Why yes…it wouldn’t take much, really. Charlotte had a large heart, that much was certain. All Anna needed to do was help Charlotte realize her own potential. Her own strength as a woman.

  The idea took hold and Anna’s heart eased. It was a simple plan and bound to help Greyley. If he thought he could be happy with a bread-and-butter miss, he was sadly mistaken. The relationship would pale within a fortnight. He needed someone stronger, someone who could stand on her own.

  Anna eyed the girl thoughtfully. As shy as Charlotte seemed, there had to be some spirit in her. Someone just needed to coax it out of her. Anna decided that that someone would be she.

  She took Charlotte’s hand and smiled reassuringly. “I’d love to come and visit. I daresay I’ll be riding this way several times a week. More, if I can arrange it.”

  “That would be so nice! I have only Mama and Papa for company and while they are quite pleasant, I sometimes wish for someone closer to my own age.”

  “I don’t know how close I am in age, but I’d be glad to visit. We can talk about all sorts of things, too. Books, poetry, household management. Greyley.”

  “Perhaps you can tell me more about the house. Maybe then it won’t seem so…” The girl bit her lip, sudden tears welling in her pretty blue eyes.

  Heavens, but the child was easily moved to sniffles! Stifling her impatience, Anna stood. “I suppose I should be going. It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Melton.”

  Charlotte stood, clutching her book in front of her. “Must you go already? I’ve enjoyed talking with you so much.”

  Anna caught the title of the book as the sunlight glanced off the gilt lettering. “Ah, Shakespeare’s Henry V. Do you like it?”

  “No. I don’t really understand it at all. But Mama promised Lord Greyley that she would make me read in an effort to improve my mind.” Charlotte mournfully regarded the small book. “I don’t think it’s working.”

  “That’s because you have the wrong book. The least they could have done was allowed you to read Romeo and Juliet or Midsummer Night’s Dream.” Anna frowned for a moment, then grinned. “Come! I have just the book for you.” She went to where Majesty stood outside the gate and reached into the bag that was tied behind the saddle and pulled out a nicely bound book. She always took a book with her when riding with the children to while away the time whenever they stopped to rest. “Here. It’s Byron’s Childe Harold.”

  Charlotte’s face fell. “I’m not sure my mama would approve. She said Byron is dreadfully wicked.”

  “What a pity, for the book is one of Lord Greyley’s favorites.” That was stretching things a bit, but Charlotte would never know.

  The girl looked down at the thin book, her worried expression melting into a determined one. “If it is one of Greyley’s favorites, then I shall read it regardless of what Mama thinks.”

  “Good for you,” Anna said, applauding this harmless bit of rebellion. Greyley needed a wife who had more than two thoughts in her head. He needed a wife who would meet him argument for argument, thought for thought; one who was well educated and aware of the world. And Charlotte was none of those things.

  Yet. Anna smiled to herself as she saw Charlotte reading the opening of Childe Harold, her lips moving soundlessly with each word. “Charlotte, why don’t you read the first part and we’ll discuss it the next time I come to visit.”

  “When will that be?”

  “Within the next few days,” Anna promised, her mind racing as she made a mental list of all the things Charlotte would need to know. “Perhaps next time, I will bring the children with me.”

  Charlotte took a wary step back. “Mama would not like that. Lady Putney says they are wild.”

  Anna frowned. “When did you meet Lady Putney?”

  “Oh, she comes to visit Mama all the time. They are great friends, you know.”

  Anna was developing a healthy dislike for the unknown Lady Melton. “How lovely for your mother.”

  “Did the children really catch one of their governesses on fire?” Charlotte asked, her eyes wide.

  “No, they just tarred and feathered her dog, which was a nasty creature from what accounts I’ve heard.”

  “And the frogs? Did they really let hundreds of them loose in His Lordship’s chamber?”

  “More like a dozen,” Anna said in a cheerful voice, determined to undo whatever harm Lady Putney had done. “They didn’t cause much harm, except to frighten the upstairs maid.”

