Chapter 2

J ames had brought only one sister back to London with him after his quick visit home, as his youngest sister, Rebecca, had broken her ankle. The sister in London, Susan, was currently at the home of the elderly Lady Walmsley, who had offered to play hostess to both sisters while they were in Town.

James rapped on the door of Lady Walmsley’s townhouse and then checked his pocket watch. Susan had sent him a note earlier in the day inviting him to dine with her at seven o’clock, stating she had news to share. What sort of news she could possibly be sharing, he had no idea, but then, such often seemed to be the case with sisters.

Lady Walmsley’s elderly butler answered the door. “Good evening, Mr. Jennings,” the man, Foster, said with a bow. “And welcome. Please, follow me.”

Foster led James to the parlor.

“James!” Susan exclaimed. “I’m so glad you are here.” She crossed the room and took both of his hands in hers, and he kissed her on the cheek.

That was when he realized that the two of them were not alone. Aylesham— Aylesham? —was standing in a corner of the room, watching him intently.

“I find I am not your only supper guest,” James said.

“This is true,” Susan said. “We are celebrating this evening.”

“Celebrating,” James repeated.

“Yes,” Susan said. “Celebrating the fact that I am betrothed to the Duke of Aylesham.”

“You are what ?” James asked, his voice crescendoing on his last word. Certainly, he couldn’t have heard her correctly.

“Betrothed to the Duke of Aylesham,” Susan said.

“What have you done, Aylesham?” he asked. “You didn’t even know my sister before this week. We were in France. It’s incomprehensible! What are you up to?”

Susan patted James’s arm. “James,” she said, “is it impossible to believe that we discovered an affection for each other?”

“Quite frankly, yes , Susan, to put it bluntly,” he said. He crossed the room and stared directly into Aylesham’s eyes. “I don’t know what is going on,” he said, “but by thunder , I am going to find out. You’re my friend , Aylesham, or at least I believed you to be. I will not have you abuse that friendship or take advantage of my sister.”

“I’m not sure what should offend me more,” Aylesham drawled, “that you believe I would dishonor our friendship in such a manner as you suggest, or that your low opinion of your sister’s overall appeal should make me call you out in defense of her.” He brushed past James to Susan, took her hand in his, and kissed it.

“You see, James?” Susan said. “You must simply accept that the Duke of Aylesham—George—and I have come to an understanding. Perhaps it seems sudden, but we are both adults who know our own minds. We wish to marry, and quickly too.”

“How quickly?” James asked with a sense of foreboding.

“A week Monday,” Aylesham replied.

“ What ?” James exclaimed. He began pacing the room, unable to stay in one place, trying to keep his agitation in check. “ A week Monday ? I can scarce believe what I am hearing! How are our parents and our brothers and sisters to attend on such short notice, Susan? And where will these supposed nuptials take place?”

“St. George’s Hanover Square,” the duke responded. “And there is nothing ‘supposed’ about it. As to your family, it is my understanding that your youngest sister is currently infirm, and a sister-in-law gave birth not long ago. Susan and I are in agreement that we marry now rather than later. I do not wish to go through the Season without my bride at my side, you see, nor do I wish to impose upon your family. We shall have a small ceremony, as I have no immediate family, and then we shall journey to Lincolnshire later in the Season to celebrate with one and all.”

James heard Aylesham say the words, but all he could think about was the untimeliness of this sudden, suspicious betrothal. “Marry now and hold a family celebration in Lincoln-shire later in the Season, you say?”

“Precisely,” the duke said.

“You are in full accord with this?” James asked Susan.

His sister merely smiled. “I am. And it is my hope that you will stand in for Papa and give me away, James. I am not so girlish that I need such sentimental touches, but having you there in his place would be a comfort.”

“Of course, dear sister.” He opened his arms to her, and Susan stepped into them, and he wrapped his arms tightly about her. “I only want your happiness,” he whispered in her ear, then added as he and Susan ended their embrace, “I am still suspicious. But as I love my sister and, more than that, I trust her intellect and her reason, I am suspending my suspicions for the time being to support her decision in this.”

