Bought for Revenge(27)

'And it is not true that no one listened to you,' she continued angrily.  'The magistrate came to see my father, to question him. His opinion was  that if the fire was started by anyone it was your father. Everyone  knew his violent temper, many had suffered from it, but since he was  dead they decided to say nothing, to save you from disgrace and  embarrassment.'

He stared at her, his face grey, his hands clenching and unclenching at his side. 'They are lying.'

'Are they?' she flung at him. 'Why should everyone be lying save you? If  you had read my father's letter you would have seen that all the facts  were there, such as they are. The old magistrate is dead now, so it is  merely the memory of one ten-year-old boy against my father's word. How  dare you expect me to believe you rather than him!' She put her hands  against his chest and pushed him away from her. 'Go away,' she screamed.  'Go away and leave me in peace!'

Unsettled by this outburst, Apollo snorted nervously and backed away. Annabelle dashed a hand across her eyes.

'You had best look to your horse,' she muttered, her anger spent. 'It is  a long walk back to Oakenroyd from here and I do not want you anywhere  near me.'                       
       
           



       

She turned, blinking away the tears so that she could see to collect up  the cheese and the now-empty milk jug. The eggs were beyond redemption.  The wind whipped at her shawl and she pulled it tight about her, keeping  her eyes fixed on the ground until she heard him mount up and ride  away.

'Please, Belle, you must come! With Lizzie away on her honeymoon you are  my only friend. I shall not enjoy the assembly half as much if you are  not there.'

Annabelle found herself subjected to Celia's pleading gaze. 'I have no ticket … '

'I asked Papa to buy one for you,' said Celia. 'And if you say you have  nothing to wear I shall bring you one of my gowns. And,' concluded her  friend triumphantly, 'Papa saw Dr Bennett earlier today and he is coming  here to play chess with Mr Havenham tonight, so you see, there is  really no excuse for you not to come with me.'

'It would appear not,' said Annabelle with a reluctant smile. 'Save that I do not want to go.'

'That is nonsense, when you love dancing so much!'

She shook her head, thinking of her meeting with Lucas on the old road yesterday.

'Mr Blackstone might be there.'

'I can understand why you might not want to see him,' said Celia, who  really understood nothing, since Annabelle had told her nothing. 'But he  is not coming. He told Papa as much last night. There was a meeting of  the toll-road subscribers, you see, and Mama charged Papa particularly  with a message for Mr Blackstone.' She laughed. 'I think they would like  me to form an alliance there, but for my part I would rather not.  Although his fortune may be very handsome, the same cannot be said for  his countenance, can it? Far too craggy, and so brown, from all those  years fighting in Spain. And his manner, too, he is always very abrupt  when he speaks to one, and he looks so severe.' She reached out and took  Annabelle's hands. 'But let us not think of him. There will be so many  of your old friends who want to see you. Do say you will come, Belle.  Mama says we will collect you in the carriage, so you do not have to  enter the Red Lion on your own-I know there is a separate entrance and  stairs for the assembly rooms but still, the taproom is the haunt for  some rather rough persons and Mama knows your father will be happier if  you are escorted.'

'You leave me no option,' Annabelle capitulated. 'And since I now live  so close I can always slip away before the end if I wish to do so.'

That made Celia laugh out loud. 'You, leave a dance early, Belle? You are always the one who wants to stay to the very end!'





Chapter Eleven


Having decided to attend the assembly, Annabelle pulled out the newest  of the few evening gowns she had brought with her. It was the green  muslin she had worn to the last assembly and immediately it brought back  memories of Lucas. She resolutely pushed them aside, but when she  looked for a pair of gloves to wear the only ones suitable were the  lemon satin, and she could not bring herself to wear them again. The  past weeks at Croft Cottage had taken their toll of her hands, which  were not quite so soft and white as they had been, but that could not be  helped. It was honest toil and, since the assemblies were for everyone  in and around Stanton, many of those dancing tonight would have hands  even more chapped and rough than hers.

