Chapter Twenty-Four

R uthie wiped the sweat from her brow, upsetting her bonnet so it hung off the back of her head. In the full light of the sun, her face was red, and her freckles shone bold and bright like a ladybug's carapace. "Good Lord these girls can eat," she said, watching the lines form around the refreshment tables in rapt fascination.

Anna grinned at Beatrice and the aunts, who were in their element, directing the young players to and fro, advising them on what little morsels they should pile on their plates. "It's been a long day," she replied. "They're hungry."

Ruthie made an unladylike sound and crossed her arms over her thin waist. "When I'm hungry, my mother tells me to drink more tea," she grumbled.

Anna laughed, though when she regarded her friend, she realized it wasn't meant as a joke. She threw an arm around Ruthie's shoulder and nudged her toward the line. "Get in there. You deserve the biscuits just as much as they do. Treat yourself!"

After a moment's hesitation, Ruthie trudged forward, joining the horde, a pensive expression on her face. Anna had always thought that Ruthie was so skinny because she was so tall. Now she wondered if it was more than that.

She reminded herself to buy the aunts and Beatrice a thank-you gift later this week. Their efforts had paid off. Clearly, they had seen what Anna could not: girls enjoyed eating. Just like men, they worked up an appetite, and when you put them in a situation where they wouldn't be hounded or remonstrated for filling their bellies, they would do so gladly without shame.

It was a good day.

Once Anna overcame her nerves and self-doubt, she and her teammates had put their girls in their paces. It was daunting at first—similar to herding cats—but the children had come because they'd expressed interest in the sport. They only needed a little direction and then their excitement took over.

Coming in at two hours long, the clinic had lasted longer than originally planned, but it couldn't be helped. Anna and the others wanted to make sure that every little girl received one-on-one attention as well as a chance to bat and bowl with her fellow players. In the end, Ruthie informed her that over one hundred had shown up that day.

One hundred little girls who had been given the confidence to try something new and dream about being a part of a different kind of club, maybe even see themselves in a different kind of light.

As Anna continued to study the girls eating and laughing, cheeks rosy from exertion, wisps of hair fallen free from braids, she could barely contain herself. The need to hug and kiss every one of them flowed through her, along with the desire to tell them that this club would welcome them all.

The Single Ladies Cricket Club was a place where they could be different and still be appreciated.

Anna's ears twitched as footsteps sounded behind her. "I feel terrible accepting the bat and ball," the voice said, tearing her from her reflections. "We should let you give it to someone else, since we already have some."

Anna spun to find Helga behind her. "No, you keep it," she replied. "Inez will realize that one can't ever have enough."

Helga's smile was wistful, bordering on melancholy, while they regarded the scene. "I envy these girls, don't you? When I was young, I was so alone. My husband was a comfort to me, of course, but those early years were difficult. People… men"—her face dropped in disgust—"they used to call me such heinous names. Make me feel like I was less than a woman, all because I valued brawn and vitality. I wanted to push myself to see how strong I could be, not just listen to everyone else tell me what I could be. And now look." She raised her massive arms as if she was an ancient Greek statue on a plinth. "I am the strongest woman in the world."

Anna laughed, in the mood to tease. "You know… there are others who are saying the same thing."

A shadow fell over Helga's face, and Anna's laughter died a swift death. "They are wrong. And they know it."

Anna cleared her throat, anxious to change the subject. "By the by, earlier you said that you heard about this event. You didn't read about it in the newspaper?" When Helga shook her head, Anna continued, "How did you find out?"

Helga returned a curious look. "Didn't your husband tell you?"

"My husband?"

"Lord Newton wrote to me urging me to come. I know many of the people here—peers love to come to my shows—and most of them said they also received a letter." Seeing Anna's confusion, Helga added, "I'm sure many read the newspaper as well."

Anna blinked. "No… no, of course."

"Did I say something wrong?"

She let out a chirp of laughter, shaking her head. "Not at all. I was just thinking."

"About?"

"The little things." Anna rubbed at her temples. Suddenly, she felt hot, exposed, and exhausted. More than anything, now that her job was over, she wanted to rush home. To Jacob. But she still had to make sure the girls went home safely. And something else dogged at her—something only her companion could help her with.

"Tell me, Mrs. Bitterman. Do you ever cry?"

Helga snorted. "Cry? What kind of a question is that?"

Anna chuckled ruefully. "An honest one. Because you seem like the perfect woman to ask. You see, I can't figure out which me is the real one. Some days I believe in myself, and then other days I will freeze in fear. One moment I have confidence, and the next I am a frightened rabbit. At times I think I can live without love, and other times"—she blew out a long breath—"I believe the hole I've created inside myself might swallow me until there is nothing left."