“Very generous of you,” Aylesham said.

“Yes, it is,” James retorted.

“Well, that’s settled, then,” Susan said. “There is much to do between now and Monday week. Now, if you both don’t mind, I shall inform Lady Walmsley we are ready to dine. I myself am famished, I understand the illustrious Duke of Aylesham is in need of increased sustenance, and my brother is always hungry.”

James pondered this unexpected wedding of his sister to his friend while they dined, and he somehow managed to avoid saying anything too discourteous for the remainder of the evening, for his sister’s sake, if for no other reason. He respected Aylesham, even trusted his life to the duke, and vice versa, but this all seemed rushed, in James’s opinion.

He couldn’t imagine doing something that seemed so impulsive in nature himself.

Anna, Sparks, and Mary arrived in London following a long coach ride from Clifton Cross after bidding farewell to Hastings and the others.

Hastings had tucked a rather large sum of money into her hands. “Keep this safe,” he’d said. “We don’t want brigands to see you as someone of wealth they can rob. I have informed Sparks to stay particularly vigilant, although the coach and men I hired are of good reputation. I simply wish for you to err on the side of caution.” He had given her a concerned look.

“I will, I promise. Thank you, Hastings,” she’d said.

And then they had entered the coach and waved farewell to the staff, who had all congregated outside.

Conversation between Anna and Sparks and Mary had been polite and a bit awkward at the beginning, but gradually, they had adjusted to being comfortable together in such a closed space for such long stretches.

Anna had learned more about Sparks’s upbringing in Bristol, and Mary had shared anecdotes from her own childhood near Bath.

“I shall tell you what it was like growing up with two older brothers and no sisters,” Anna said.

“I remember both as lads, me lady,” Sparks said with a smile. “Lively and full of mischief. About the time I began working for yer father, it was.”

“Yes,” Anna replied. “I’m afraid I was no match for either of them when it came to climbing trees and such. But I learned to hold my own with them.”

“That ye did,” Sparks said with a nod.

“I only had sisters,” Mary said. “It was marry or go into service—or both. But I weren’t inclined to marry just to see to me welfare. Ye know what I mean, don’t ye, me lady? Ye can’t tell if a man is going to be caring to a wife or a harsh taskmaster.”

Mary’s remarks made Anna think of Ambrose. “One must certainly be careful,” Anna said.

Sparks had been exceedingly helpful in seeing to their luggage and transport during their travels. They had stayed the first night in a coaching inn near Swindon and the second night in Reading, and had arrived in London early evening the third day.

It had been a long while since Anna had spent so much time in a coach, and she had been stiff and sore when Sparks had assisted her and Mary from the vehicle at the end of that final day. Thankfully, even though the Season had begun, she was relieved to find that the inn where they had stopped had a room available for her and lodging for Mary and Sparks in the servants’ quarters.

Anna had slept better that night than she’d done since Papa had died, and first thing in the morning, she had sent a note to Lady Bledsoe, asking if she could call on her. Mary had arrived soon after with a plate of breakfast foods and hot chocolate and then had assisted Anna in washing and dressing.

They’d barely put the finishing touches on Anna’s coiffure when there was a knock at the door.

“A letter for Lady Anna Clifton arrived just now,” the maid at the door said to Mary when she opened the door.

“Thank ye,” Mary said and then took the letter to Anna, who quickly opened it and read.

My dear Anna,

I was delighted to receive your note and to learn that you are in Town. Of course you may call! I am sure there is much catching up we must do since you last stayed with Lord Bledsoe and me. I shall plan on you for a light luncheon at one, if that suits.

With love, Lady Bledsoe

Anna breathed a sigh of relief. She knew of no one else to whom to turn, and had Lady Bledsoe been out of town or indisposed somehow, which hadn’t dawned on Anna until they had neared London, she wouldn’t have known what to do next.

She arrived at the Bledsoe home at precisely one o’clock and was shown to the parlor, where she immediately found herself enveloped in Lady Bledsoe’s arms and in the kind lady’s familiar scent of sandalwood.

