Hidden Affections (5 page)

“All the more reason to leave and make my own way in this world,” she whispered, determined not to be swayed by a sweet-talking womanizer. Not again. Not even if he did come from the wealthiest and most prestigious family in Philadelphia.

When the coach stopped in front of his Philadelphia home the following evening, Harrison ranked his decision to spend some time on his country estate in western Pennsylvania as the greatest mistake of his life—quite an accomplishment considering the many mistakes he had made over the course of the past several years.

If any one of his friends had told him four months ago when he left that he was going to return with a wife, he would have called them an addled fool and laughed. He was most definitely not laughing now, and only the thought that he would soon be single again gave him the strength to tolerate this very temporary marriage and keep his hidden heartache and pain at bay.

Although still feeling weak and travel-weary, he helped Annabelle down from the coach a good half day after he had expected to arrive. He watched with amusement as she looked about to get her very first glimpse of the property his family had occupied for nearly a hundred years. Massive stone walls, with narrow doors to provide access from the street, started at the sides of the house and continued around the perimeter of the property that swallowed up nearly half a city block.

The walls guaranteed privacy for him, as well as his guests, to enjoy spacious gardens in fair weather. In addition, the narrow doors allowed him to slip in or out of the house without alerting the staff or any of the neighbors.

The mansion itself was constructed of red brick, like most houses in the city, but the entranceway was by far one of the most ostentatious. Tall marble columns supported an intricately decorated gable roof over the massive front door, which was surrounded by more marble and small glass windows that allowed the light from a crystal chandelier in the foyer to illuminate two wide marble steps outside and spill out to the walkway.

Heavy wool curtains covering the windows on the second and third floors blocked out the unusual cold but also kept any houselights from shining out. Since he had not been in residence for some time, Harrison did not expect the rooms to be lit, since the staff lived in quarters behind the kitchen at the rear of the house.

Annabelle dropped her hood, in spite of the frigid wind whipping at her cape, and gripped his arm to maintain her balance on the icy walkway in front of the house. With her cheeks brushed pink by the cold and her pale green eyes wide with wonder and disbelief, she looked up at him. “This is where you live?”

“Only for the past eight years,” he admitted. After he waved off the drivers, he ushered her toward the house, but he kept their pace slow and deliberate in order to avoid slipping. He was anxious to get her inside before anyone noticed he had not returned home alone, but he was twice as anxious to crawl into his own bed. Tomorrow would be a long day, and he would need a good night’s rest if he planned to meet with his lawyer and make all the necessary arrangements to place this woman in a proper boardinghouse by tomorrow night at the latest.

She tilted her head back to get a full view of the three-storied mansion. “The house looks quite grand, even at night. I can only imagine what it must look like in the full light of day,” she murmured.

He chuckled. “I’ve heard that some people actually refer to it as Graymoor Castle,” he said, unwilling to admit that he had only moved into this massive house out of a sense of duty to family tradition—one of the few family traditions he had chosen to follow when he became the sole remaining heir to the family name and fortune.

She dropped her gaze. “Those high walls on either side do make it look like a fortress of sorts,” she offered as they approached the entranceway.

“They’re only there to protect the rather extensive gardens, which I fear may not survive this brutal winter.” He was surprised when she stopped, forcing him to do the same.

She pointed to the narrow door within the wall, nearly hidden by night shadows. “Since neither one of us would like to make our presence known, wouldn’t it be better to slip inside one of those side doors instead of using the main entrance? It’s so well lit, I suspect someone will notice us.”

“We’ll be inside well before we’re noticed,” he countered and ushered her up the two marble steps to the landing at the main entry. Before he even had a chance to knock, however, the door swung open. Pleased that the staff had been alerted to his return by the instructions he had forwarded through the innkeeper, he greeted the staid housekeeper, Mrs. Faye, with a smile.

She acknowledged them both with a prim nod of her head but spoke directly to him. “Good evening, sir. Welcome home,” she murmured as she stepped back to allow them entrance. “Your rooms are ready, just as you instructed,” she informed him as she closed the door behind them.

“It’s a relief to be back,” he replied. Once he had Annabelle safely inside, he helped her out of her cape. After he had removed his own heavy cloak and hat, he bent down to kiss the housekeeper’s cheek before handing her all the garments.

Flustered as usual by his informal manners, she swiped at her cheek before carrying the garments to a narrow bench at the far end of the hallway and leaving them there.

While he waited for her to return before introducing Annabelle as the young woman he had described in his instructions, he caught the sound of laughter and conversation coming from the second floor, which was reserved for entertaining, saw the light spilling down the staircase, and froze.

“Mr. Philip is in residence, and he’s entertaining tonight,” the housekeeper explained when she rejoined them. “Before anyone comes downstairs, please allow me to extend to you best wishes from the entire staff, sir.”

“Best wishes?” Harrison managed and dismissed the notion that he should have taken Annabelle’s suggestion not to enter the house through the front door. Instead, he tried to wrap his mind around the fact that they were not alone in the house, as well as the highly improbable notion that news of his marriage had somehow reached the city.

“On your recent marriage, of course. We’re all delighted.” She walked over to the narrow rosewood side table next to the staircase and handed him a copy of
The Philadelphia
Inquirer
.

He heard Annabelle gasp slightly, but he was far more interested in reading the announcement printed above the fold on the first page, fully aware that she had leaned closer and was also silently reading it:

Readers will be delighted to learn that the city’s most eligible bachelor, Harrison Graymoor, has wed, although many of this city’s maidens are bound to be disappointed. He is expected to return to the city with his bride very soon, at which time we will be providing the details surrounding this most newsworthy event, which may well be the highlight of this year’s social news.