Helga paused in thought, staring down at Anna. "Why would you want to live without love?"

Anna deflated. Perhaps because she'd given her everything today and was fatigued beyond measure, she couldn't do anything but lay herself bare. "I don't know if I'm strong enough to deal with it when it's over."

"Why would it be over?"

Anna bobbed her shoulders. "Because everything ends."

"Everyone dies as well," Helga replied philosophically. "Does that mean we shouldn't live?"

"I suppose not."

"Has anyone ever told you that you think too much?"

"I may have heard that before."

"Yes." Helga nodded. "Thinking too much can be a problem. It can get in the way of moving forward. If I thought too much about what others said about me then I never would have had the courage to be who I am. You understand?"

"I think so," Anna replied.

"Of course I cry," Helga went on. "Everyone does, even men when they think no one is watching. It is the only sensible thing to do. My body is perfect in every way. I work at it day and night. I know these things better than most. Holding in all those emotions… It creates a poison in your body, killing you from the inside. You see, there's nothing weak about crying or having doubt or being afraid. The weakness comes when you hide those emotions, from everyone and even yourself."

"So, the answer is to let it all out."

"The answer is to give yourself permission to live," Helga replied.

"And that will solve all my problems?" Anna asked.

"Of course not." Helga snorted. "It will only create more. But they'll be worth it because you'll be hardy enough to deal with them. The heart is a muscle too, you know. When you use it, it only gets stronger."

*

Jacob had waited for her.

This was Anna's day. As much as he'd wanted to surprise her by showing up on the field, he hadn't wanted to distract her. The clinic was important to her, and it wasn't Jacob's place to insert himself.

Nor was it his place to force himself into her life—although he wanted to do that too. Jacob didn't bother throwing that thought away anymore. What was the point? It would just come back again. And again.

So, he waited. Hoping that she would come to him. Hoping that he would be the one she wanted to share her day with the most.

He wasn't hiding, Jacob told himself. Anna would know where to find him… if she wanted to. The moon was round and full. The night held a wintry feel. The air tempted with possibility. Lavender infiltrated the garden, mingling with honeysuckle.

Then Jacob heard the soft rustling of leaves crunching under slippers. He closed his eyes, tempering the exhilaration speeding through his veins.

"Have you ever been inside the pagoda?" he heard her ask.

Jacob stood his ground, allowing Anna to position herself beside him. Shoulder to shoulder they gazed across the pond, where the lonely pagoda sat stoically, highlighting by the vivid moonlight. The pond was still, covered with glossy green lily pads and a hazy magical quality that seemed to float above it like mist.

"Yes," Jacob answered calmly, ignoring the way his stomach jumped when her cloak swished against his arm. "Would you…" He swallowed the lump in his throat. "Would you like to see it?"

Without waiting for an answer, he clasped Anna's hand and lead her to the bridge. Its planks were too thin, so they traveled across single file, Jacob first and Anna right after him, her hand never leaving his.

The door wasn't locked, but it required a swift push from Jacob to open. The pagoda's inside was blanketed in darkness. Thin swaths of light sliced through the small windows near the tops of the four walls. It was a small space, meant for decoration more than anything, but four people could stand here comfortably. Though if Jacob stretched out his arms, he might be able to touch each wall.

Still, Anna was entranced by the little structure. She meandered around the tight area, trailing her fingertips along the wood. "It's like being inside a dollhouse," she said, a note of whimsy in her voice.

It tugged at Jacob. If only he was the knight he'd dreamed himself to be when he was younger and this was a fairytale.

"How did the day go?" he asked.

Anna didn't need to say a thing. The way her eyes brightened and her smile crowded her face told him everything. She launched into her day, telling him about the horde of girls, Samuel's lack of help; how many biscuits a girl named Ruthie ate. She went into great detail about some of the girls and all the questions they had about the club.

Jacob leaned against the wall wearing a contented grin. He liked hearing the excitement in her voice, the way Anna's stories took over her body. It was love and confidence in action.

After a moment of hesitation, she said, "Helga Bitterman came. She brought her daughter."

"Oh?" Jacob replied.

A sliver of moonlight rained in from the window above him, cutting her across her alabaster skin. "She said you wrote her a letter. She said you wrote many letters."

Jacob crossed his arms. "I realized that viscounts have many contacts. I decided to use them."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Jacob didn't answer. He didn't know how to answer.

Anna did. She moved toward him. "You wanted to make sure the clinic had children. You wanted to make sure that it would be a success."

The closer she came, the more his muscles tightened. He held himself there. Waiting for her. "You were in charge of it," he said softly. "It was always going to be a success."

The corners of her sweet mouth inched up. "Maybe," she said. "Maybe not. Thank you."