  Charlotte shuddered. “Frogs are such slimy creatures. I’m certain I would have screamed, had I found one in my room.”

  Anna settled her hat more firmly on her head. Damn Lady Putney. “I hope you enjoy Childe Harold.”

  “I’m sure I will. Should I ask one of the footmen to take you home? You don’t want to get lost again.”

  “I don’t think it will be necessary. Now that I can see the woods from this angle, I can see the path quite clearly.” She smiled at Charlotte. “I look forward to visiting you soon.”

  “Don’t wait too long,” Charlotte said with a shy smile. “All of my friends are in London, having their season.” Her face darkened momentarily. “I’d be having my season, too, but Grandmother died and we are not yet out of mourning. I do so like London.”

  “I’m sure you will go often enough with Greyley once you marry.”

  Charlotte’s lip quivered a moment before she gave a mournful shake of her head. “The earl isn’t fond of London, so I daresay I’ll be staying here most of the time.”

  “But Charlotte, if you like London, you should tell Greyley. You deserve some happiness, too.”

  “I’m sure I will not miss it much. Mama thinks it would have pulled horribly on my nerves to stay more than a week, though I do not think so. I never felt more alive than when I was there before.”

  Try as she might, Anna simply could not picture Greyley with this child. What was wrong with the man? He must have been swayed by Charlotte’s blue eyes, golden ringlets, and sweet, biddable nature; the child really was the exact opposite of the hardened, scheming Elliots. Unfortunately, Greyley’s troublesome family would eat a tender morsel like Charlotte alive and spit her bones into the sand without a single thought.

  Well, that wouldn’t happen if Anna had anything to say about it. She’d teach Charlotte all she needed to know to be a good countess, and Charlotte, in return, would be the perfect wife for Anthony.

  A dull pressure grew somewhere in the region of Anna’s heart, forcing an ache to her throat. She pressed a hand to her chest, but it did not go away. Instead it grew until Anna finally cleared her throat. “I must be going. I had best take a hot bath before I stiffen from riding so far.”

  “But how will you get on your horse? There’s no mounting block.”

  “I don’t need one,” Anna said briskly. “I can use this bench.”

  “Aren’t you afraid you’ll fall?”

  “Oh no! I was the most dreadful hoyden when I was a child, and I was forever sneaking off on the horses. I quite detested the sidesaddle, too, and refused to use one unless forced.”

  “I don’t think you should—” Charlotte broke off as Anna led Majesty inside the gate. Charlotte scrambled back several paces while Anna placed a foot on the bench and stood, then mounted without trouble.

  Anna arranged her skirts, then grinned down at Charlotte. “Good-bye. I shall return soon.”

  Charlotte nodded and then watched as Anna eased Majesty through the gate. The wind lifted the long white feather that fluttered from Anna’s hat and for an instant, Charlotte thought her new friend appeared exactly like a warrior goddess. Certainly she had the bright coloring and the bold nose of one.

  The image was almost destroyed when the restive horse shied at a shrub. But after a tense moment in which it appeared that Anna was addressing some strong words to the air about her, she managed to settle the horse back into a trot. Soon, horse and rider crossed the field that bordered Greyley lands.

  Before Miss Thraxt
on had appeared on her horizon, Charlotte had been wandering the gardens in a state of unrest. When she’d first agreed to the wedding, it had seemed far, far away. Mama had assured her that her timidity would disappear as the time approached. Swept away by the excitement of the earl’s professed affection and the magnificence of his person, Charlotte had readily agreed to the match. He was wealthy, her father thought very highly of him, and she liked the thought of being a countess.

  But as the months progressed, she felt less and less at ease with the earl. And now…Charlotte hugged the book to her breast and watched as Anna jumped Majesty over the small stream, horse and rider moving as one. There was something regal about Anna Thraxton. Charlotte imagined herself nine inches taller and with long, flowing red hair.

  The picture kept her agreeably entertained until Mama’s sharp voice drifted from the terrace. Startled, Charlotte tucked the book into her skirt pocket and pressed her lips into a straight line. She would learn to become a good countess. Fortune had already smiled on her by providing such a ready tutor.