“Oh, my dear!” Lady Bledsoe said, moving Anna back from her so she could study Anna’s face. “I see you are wearing mourning attire.”

Anna immediately broke into tears at Lady Bledsoe’s welcome. It was such a relief to have someone with whom she could share the burdens she’d been carrying. She fumbled for her handkerchief but was unsuccessful. “Papa is dead,” she said at last, tears streaming down her face. “So is John. And the solicitor says we cannot keep my horrible cousin Ambrose from inheriting the title and properties while Avery is listed as wounded and missing.”

She watched Lady Bledsoe frown and shake her head. “I scarcely know where to begin,” Lady Bledsoe said. “Your father and your oldest brother both dead? And what is this about Avery? You must sit and start from the beginning. But before you do, with your permission, I believe I shall ask Bledsoe to join us.”

Anna nodded her consent and then gratefully sat in the settee next to the fireplace while Lady Bledsoe rang for the butler and requested the presence of Lord Bledsoe.

“Ah, Lady Anna, such an unexpected surprise!” Lord Bledsoe said when he joined them in the parlor. He took her hand in his and placed a welcoming kiss upon it. Anna could see that his eyes were studying her closely. “What brings you to London?”

“She comes to us in a time of need, Bledsoe,” Lady Bledsoe said. “Both her father and her eldest brother have passed away, and there appears to be a question as to whether her other brother lives or not.”

“I am sorely grieved to hear of your losses, my dear. Sorely grieved,” Lord Bledsoe said, shaking his head solemnly. “And what is this about the one in the military?” he asked. “Avery, wasn’t it?”

“Avery, yes.” Anna managed to retrieve her handkerchief from her reticule and dabbed away at her tears. “We got word that he was wounded in Orthez, France, and was missing. It was too much for Papa to take—” She wept even more.

Lady Bledsoe moved to sit next to her and placed her arm around Anna’s shoulders. “Oh, my dear!”

“And the lawyer says we must presume he is dead and that Cousin Ambrose now holds the title and entail on the property. But I cannot simply let him ...” Anna couldn’t finish the sentence. It was too painful.

“What can we do, Bledsoe?” Lady Bledsoe asked.

“I can and shall make inquiries on your behalf tomorrow,” Lord Bledsoe said with a firm nod of his head.

“I suggest that after luncheon, you return to your lodgings and rest,” Lady Bledsoe said. “I can see how fatigued you are, my dear. And we shall all pray for good news on the morrow.”

“Thank you both so much!” Anna exclaimed. She knew Lord Bledsoe would know individuals who would have military information and, more than that, would have access to these individuals that Anna would not.

She would pray even more earnestly than she had before, if such a thing were possible.

The following afternoon, Anna was invited to return to the Bledsoes’ townhouse for tea. Anna was all pins and needles, wondering if they had already gotten further information about Avery or his regiment. It was odd to feel both fearful and hopeful at the same time.

“Lord Bledsoe is currently at Whitehall. He left early this morning,” Lady Bledsoe said after pouring tea for Anna. “Quite early, in fact—said he wished to have whatever time the day allowed him to speak to as many people as possible on your behalf. He was greatly moved by your story, my dear, and vowed to see what he could learn.”

Anna’s eyes welled with tears. “Oh, Lady Bledsoe! I cannot thank you both enough for your kindness to me!” She truly was moved that Lord Bledsoe would dedicate an entire day to pursuing information for her.

“It is why I invited you over again today,” Lady Bledsoe said, patting Anna’s hand. “I expect he should be arriving home shortly, and I didn’t wish you to wait even a moment longer than necessary for any word he received.”

It was as though the mention of Lord Bledsoe conjured him up, for Lady Bledsoe had barely spoken the words when he entered the dayroom, where they were taking tea. He sat in the chair next to Lady Bledsoe and heaved a sigh.

His sigh, coupled with his downcast appearance, didn’t bode well, Anna knew, so she prepared herself for the worst.

