Fanny cleared her throat. “Will the earl be following us, do you think?”
“No.”
Silence.
Anna glanced at the maid. Her brow was puckered.
“I thought you might be marrying the earl soon?” The girl phrased the statement as a question.
“No.”
Fanny’s mouth trembled.
Anna said more softly, “It’s hardly likely, is it? An earl and me?”
“It is if he loves you,” the little maid said earnestly. “And Lord Swartingham does. Love you, I mean. Everyone says so.”
“Oh, Fanny.” She turned her eyes to the window as they blurred.
“Well, it is possible,” the girl insisted. “And you love the earl, so I don’t see why we’re going back to Little Battleford.”
“It’s more complicated than that. I-I would be a liability to him.”
“A what?” Fanny’s mouth scrunched up.
“A liability. A millstone about his neck. I can’t marry him.”
“I don’t know why—” Fanny broke off as the carriage clattered into an inn yard.
Anna seized gratefully on the interruption. “Let’s get out here and stretch our legs.”
Moving past the still-sleeping third passenger, they jumped down from the coach. In the yard, ostlers ran back and forth, tending the team of horses, unloading packages from on top of the coach, and bringing more out to replace them. The driver leaned down from his perch, shouting gossip to the innkeeper. To add to the noise and confusion, a private carriage was also stopped at the inn. Several men were bent over the right near horse, examining its hoof. The animal appeared to have either thrown a shoe or come up lame.
Anna took Fanny’s elbow and moved them both beneath the inn’s eaves so as not to be in the way of running men and boys. Fanny stood on one foot and then the other and finally blurted, “Excuse me, mum. I have to use the necessary.”
Anna nodded and the little maid scurried off. She idly watched the men tending to the lame horse.
“When exactly will the carriage be ready?” a strident voice exclaimed. “I’ve been waiting an hour already in this filthy inn.”
Anna stiffened at the familiar tones. Oh, God, not Felicity Clearwater. Not now. She shrank back against the inn wall, but fate wasn’t pulling its punches today. Felicity walked out of the inn and immediately saw her.
“Anna Wren.” The other woman’s mouth pinched until unbecoming lines radiated from her lips. “Finally.”
Felicity marched up and seized her arm in a commanding grip. “I can’t believe I’ve had to travel almost all the way to London just to talk to you. And I had to cool my heels at this wretched inn. Now listen carefully.” Felicity shook her arm for emphasis. “I don’t want to repeat myself. I know all about your little entanglement at Aphrodite’s Grotto.”
Anna felt her eyes widen. “I—”
“No.” Felicity cut her off. “Don’t try to deny it. I’ve a witness. And I know you met the Earl of Swartingham there. Aiming a bit high, weren’t you? I never would’ve guessed it of a timid little mouse like you.”
For a moment, the other woman almost looked curious, but she recovered and continued before Anna could get her mouth to work.
“That’s neither here nor there. This is the important part.” She shook Anna’s arm again, this time more roughly. “I want my locket and the letter in it back, and if you ever breathe a word about Peter and me, I’ll make sure every single soul in Little Battleford hears about your indiscretion. You and your mother-in-law will be driven out of town. I’ll see to it personally.”
Anna’s eyes widened. How dare…?
“I hope”—she gave a final nasty shake—“I’ve made myself clear.” Felicity nodded as if she’d finished with some small, domestic business. Dismissing an impertinent maid, perhaps. Unpleasant, but necessary. Now on to more important matters. She turned to walk off.
Anna stared.
Felicity truly thought she was a timid little mouse, one who would crumple in a heap of fear at threats by her late husband’s lover. And wasn’t she? She was running from the man she loved. The man who cared for her and wanted to marry her. Running because of a filthy blackmail note. Anna felt ashamed. No wonder Felicity thought she could tread all over her!
Anna whipped out a hand and caught the other woman by the shoulder. Felicity almost went over in the inn yard muck.
“What—?”
“Oh, you have made yourself clear,” Anna purred as she backed the taller woman into the wall. “But you’ve made one slight miscalculation: that I’d give two farthings for your threats. You see, if I don’t care what you say about me, well then you have nothing to hold over me, now, do you, Mrs. Clearwater?”
“But, you—”
Anna nodded as if Felicity had said something profound. “That’s right. But I, on the other hand, have something quite substantial about you. The fact that you tupped my husband.”
“I-I—”
“And if memory serves me right”—Anna touched a finger to her cheek in mock amazement—“why it was just about the time your younger daughter was conceived. The one with red hair like Peter’s.”
Felicity slumped against the wall and looked at her as if she’d grown a third eye right in the middle of her forehead.
“Now what do you think the squire would say about that?” Anna asked sweetly.
The other woman tried a recovery. “Now see here—”
Anna stabbed a finger in her face. “No. You see here. If you ever try to threaten me or anyone I love again, I’ll tell all the inhabitants of Little Battleford that you were bedding my husband. I’ll have leaflets printed up and delivered to every house, cottage, and hovel in Essex. In fact, I’ll tell the whole country. You may very well have to leave England.”