Hope - Lesley Pearse [156]
But then, just when she thought she would never see him again, she ran into him.
It was less than a month ago, three days before Christmas.
She had gone into Bath to get some presents. Milsom Street was crowded with shoppers, a barrel-organ was playing gaily, the shop windows all looked so bright and festive, and the roast chestnut-sellers were loudly exhorting the crowds to buy their wares. The festive sight cheered her greatly and she reminded herself that Rufus was due home the following day, and only the previous night William had admitted he’d been behaving abominably, and vowed he was going to change.
She wasn’t very optimistic about the latter. It wasn’t the first time he’d made such promises, only to break them a few days later, but this time he had buried his head in her lap and sobbed his heart out. He said that drinking was his way of shutting out the anxiety about losing his fortune. He added that he’d let her and Rufus down very badly, that the house was falling into disrepair, and it was all too much for him.
Anne felt she had to try to believe in him again. She’d made the suggestion that in the New Year, he should go to his advisers and check exactly howmuch money they had left; then they could make plans to deal with it, however bad it was.
For now, all she wanted was for them to have a happy Christmas and drawcloser to one another.
She had just bought William a blue silk cravat, and was making her way down the street to buy Rufus some new paints when she saw Angus striding towards her. It was such a shock that she almost stumbled.
He was in his uniform, his blue coat with its gold braid and cherry-red breeches making him look taller and even more handsome than she remembered. He didn’t appear to be equally shocked to see her, for his expression didn’t change.
‘Good morning, Lady Harvey,’ he said, making a formal little bow. ‘I trust you are well?’
She pulled herself together, feeling very glad she’d worn her blue sable-trimmed cape and the matching bonnet, for although it was out of fashion, she knew it flattered her. But she was flustered, for although it was six years since she’d written to him in the aftermath of her father’s funeral, it was eight years since they’d last met face to face, and she knew those years showed on her face.
‘I’m very well, thank you,’ she managed to stammer out, noting that he had a sprinkling of grey hair at his temples and that he’d shaved off his moustache. ‘Are you home on leave?’
She remembered he’d made some kind of sardonic remark about there being no good wars just now, and that soldiers were becoming fat and lazy. She asked if he was staying with his relatives in Chelwood.
‘No, I have had a house of my own for some years,’ he said rather curtly.
‘I am sorry that my last letter was so cold and final,’ she blurted out. ‘I had been having such a difficult time with William, and what with Mother dying, and then Father so soon after, and Rufus going off to school, I was quite beside myself.’
‘I assume that is also your excuse for treating Nell so shabbily too?’ he said.
‘Nell?’ she repeated, dumbfounded not only by his accusation but that he’d even come to hear of her maid leaving Briargate. ‘I don’t know how you came to hear that – Nell left of her own accord!’
‘Damn it, Anne, you left her no choice but to go.’ He raised his voice in his anger, dropping his earlier formal greeting. ‘How could she stay with that blackguard of a husband? I hear he’s still with you too!’
Anne looked around her nervously, afraid someone she knew might see them. She wanted to ask if they could talk somewhere where they would be less conspicuous, but she didn’t know how to. ‘I would have dismissed Albert, but William wouldn’t have it,’ she managed to say. ‘It was Christmas too,’ she ended lamely.
Angus raised one eyebrow. ‘And as a good Christian you