Anna placed her hand on his chest, right above his heart. Like a puzzle piece had been locked into place, his satisfaction was intense. "I… It was nothing. A small gesture," Jacob said gruffly.

Anna's smile magnified. The room felt like it had been infused with light. He could see her so surely now. Her green eyes dancing with mirth. Her soft brown locks curling around her ears like ferns. How could anyone ever think she looked like a boy? Anna was all woman. The epitome of femininity.

"Many small gestures can turn into a large one. Roses… and newspaper articles… cold hands and warm pockets." Illustrating her point, Anna moved her other hand into the pocket of his coat, snugly keeping it inside.

"And…" Jacob's mouth stumbled. He was having a difficult time gathering his thoughts. He licked his lips. Anna leaned onto him on her tiptoes. He could see the striations of her eyes, the golden flecks that peeked through all the green. She pressed her chest into his, almost in a pleading way, begging him to hold it. Jacob needed no further invitation; he wound his arms around her waist and squeezed.

They exchanged breaths. "And what do you think that large gesture was?" he asked.

Anna's gaze flickered back and forth between his eyes. Her mouth was still curled in a knowing way, as if she knew all the secrets of the world and was bursting to tell him. But then her focus changed. To his mouth.

The hand on his chest slid up his throat, pausing near his lips. When her fingers grazed him, the feeling was fleeting and light. Jacob let himself lick the pads of her fingers, and her mouth opened with a slight intake of breath, showing her white teeth.

When her hand dropped away, Jacob thought that her exploration was finished. He girded his disappointment swiftly.

And then she came to him.

Anna's mouth landed on his with barely there pressure. Like testing the waters before one jumped in, she was measured and contained, her lips shut as she lifted her chin.

Jacob allowed her to feel him, to seek him out. He allowed her time to come to terms with her decision. And it was a decision. He understood that. It was a choice. And Anna had chosen him.

When her lips parted, Jacob accepted the invitation.

He hooked his hand behind her nape and crushed their lips together. No longer would they deny each other. A purr came from her throat, a heightened catch of noise that was both exhilarated and shocked, spurring Jacob further.

Nothing could have prepared him for her taste. A heady blend of mint and urgency, it addicted Jacob from the start. Thoughts evaporated as quickly as they landed. All he could do was stand in place and experience this onslaught of greedy need and wild abandon.

Their hands grew restless. Anna clawed at everything between them, pushing his overcoat from his shoulders, untying his necktie and tossing it to the ground. Jacob was equally as ravenous, ridding her of her cloak and working on the buttons on the back of her gown.

Their actions were clumsy, their lips wet and unskilled, and yet this time was beyond precious. As Jacob swept his tongue inside her mouth, Anna rewarded him with a groan that went straight to his shaft. Their tongues collided, playing with one another, licking and tasting, savoring and clinging. Explorations were made, turns were taken as they devoured one another, forsaking all sense of propriety and culture. Here in the little house on the stilts, in their pagoda floating above a sea of wonder and enchantment, they were free to release the leashes of their second guessing. Here they could love without words.

And it was love. Pure as snow and strong as a current, it could be nothing else.

Jacob pulled back, releasing her swollen mouth. Anna's focus was dazed, her lips plump and so very used. "Are you sure?" he asked, tipping his forehead to hers.

"I have to stop hiding."

Jacob clutched her face, kissing the top of Anna's head. "There is no more hiding between us," he said, his breaths shallow and frantic. If he wasn't inside her soon, all hell would break loose. "I swear to you now, my love will never fade. If you have to worry about something in life, let it not be that."

Anna jerked away from his hold, her eyes as large as saucers. She looked stricken, conflicted, as if she might run for the bridge and never look back. Jacob resisted the urge to sweep her into his arms again, knowing that she had to make the final decision. She'd come this far. He was only asking her to take one more step.

Jacob's voice shook as if his throat was coated in shards of glass. "Come back to me—"

Anna's movement stopped him. Slowly, she raised her hands to her shoulders and swept her gown to the gown. Underneath, she only wore a chemise, thin and translucent, and that soon followed the gown.

She stood before him completely naked, statuesque and regal, head high. A shiver swept through Jacob from the enthralling vision, but Anna did not waver. Her rose-colored nipples strained and puckered, her chest pumped, her thick eyelashes dusted her cheeks, but she did not waver against the cold or his dark gaze.

"I need you to do something for me, Jacob."

"What?"

Her voice was firm, and direct, hitting him to his core. "I want you to make me come so hard that I cry."

Fuck.

That should have been enough. But Jacob asked, "And then?"

Anna ran her gaze over his body, from top to bottom. Her smile was carnal. "And then I want you to dry my tears and do it all over again."