Annabelle had been obliged to let her maid go when they had moved to  Croft Cottage, but she was becoming quite adept at putting up her own  hair. When she regarded herself in the little mirror on her dressing  table she was quite pleased with the result and liked the way the soft  brown curls danced about her head when she moved. She might no longer be  mistress of Oakenroyd, but she was still passably pretty and hopefully  would not lack for partners tonight.

Annabelle entered the assembly rooms as part of the Rishworths' party,  prepared to remain firmly in the background, but she was greeted warmly  by those already gathered in the rooms, several people going out of  their way to enquire after her health and that of her father.

'And why should you not be so well received?' demanded Lady Rishworth,  when Annabelle remarked upon it. 'You and Mr Havenham have always been  highly respected. That has not changed, not amongst your true friends,  and you have many of those.'

Reassured, Belle linked arms with Celia and they went off to join their  young friends. As they passed Mrs Kensley, the widow stepped in their  path.

'Miss Rishworth, good evening-and Miss Havenham, how good to see you  have not allowed your reverses to stop you from enjoying yourself.'

'As you see, ma'am,' said Annabelle, coolly.

'And your friend Miss Scanlon-Mrs Keighley, I should say-is away on her  honeymoon now,' continued the widow, the smile she gave them not quite  reaching her eyes. 'And we all thought Keighley had you in mind for his  life partner, Miss Havenham.' She patted Belle's hand, saying as she  walked away, 'How sad that the loss of a fortune should mean the loss of  one's suitors, too.'                       
       
           



       

'Yes, but your husband had to die to get away from you!' muttered Celia, rigid with fury.

Annabelle shushed her, but the widow was already out of earshot.

'Odious woman, how dare she say such things to you?'

'It is no more than the truth, after all,' said Belle quietly. 'And it  is not as if I was ever enamoured of Mr Keighley, so I have lost  nothing.'

'No, and as Mama said, your true friends will not desert you.'

That certainly seemed to be the case. Many gentlemen of her acquaintance  were happy to partner her on the dance floor, as well as several of  Oakenroyd's tenants, who had previously been too diffident to ask their  landlord's daughter to stand up with them. One of these was Elias  Greenwood, whose wife was so near her confinement that she would only  watch the dancers from the benches at the side of the room.

Once Annabelle had enquired after his family, she could not resist asking Elias how work was progressing at Morwood.

'Coming on a treat, miss. T'would do your heart good to see the place.  'Tis going to be a grand house when it's finished and no mistake. I am  sorry that you cannot ride over and see it for yourself, although I am  sure Mr Blackstone would fetch you. Perhaps I could ask him for you … '

Hastily Annabelle declined the offer and was glad that the energetic dance made further conversation impossible.

The mood in the assembly was very merry. The hard work of the harvest  was over and everyone was determined to enjoy themselves. As the evening  went on and glasses of wine and punch were imbibed, the atmosphere  became even more boisterous.

'Are you glad you came, Belle?' asked Celia when they were sitting down together during a break in the dancing.

'Very much,' replied Annabelle, fanning herself.

It was true. For a while she had been able to forget the constraints of  her new life and lose herself in the dancing, but her friend's next  words brought back all her anxieties.

'Good heavens, Mr Blackstone has arrived and he has a friend with him.'  Celia sat up, her eyes shining with speculation. 'A military gentleman,  too. How handsome he looks in his regimentals.'

Through the shifting crowd Annabelle could just see Lucas's black form and, beside him, a fair-haired man in a red coat.

'He is limping slightly,' observed Celia. 'A wounded war hero, perhaps.'

'That makes him even more interesting,' agreed Annabelle, a laugh in her voice.

Her amusement fled, however, when the two gentlemen came towards them.  She made to leave, but Celia clamped her hand on her arm, forcing her to  remain in her place and muttering a command to her to smile. She tried  to comply, but with Lucas towering over her and the memory of their last  encounter still fresh in her mind, it was all she could do not to run  away.