“Tea, my dear?” Lady Bledsoe said.

“Yes, thank you,” he replied.

Lady Bledsoe poured milk and tea into the remaining empty cup on the tea tray and added two sugars. “What happened, Bledsoe?” she asked. “I told our Lady Anna about your errand today, and we are eager for you to tell us everything—after you’ve caught your breath and had a sip of tea.”

Lord Bledsoe drank the entire contents of his teacup and then set it and the saucer aside. “I’m afraid there isn’t much to tell,” he said. “Essentially, lists of the deceased or wounded are forwarded to the War Office, but the ones they currently have on record don’t hold much, if any, additional information from what is sent to regimental headquarters and the families of the soldiers. And the last correspondence that was received regarding Avery’s regiment was essentially what you told us you received from the Gloucester headquarters, except for one thing: Avery’s regiment relocated to the city of Toulouse after the battle at Orthez.

“The gentleman with whom I spoke,” he continued, “also informed me that since Napoleon has abdicated his throne and has been exiled to the island of Elba, everything is in a tumult right now and is affecting the timely relay of military information. The only additional news they were able to share, I’m sorry to say, was that before Napoleon’s abdication, there was some communication that Wellington had taken his own troops into battle while at Toulouse. Undoubtedly, your brother’s regiment was involved in that battle as well.” He shook his head sadly. “I’m sorry, my dear. I’d hoped to bring you better news.”

Avery’s regiment had fought in another battle, another city, following Orthez? Lord Bledsoe’s information was discouraging and made Anna’s search for Avery even more daunting.

Oh, Papa, she thought, what shall I do? Then aloud she said, “Thank you so much for your efforts, Lord Bledsoe. I truly cannot thank you and Lady Bledsoe enough for your kindness.”

“There may be more yet we can do,” Lady Bledsoe said with an encouraging smile—encouraging, that was, if one disregarded her worried expression. “Perhaps you should stay with us for a while. What do you say? More news may yet be forthcoming.”

It was a generous offer, and Anna was tempted to agree to it, but staying with the Bledsoes might limit her in her search for Avery. They would try to act as mother and father to her, and while she longed for Papa, gone so recently, she needed the freedom to search the way she felt she should. She was determined to stand firm in this. “That is so kind of you, but I feel I must decline for now.”

“Very well,” Lady Bledsoe said, although she didn’t look happy about it. “But know that you are welcome here without further invitation, day or night. Do you understand me?”

Anna gave Lady Bledsoe a hug and then leaned over and kissed Lord Bledsoe on the cheek. “Thank you both from the bottom of my heart,” she said.

And then she left as properly but as swiftly as she could before she succumbed to tears right there in their dayroom or was talked out of her resolve.

She also needed time to ponder Lord Bledsoe’s information on her own to determine what the next step should be.

After a restless night, Anna had come to a difficult conclusion: she must continue her search for Avery, and it meant traveling to France, specifically Paris. She felt she owed it to Lord and Lady Bledsoe to inform them of her plans after all their kindness to her, which was why she called on them as early as was acceptable that morning.

“I cannot be enthusiastic about this,” Lady Bledsoe said. “I cannot imagine France to be a safe place to travel at present, even with the end of the war.”

“If I were your guardian, I would forbid it,” Lord Bledsoe added.

Anna knew there was good reason behind their objections. But it couldn’t be helped. She had made up her mind. “I understand your concerns,” Anna said. “If I thought there were any other way of retaining Avery’s inheritance and saving our home, I wouldn’t do this. But I am resolved. I want you to know I dearly thank you both for all you have done for me the past few days.”

“We are always here should you need us,” Lady Bledsoe said, squeezing her hand and then pulling her in for a very long hug.

After saying farewell to the Bledsoes, Anna returned to her lodgings and asked Sparks and Mary to join her in her room.

“I intend to travel to Paris,” she announced to them. “I’ve concluded it is my only hope of finding Avery,” she further explained when Sparks frowned and Mary’s eyes grew huge. “If there are any in authority who might know of Avery’s whereabouts, I believe they will be in Paris at present.”