  Feeling more hopeful than she had in months, Charlotte hurried up the path toward her mother’s voice.

  Chapter 22

  Women should learn to leave men alone. We can stumble along just fine without you, providing, of course, you leave a well-marked map.

  Lord Burton to Lady Burton, while attending a lecture on reform

  “Miss Thraxton, look!” Elizabeth twirled before Anna, her gown of blue satin spinning about her legs. A wreath sat on her hair, blue and white ribbons streaming across her curls. “Mrs. Stibbons put new lace in the insets.”

  “How lovely,” Anna said, smiling. They were working on the costumes for the play. Mrs. Stibbons was so excited about the production that Anna decided that the housekeeper hid a secret aspiration to be an actress.

  Not that the children were any less excited. Assisted by Grandpapa, Desford and Elizabeth had written most of the scenes, which offered a very colorful and highly fictitious rendition of the first Earl of Greyley and his exploits in securing the family lands. Desford seemed to enjoy writing, for he’d asked permission to add a few additional scenes to trace the family through the ages. Anna was amazed at how enthusiastic he seemed. The other children gathered props, painted scenery, and squabbled with great vigor over the various parts.

  All told, the production should be a huge success. It was to be her crowning achievement and a clear sign that perhaps it was time for her to move on. Desford hadn’t played a trick in weeks, and while he still had his moments, he was slowly coming around. Soon the children would be ready for a new governess. Perhaps Lily, who enjoyed the children as much as they enjoyed her.

  The children chattered excitedly about the play, but Anna’s thoughts drifted to her meetings with Charlotte. Since last week, Anna had composed a list of all the books suitable for bringing a young lady’s intellectual quota up to standard. She particularly looked forward to sharing Mary Wollstonecraft’s A Vindication of the Rights of Women.

  Anna imagined Charlotte discussing such a topic with Greyley and she had to hide a smile. He was going to be astounded to see the changes in his gentle bride.

  Of course, even with an eager pupil, it would take months before anyone would see any lasting changes, especially in someone with such a naturally timid nature. Still, Charlotte had promise. Every day she seemed to grow before Anna’s eyes.

  “My lady?” Jenkins stood in the doorway of the nursery.

  “Yes?”

  “Lord Greyley would like to see you in the library.”

  Selena looked up from a pile of purple ribbons and pulled her finger out of her mouth. “Lord Greyley wants to see Miss Thraxton all of the time.”

  Though his lips never moved an inch, Anna had the feeling the butler smiled. “Indeed,” he said pleasantly.

  Anna sniffed. “Please inform Lord Greyley that I’m not available at the present time.” She was due at Charlotte’s house at ten.

  “His Lordship seemed most insistent.”

  “I daresay he was also most rude.”

  Jenkins’s mouth twitched. “He was a bit…commanding.”

  “However much I wish to answer such a delightful summons, I cannot.” She had better things to do than pander to His Lordship’s overinflated sense of grandeur. Besides, she had no wish to be alone with Greyley, especially not in a room with a lockable door. Her feelings still threatened to bubble up and scorch her every time she thought about him.

  The butler bowed, then left. His footsteps had barely receded when Anna heard Grandpapa limping down the hallway, his cane thumping along with each step. He entered the room and smiled brightly at the children, who immediately clamored to show him their costumes. Even Desford, who looked dashing in a hat festooned with a large feather, managed a glimmer of a smile.

  After admiring the children’s costumes, Grandpapa took the seat beside Anna. His glance lingered on her clothing. “Going riding yet again?”

  Since she was to leave shortly, she’d already donned her habit. “Yes. I’m meeting Mr. Elliot at ten. He’s escorting me.”

  “Hm.”

  Something about that “hm” didn’t sit well with Anna. She sent a black look at Grandpapa, which did no good at all, for he merely returned her look with a bland one of his own.

  “Well?” she asked.

  “Well what?” He picked up two spare feathers from a pile on the table and sat twiddling with them.