Shocked, Harrison struggled to maintain control and grimly handed the newspaper back to the housekeeper. Gauging his sour mood, she quickly disappeared, leaving him standing in the foyer alone, with Annabelle at his side. He looked down at the trembling woman by his side and saw the same disbelief and distress he felt etched into her pale features.

“H-how could you let this happen?” she whispered.

“Obviously, I didn’t ‘let this happen.’ I didn’t want anyone here to learn of our marriage any more than you did.” He raked his hand through his hair.

“What are you going to do now?”

“Obviously our plans to keep this marriage secret, as well as the eventual annulment, are no longer viable.” Frustration made his words short and clipped. His mind raced to formulate another plan of action before anyone ventured downstairs.

“But what are you going to do about it?” she asked, taking a step back, as if she were prepared to rush right back out the door and disappear if she did not like the answer he gave her.

“I don’t know,” he murmured. “But for now, I suggest we take the servants’ staircase in the back of the house to the third floor before anyone else knows we’re here.” He was unwilling to even think about the many notables his cousin had likely gathered together on the second floor for one of his fund-raising events.

But he was too late.

They had barely taken two steps when he heard the door at the top of the stairs open and someone rush down the steps. “Cousin! You’re back!”

Harrison recognized Philip’s voice and fought the urge to run straight back to him and strangle him. Literally.

Instead, he stopped and turned around, urging Annabelle to do the same, but kept her standing slightly behind him. “Don’t say a word. Just follow my lead,” he whispered before he glared at the man who approached them wearing a grin on his face that Harrison could only describe as indescribably silly for a man who was only a few years shy of forty.

“Cousin!” he exclaimed, using the familial term again instead of Harrison’s given name, which was his most annoying custom. “Mrs. Faye informed me that your coach had pulled up. I’m sorry for rushing down so quickly, but I simply could not wait any longer to welcome you back and meet your new wife,” he said and extended his hand.

Begrudgingly, Harrison accepted his cousin’s handshake. “Philip. You seem to appear and disappear—”

“At the most inconvenient of times, I know. But this time, let me be quick to apologize. If I’d known you were returning tonight with your bride, I would have changed my plans. By the time we received word you were coming home, it was too late to cancel my dinner party. Besides, the shortage of firewood in the city is so severe, forcing the price beyond the means of far too many souls, that I simply had to help raise funds to provide them with some relief one last time before I left the city.” He leaned around Harrison to get a better look at Annabelle.

“She’s lovely. Quite lovely indeed. Now hurry and introduce us before everyone else pours downstairs to get a glimpse of her,” he insisted before he addressed Annabelle. “I really must get you to tell me how you managed to get this cousin of mine to slip a ring on your finger.”

Harrison fumed. Now he needed to buy a ring, if only to keep up appearances, and he scowled. Although he was an inch or two below six feet, he was still taller and carried more muscle than his slimly built older cousin. Stretching to his full height, he stared down at him. “I’ll introduce you, of course, but I’d also ask you to consider that my wife and I are quite fatigued from travel. Neither one of us is prepared to visit with you or anyone else tonight,” he explained.

When Annabelle shyly stepped forward, he quickly introduced her to Philip, who kissed the back of her hand and offered her a smile of approval. “You look remarkably beautiful, in spite of your travel,” he murmured. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you a bit before I leave for Boston. I’d almost given up hope that Harrison would ever settle down.”

Harrison dismissed the odd twinge of jealousy that coursed through his body as nothing more than the direct result of his fatigue, rather than any concern that Philip was being overly attentive to Annabelle. Placing his hand gently at her back, he nodded to Philip. “If you’ll excuse us, my wife and I would both like to retire, and I’d appreciate it if you would not mention anything about our arrival to your many guests.” He then urged a quiet and totally amenable Annabelle toward the back of the foyer.

“Harrison Graymoor! If you think you can bring home a bride and fail to introduce us, you’re quite mistaken, young man.”

He stopped abruptly, recognizing the voice immediately. Glancing at Annabelle, he noted his own disappointment and frustration mirrored in her wide eyes. There were many people he could dismiss, by virtue of his standing in this community, or disarm with a smile.

Unfortunately, Mrs. John Wilshire III was not one of them.

As one of the city’s social elites, the elderly matron prided herself on her ability to spread as much gossip as possible, but she was also one of Philip’s major contributors to the many charitable causes he had taken up.

When Harrison turned around to reply to her, he was even more dismayed to see that she was not alone. Many, if not all, of his cousin’s guests were filing down the staircase to join Mrs. Wilshire in the foyer. He would be hard pressed to escape without providing them with at least some of the details surrounding his marriage, and he drew in a long, deep breath of air to try to clear his head.

As easy as it was for him to fully engage and entertain most people—especially an attractive woman he found even mildly interesting—it was hard for him to think of a way to satisfy everyone in the crowd of men and women before him. At least in a way that would make his ultimate decision to end his marriage seem reasonable.

Swallowing hard, he took Annabelle’s trembling hand in his own and saw her tuck her other hand within the folds of her skirt, no doubt hiding the fact that she had no wedding ring on her finger. He plastered a smile on his face, and he was pleased when Annabelle did the same.

“What are you going to tell them all?” she whispered as she stepped a bit closer to him.

He forced himself to smile. “As little as possible,” he murmured. “I suggest you simply agree with whatever I say or do.”

“That’s worked well for both of us so far tonight, hasn’t it?” she quipped.