw Mr. Harrison?”

“Yes, ma’am. I guess he found out where I lived from Mrs. Cooper, and he came to my home and asked me if I wanted a chance to prove myself in a position out here, which I do. I surely do.”

“She’s got a week to do that,” Irene added, sternly enough to let Lotte know that she had to work hard to earn the position and to let Annabelle know that Irene would do her best to help the young woman succeed. “Tim also brought you a message from your husband,” Irene added. “He’ll be home tonight, but very late, so you shouldn’t wait up for him.”

Completely ashamed of herself for grumbling that Harrison was a selfish man with no redeeming qualities, Annabelle wondered if Irene might be right. Perhaps those qualities were really there, hidden beneath an armor only she had the power to penetrate if she could find it in her heart to accept and embrace his well-hidden permission to love him.

This was quite a ridiculous notion, given the fact that he had already started proceedings to end their marriage.

She could, however, choose to rely on Harrison to keep her informed about his plans instead of anyone else, including Philip, who had no idea that Harrison had changed his plans for the evening and would be coming home to spend it with her.

Nevertheless, she hurried back to tell Philip they only had a short time to spend in the city because she intended to be here before Harrison returned.

For the first time since she had arrived in the city of Philadelphia, Annabelle thought she might be getting a glimmer of the path God had set out before her. The need for volunteers was great at both the institutions she had visited, although she was most drawn to the plight of the women living at the Refuge. But the greatest need seemed to be for firewood, which was incredibly scarce due to the record freeze that had enveloped the city.

Philip had also taken her shopping. After ordering a diary for Harrison identical to the one she had gotten for herself, except with a darker leather cover, Philip had also escorted her to the candy store, where she wanted to purchase a few sweets as Christmas gifts for the staff—gifts Philip confirmed would be appropriate.

She had not been surprised to learn that Harrison had an account there or that the young woman who had assisted her with her purchases had very recently been hired. Annabelle assumed it had been her promised position that had been filled.

Working every day would never have allowed her to volunteer as much time as she would be able to as Harrison’s wife, and Annabelle was grateful for the opportunities before her. But accepting a settlement from him, which would give her even more freedom, still did not sit well with her.

Exhausted but exhilarated after a very long but rewarding afternoon, her stomach was growling when she entered the house, and she chuckled. She was definitely going to have second helpings of supper tonight.

She peeked into the parlor to make certain Harrison had not returned yet before she hung up her cape and hurried upstairs to hide the gifts she had purchased. Noting the uncommonly warm temperature in the house, she determined to change into a different gown and freshen up her hair before letting Irene know she had returned. She took two steps into the sleeping room, rocked back on her heels, and tightened her hold on the packages she was carrying. Supper had been put out on a small table that had been set up in front of the fire, and her husband was sitting in one of the two chairs at the table nibbling on a biscuit. “Harrison! Wh-what are you doing?”

“Nothing, other than waiting for you.” He got to his feet and waved his hand over the table. “This wasn’t my doing. Irene thought it would be a good idea for the two of us to share a quiet supper up here, rather than in the dining room.”

“You’re the master of the house. Why didn’t you tell her no?” Annabelle placed her packages on top of the lady’s writing desk before she crossed the room.

He chuckled as he helped her into her seat. “I’ve tried, but I haven’t had much success in that regard. Have you fared any better?”

“No, although when I needed to convince her that she should learn how to read, I did find a way to get around her,” she admitted. “In fact, I believe you did the very same thing recently, or so I was told before I left today.”

He sat down across from her and cocked a brow. “I did?”

“Lotte told me you sought her out and promised her a position here at Graymoor Gardens if she could prove herself to Irene. I thought you weren’t going to interfere,” she offered.

He shrugged. “I have a weak moment now and again.”

“It wasn’t a weak moment at all. It was a very kind thing to do. Thank you. It means a great deal to me that you helped her.”

He took a hot biscuit and slathered it with butter. “It’s Irene’s decision now.”

Dreadfully hungry, Annabelle, too, reached for a biscuit and quickly took a few bites. “Irene mentioned that your father had drawn up some sort of agreement that allows her to work here for the rest of her life, so you can’t dismiss her. Not for any reason. Is that really true?”

His gaze darkened with a sadness he quickly shuttered from her view, and she saw his hand tremble ever so slightly as he ladled out some thick potato soup into their bowls. “As a matter of fact, he did. It was part of his will, although I doubt he had any idea that the will would be executed as soon as it was. He and my mother were killed in a freak accident when I was only five. My older brother, Peter, was fifteen at the time.”

“How awful,” she murmured. Although he confirmed the identical dates she had seen recorded in the family Bible next to his parents’ names, he also reminded her that she should be very grateful she had been blessed to have her parents as long as she did. “Did you have family to take you and your brother in?” she asked, curious to know more, since Harrison had never even mentioned he had an older brother.

He let out a long breath and added more butter to his biscuit before he polished it off. “My mother’s sister, Ana, who was Philip’s mother, wanted us to come live with them in Boston. But my father’s will dictated that we had to remain in the family mansion, and he appointed his lawyer, Nicholas Etting, as our guardian. He raised us.”

“Is he still alive?” Annabelle asked.

Harrison stirred his soup to cool it. “No, he died a number of years back, along with my brother, Peter, and . . .” He locked his gaze on something behind her. “I should tell you about Peter,” he said.