Page 25 of Anastasia and the Duke
"You fool," Hannah whispered to herself, as the carriage turned onto the familiar, sedate square. She had entered into an agreement with Sidney, thinking that she could end it at any time, but that was not the case. If she tried to renege on their deal--or cry coward, or even feign failure--Sidney would punish her.
She should have fled when she'd had the chance. She should have taken a risk on an honest life and not allowed herself to be swayed by talk of gold and jewels.
It was too late now to back out, she thought, as the carriage drew to a halt. Not only for her, but for Nan too...
"Miss Blackmore?"
Hannah started as she realised that Philip was waiting for her to accept his hand to disembark. She took it and gave a grateful sigh as her feet touched the ground.
"I must inform the countess of what happened," Philip murmured, more to himself than to Hannah.
"No," her reply was firm, "You cannot, it will...worry her."
And it might raise questions if word was to get back to Hawkfield.
"Tell her I have taken a chill," Hannah begged Philip, turning her eyes to Jacobs to let him know that he too was included in her plea for silence, "You know how frail she is; if you tell her that I was so violently accosted, it might wreak havoc on her constitution. I will recover quickly, it was just a shock, that's all. I beg you, tell her I have merely taken poorly."
There was a silence, as Jacobs and Philip shared a glance which Hannah could not translate.
"Miss Blackmore," Philip finally said, his voice thick with emotion, "What a kind-hearted soul you are. Truly, to think of someone else's wellbeing when you yourself are suffering. Why, if I were a Catholic, I'd write to Rome to have you canonised."
"If you were a Catholic, you wouldn't have a job here," Jacobs interjected, with an amused chuckle.
Hannah did not listen as a squabble broke out between the two men, for Philip's innocent admiration of her had left her with a sense of shame so deep that it almost had her doubled over in pain. What a mess she had made of it all, she thought, as she gripped the railings in a bid to stay upright.
"Look what you've done, you silly Papist," Jacobs grunted, as he noted Hannah's frail state, "Poor Miss Blackmore's almost collapsed on the floor. Take her inside, man."
This time, Hannah did not argue when Philip hoisted her up into his arms. She allowed him to carry her inside, where Mrs Collins, the housekeeper, directed she be set down upon the chaise in the morning room.
"Warm yourself by the fire," she instructed Hannah, "While I get one of the chamber maids to set a fire in your rooms and take up a warming-pan for the bed. Oh, you poor child. I'll brew you up a hearty nostrum once I've set things in order."
"You might want to feed the nostrum to the plants," Philip whispered, with a wink, as Mrs Collins bustled from the room.
Hannah smiled faintly in return, ashamed by her sudden weakness. No wonder she had never bothered with her conscience before, she thought mulishly, when it left one feeling perfectly wretched.
By the time Mrs Collins returned with the nostrum--a noxious brew which reeked of cloves and aniseed--Hannah had recovered somewhat and was sitting upright.
"Thank you," she said, as she accepted the cup of steaming liquid.
"You're most welcome, my dear," Mrs Collins beamed, "Now, drink up, we can't have you poorly when her ladyship returns. She'll be beside herself with worry."
Hannah closed her eyes; anything she did seemed to cause someone worry and upset.
"Oh," Mrs Collins added, before she left, "The flowers in the vase by the window arrived for you this morning. Someone thinks highly of you."
Hannah waited a moment after the door had closed, before she sprang to her feet to investigate. The bouquet of flowers was displayed in a crystal vase, a splendid selection of hot-house blooms interspersed with sprigs of gypsophila.
Gingerly, Hannah lifted the card which accompanied them, and unfolded it to see just who it was who had sent them.
I beg your forgiveness for my clumsy words, I did not intend to insult you, and am filled with remorse.
Hawkfield
The arrogant slash of the "H" in his signature, led Hannah to believe that the duke had signed the missive himself, which for some reason, Hannah found more touching than the bouquet itself.
Yet, as with Philip just moments ago, Hannah was filled with shame for her deceit of him. She had feigned insult last night with the duke as a ruse to push him away, and the silly man had fallen for her indignation instead of taking insult himself.
He had been correct to question her motivations, Hannah thought, as she crumpled the card up into a ball and tossed it in the fire, for they were ill-intentioned.