  “You have something to say, so you might as well go ahead and say it.”

  “Oh, I don’t have anything to say.” He took the tip of the feather and leaned over the table so that he could tickle one of Marian’s ears. “Nothing of interest, anyway.”

  “Out with it. You’ll burst your spleen if you keep it all inside.”

  He smiled at Marian, who giggled and slapped at his feather. “No, no. I couldn’t possibly intrude on your life in such a manner.”

  Anna snorted.

  Grandpapa sent her a shrewd look. “You tense up like a statue every time I mention Greyley’s name. Makes me a bit shy to bring up the topic.”

  “That’s because I find the man impossibly overbearing.”

  “Oh? And what about this Rupert Elliot? He seems to be hanging about quite a bit this last week.”

  “I find him charming.” And necessary. It was only a matter of time before Greyley suggested that he accompany her on one of her morning jaunts, something she could not allow to happen. To avoid that possible event, she’d invited Rupert to join her. She was certain she could win his silence, for she had the impression that he was more than willing to thwart Greyley.

  Anna took the feathers from Grandpapa and laid them back on the table. “Rupert has been nothing but a gentleman.”

  “Just remember who his mother is. I don’t trust that harpy and neither should you.”

  “I don’t trust anyone at Greyley House.”

  “Not even the earl?”

  “Especially not the earl.”

  Grandpapa’s gaze sharpened. “Did something happen?”

  “Of course not,” Anna said stiffly. Unwilling to pursue the conversation further, she turned away and scolded Selena, who was using one of the feather quills to poke Richard in the behind every time he bent over to tie his shoes.

  Sir Phineas wisely let the topic drop, though he watched the play of emotions on his granddaughter’s face with interest. He picked up the feathers once again, then waited until Marian looked elsewhere before he tickled her ear with the feather.

  While she giggled, he said to Anna, “You know, my dear, I’ve been watching. I know more than you think.”

  Her cheeks flared. “Good God, I hope not,” she muttered.

  “What’s that?”

  “Nothing,” she said hastily, taking the feather from his hand and replacing it on the table. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m off for my morning ride.”

  Sir Phineas waved her on. “Have a lovely time, dear. I think I’ll stay here with th
e children.”

  She bade the children to mind Lily before sweeping out the door. As soon as she was gone, Sir Phineas reached over and pulled Selena into his lap. She nestled there, snuggling against him contentedly, chattering about her part in the upcoming play.

  Sir Phineas listened with half an ear, nodding when necessary and smiling at Selena’s animated expression. It appeared as if Anna and her earl were not yet out of the woods.

  It was a pity his granddaughter was born with such a stubborn disposition. He was wondering from which of his wife’s many relatives Anna could have inherited that unfortunate tendency when a crumpled bit of paper on the floor caught his eye. Shifting Selena to one leg, he used his cane to pull the paper closer, then bent and retrieved it.

  Silently he perused the sheet. It was much crossed through and overwritten so it took him a moment to realize what he was reading. When he did, a slow smile tugged at his mouth.

  “What is it?” Selena asked, staring at the letters with an uncomprehending gaze.

  “A part of your play, but somehow I don’t remember this scene.”

  Selena took the paper, beaming. “This must be the secret scene.”

  “The what?”

  She glanced at the other children, but they were all busy with their costumes and no one seemed to have heard a thing. She leaned closer. “We have a secret scene, but Desford says we mustn’t tell or it won’t be secret.”

  “I see,” Sir Phineas said. He leaned forward and whispered into her ear. “If it’s a secret, then you need not say another word.”

  She nodded wisely, then folded the paper in half and stuffed it into the pocket of her dress. It didn’t fit, but her attention was already on the feather that lay on the table and the page soon fluttered back to the floor.

  Sir Phineas glanced across the room at Desford, who was pretending to sword fight with Richard. Well, well, well. Perhaps I’m not alone in this thing, after all.

  Feeling better than he had in days, Sir Phineas stayed in the nursery and played with the children until lunch.