“But, me lady,” Mary squeaked, “what do ye even know about France? I don’t speak French, and I daresay I never heard you speak no French, neither.”

“I truly hadn’t expected it to come to this, and I understand if you don’t wish to continue with me,” Anna said, hoping she sounded convincing, for she dearly wished to have Sparks and Mary at her side, bolstering her courage by their presence.

Sparks shook his head somberly. “It be like searching for a needle in a bundle of hay, me lady,” he said. “But I swore to yer father many a time after his accident that I would see to yer care when he couldn’t. So, if ye be going to France, I be going with ye.”

Mary’s huge eyes, full of fear, turned to Sparks and then back to Anna. “If Sparks be willin’, me lady, then so am I, even if the idea scares me mightily,” she said.

Sparks grunted, which Anna took as approval of Mary’s brave words. “Thank you both for being willing to go beyond what I could have imagined,” she said, relieved.

With that decision made, they each took an assignment: Sparks’s task was to learn the length of time it took to reach Dover, which inns they would encounter, and the typical availability of rooms. They would then need to search for passage across the Channel when they got there.

The next day, however, Lady Bledsoe sent a note to Anna, informing her that Lord Bledsoe had spoken to their acquaintance, the Duke of Aylesham. The duke owned a yacht, Serenity , currently moored at Dover, and he told Lord Bledsoe that it was sailing to Calais in a few days. He offered transport for “Lord and Lady Bledsoe’s friends.”

It was nothing short of a miracle, as far as Anna was concerned.

Anna’s and Mary’s assignment, therefore, became obtaining maps of France and a book or two about speaking French, so Anna could study them while they traveled to Dover to refresh what little French she’d learned as a girl.

The first bookshop they visited, The Gilded Rose, was a lovely shop that on any other occasion Anna would have enjoyed, as the books were chosen to draw in the ladies of the ton . They then went to a bookstore the shopkeeper at The Gilded Rose recommended called Temple of the Muses.

“Lots of books sold cheaply,” the shopkeeper had told her. “Might have precisely what you’re looking for.”

The Temple of the Muses certainly had a lot of books. The store was the largest collection of books Anna had ever seen. In fact, the place was rather overwhelming.

“May I assist you?”

Anna drew her gaze away from shelves of books that reached well over her head to see a young man wearing an apron, smiling at her. “I hope so,” she said. “I am looking for maps—specifically of France. Also, anything you may have regarding learning to speak French.”

The young clerk looked surprised at her request. He quickly changed his countenance, however, and tapped his chin in thought. “We do have a fine collection of atlases and maps. Let me see what I can find. And our collection of books regarding the French language is on shelves in a back room—not precisely what is selling the most readily at the present, you understand. I shall return as swiftly as possible.” He bowed quickly, and off he went.

Anna and Mary perused the shelves together while they waited for the clerk, looking at titles and reading the first paragraphs of several stories, and after not too long, the clerk returned with books in his arms.

“I found a rather good map of France, although it’s a few years old,” he said as he set it on the sales counter. “Also, here are a few French primers, although I daresay they may be too simple for your needs.”

The map of France was precisely what she was looking for, which was the most important thing. The French primers were rather basic, but she decided on two that seemed to cover different approaches to the language. She paid for the books, and the clerk wrapped them in paper for her.

She and Mary returned to the inn to find Sparks already there, having ordered supper for the three of them to be sent up.

“The folks around here was helpful—helpful indeed,” he said while Anna and Mary removed their cloaks and bonnets. “There’s a coach house not far from here what hires out for private individuals, so to speak, if ye’re willing to pay the cost. It’ll take us all the way to Dover. I took the liberty of arranging for one of their coaches.”

“Well done, Sparks,” Anna said. “That is excellent news.”

“Who would have thought someone like me would be on her way to France!” Mary said in not the most enthusiastic of tones.

Anna admitted to herself that she felt much the same. If she didn’t feel such an urgent need to find Avery, she would never attempt this.