Page 51 of If The Fates Allow
She’d lifted her chin, a little perturbed at him for insinuating that she couldn’t pull off a ruse. “I can behave.”
With a rough squeeze on her bottom and a final kiss that left her weak in the knees, Noah shook his head. “I can’t.”
When they parted, he planned to write to Dr. Parsons in Ohio and to his parents, but he didn’t want to tell his brother yet. “I love Beau, but he’s never been able to lie a single day in his life. I’ll leave him a note, and he can be our eyes and ears here once we’re gone.”
Their plan for departure was to take place on the third night, directly at midnight. He would signal by lantern again, and they would ride off on Hope and enter a new life.
It would work. Willa had to believe it would work and trusted Noah completely. However, as it turned out, while Noah had thought his presence would cause suspicion, his absence did the same.
Alone in the library the next day, she didn’t notice Bonnie staring from the doorway at first. “And where is Dr. Anderson this afternoon?”
Head down and eyes on the book she was reading, Willa replied evenly, “I’m not sure.”
She sat curled on the couch, having chosen the library rather than her usual lounger in the conservatory for two reasons. The first being that she thought she might hide her small suitcase in the conservatory and didn’t want to draw attention to the spot.
The second was that the library’s couch had more cushioning than the one in the conservatory, and when she had awakened with an ache leftover from her night with Noah, Willa had taken great care not to alert anyone to her tender state.
She couldn’t very well walk around wincing all day.
“It’s Tuesday.” Bonnie stepped into the room, a furry army of cats accompanying her. The beasts spread throughout the room as they slinked in, taking up space on various pieces of furniture. “He always comes on Tuesdays.”
Lucy passed the door, humming a jaunty Christmas tune. “It is the holiday season,” Willa said, closing her book. “Perhaps he’s busy with family affairs.”
Hearing her speak, Lucy spun into the room. “Willa, you have a note!”
It was probably another letter from Mr. Richards. He wrote three times a day, and while Willa never bothered to read them since Lucy had completely taken over corresponding with him, she held out a hand for the envelope. “Mr. Richards?”
Lucy shook her head. “It’s from Dr. Anderson.”
Heat crept up her neck, a flush she couldn’t stop as she stood from the couch to take the letter. She missed him to a degree she hadn’t thought possible.
“Let me have it.” Bonnie snatched the note before Willa’s fingers could connect with the paper. “What does the dear doctor have to say that he cannot say in person?”
Bile shot into Willa’s throat. “I beg your pardon, but that letter is addressed to me.”
Ignoring her, Bonnie read the entire thing in seconds. “It appears he has a cold.” Her dark gaze lifted to connect with Willa’s. “As a doctor, one would think he would know that traipsing around in the woods so late at night can cause these types of ailments.”
Beneath Willa’s feet, it felt as if the floor had crumbled away, leaving nothing but the fiery pits of hell to lick at her heels. “What do you mean?”
Bonnie stuffed the letter into the pocket of her apron. “Lucy, leave us.”
Too wrapped up in reading another letter, her sister giggled at whatever was on the page and left without so much as a backward glance.
A tightness squeezed Willa’s chest, and she attempted to remain calm. One word from Bonnie to her father, and she would need all her faculties to deal with his wrath.
“Your sister is growing close with John Richards.” Bonnie went to the library door and closed it with a soft click. “I’m assuming you’ve noticed?”
Sinking slowly, Willa sat perched on the edge of the couch. “I have.”
“And you are not bothered by this?”
“I’m supposed to marry him,” Willa began. “Wanting my sister to get along wi—”
Bonnie cut her off with a cluck of the tongue. “I know about Paul and that Katie girl.”
Staff gossiped—it was the way of things—but Bonnie knowing Paul Anderson’s secret was a bit of a surprise. Most of the staff at Haven House never regarded her as one of them.
“News from the Anderson’s household?”
