“If you even think about leaving the estate grounds or running off with that Tom you will no longer have a family—or money.” His voice was firm and final, sending chills down Anne’s spine. Hastily she turned the knob, escaping down the long corridor.
Her mind raced when she thought of the conversation she had just encountered with her parents. More of an execution, she thought grimly. She had marched in her father’s office not thirty minutes ago, her heart filled with hope. She was planning an elopement with Tom, her parents seemed blissfully unaware, life was perfect. Now, as she strode quickly to her bedchambers, her life had changed.
Her father had betrothed her to a Duke! Never in her life had news been more devastating. He had told her quickly and sharply leaving no room for allowances. They were to be wed in one month and she was expected to meet him tonight at dinner. She scoffed at the thought. The Duke was most likely fat and balding, otherwise he would have been married already and she was supposed to life with this man for the rest of her life!
Absently she swung open the door to her bedchambers, nearly knocking over Lucy, her maid. Anne’s green eyes were filled with tears as she fell onto her canopied bed. “Miss Thompson are you ok?” Lucy stood over Anne, her face filled with concern.
Anne forced a small smile, wiping the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m fine. Can I please be left by myself?” The loyal maid nodded and quickly exited, securing Anne’s privacy with a sharp snap of the lock.
Anne fell back amongst the thick covers, hugging her chest for comfort. Her red hair spreading like a halo. Anne’s skin was pale yet remained unblemished. She was a breathtaking beauty, her body curved to perfection and her legs long. At her coming out she had received six offers of marriage in a matter of weeks, all of which were met with resistance. Anne refused to marry them and her father had the unpleasant task of refusing politely.
She stood up slowly, her tears subduing. Anne’s eyes wandered her room trying to clear her vision. It was rather large room, yet comfortable. A velvet green sofa sat on one corner, facing her porcelain fireplace. To her other side stood her solid oak writing desk. In front of her bed was a massive window, allowing a break taking view of the estate along with streams of sunlight. Heavy, thick draperies was pulled back and secured by gold ribbon. Anne loved to sit on the window seat and gaze out, watching the workers or reading. Ever since she was six Anne would sneak away from the confines of her mother to read here. She preferred it greatly to the stuffy sitting room. Anne read every book she could get her hands on. Reading brought her the most pleasure. It allowed to her forget her life, the life she hated.
She suffered her father’s scrutiny because she was born a female. Anne’s mother, Victoria, suffered serious complications with the birth of Anne and is therefore unable to bear children. That left William alone with only a female to rise as his heir. The Thompson’s only hope of preserving their estate and wealth was to marry within their class. Anne had been reminded of that fact on a daily basis throughout her twenty years. She was to find a suitable man within the Ton and marry. Unfortunately, Anne did not share those aspirations with her parents. She preferred working with her hands and getting dirty as opposed to boring balls. Anne favored simple, comfortable gowns as contrasting the lavish ones her mother insisted she wear. Most of all, Anne enjoyed the simple life, the life she had found with Tom.
She had met Tom when he had come to work in the stable. Ever since she was able to walk Anne had a fascination with the stable and would sneak away and help the hands clean and groom the horses. Tom came to work there three years ago and she immediately fell smitten with him. He was handsome and rugged. His dark hair and piercing eyes melted her with a single glance. His callused hands fit smoothly on her body and his unkempt face tickled hers when they kissed. He was five and twenty and had seen the world. Tom had traveled to the United States, Italy, France and eventually came back to London. From there, he was recruited to work on her family’s estate, Merryton Place, which was one hour away from London.
Six months ago her father learned of their involvement and Tom’s intentions to wed his daughter. Fury boiled inside William and he quickly sent Tom away to a neighboring farm. Anne shivered as she remembered the night her father had come to her after discovering their relationship. His eyes looked like murder as she slowly told her that she was never to see the man again. Anne, in her determined and defying way, assuaged her father yet continued to allow Tom to court her. At times she felt guilty of her open defiance, but her love for Tom was so deep, and Tom’s steady encouragement blinded Anne to the obvious. Tom wanted Anne’s money, not her love.
Shuffling slowly toward her desk she pulled out a piece of rose colored stationary. Dabbing the quill in ink she wrote,
Tom,
My father betrothed me to a Duke! I am to marry him in one month’s time. Tom, I need you now. Please meet me tonight at the tree at ten o’clock. My father is on to our outings so be careful to not be seen.
Love forever,
Anne
Folding the letter, she sprayed some perfume lightly over it and placed the letter in her bosom. She opened the door and much to her delight the corridor was empty. She strode quickly through the back entrance of the house, out through the lush gardens. Their estate was known to have the best gardens in the area and Anne took pride in that fact. She herself spent hours tending to them despite her mother’s protests to remain clean and to learn to needlepoint. Anne had the ability to turn any piece of land into a colorful masterpiece yet stitching squares on cloth seemed an impossible task. The gardens were filled with every type of flower in every color range and there was not a weed in site. Turning the corner, the stable came into view. Collapsing against the sturdy wooden doors, Anne breathlessly looked for Rusty.
His curly red hair, for which he was named, arose from behind a stall door. “Rusty!” Anne’s face lit up as she walked over to the elderly stable hand. Rusty had worked on the Thompson estate for thirty years and had seen Anne grow up before his eyes. She was like a daughter to him. When she was younger she would charm him with stories of her life while she helped clean the stalls. As she grew, so did her knowledge of the world and she would enlighten him with information from the books she had read. Rusty enjoyed her visits, as her company was refreshing. Such a young beauty with such a sharp mind. Last year she had even started to teach him to read and he was coming along quite nicely. His heart sank when she placed the small letter into his callused hands. “Please?” Her eyes were filled with love and he nodded slowly, his gaze to the ground. It broke his heart to see the joy in her eyes, the radiating glow that flowed from her body.
His gaze shifted upward as he watched her walk quickly back toward the house, the letter still firmly enclosed in his hands. He hated deceiving her but William held the promise of food and shelter. If only there were some way to help Anne find another messenger then his heart could stop sinking every time her bright, cheery face lit up the stable.
Slowly he pushed the letter in his pocket and walked toward the house, cautiously avoiding parts where Anne might see him. After delaying his arrival, allowing Anne to be secured in her room before he paraded in, he finally entered the house and approached William’s office. Knocking slowly on the door he was greeted with a booming voice. “Come in.” Rusty stopped, his hands on the knob. William was a friendly and jovial man, this ferocity apparent in his voice scared Rusty yet he slowly entered, snapping the door behind and securing it with a lock.
William sat, hovered amongst his books, his glasses perched on his nose. From that picture William appeared to be a friendly man, which he was, normally. Yet when he stood at six foot five with a rather large build, he had the power to intimidate anyone. Despite his age, William’s hair remained golden brown and his body was a strong as any man half his age. His loud voice, which normally had friendly undertones, could be turned into one to be feared, much as it is now. Rusty swallowed as William looked up, meeting his expectant gaze. Placing his hand out, William ordered, “Let me see it.” Rusty complied and sunk into the nearby leather chair while William stood, pacing.
Rusty watched William’s body tense as his eyes followed Anne’s perfect penmanship. Rusty could tell from his master’s stance that this letter displeased him more than the others.
William made his way toward his desk, sinking into his high back leather chair, shoving the letter in Rusty’s direction. “Bring it to the boy. “ Rusty nodded, placing the letter carefully in his pocket and quickly exited to deliver.
William watched the stable hand leave and then sunk his hands through his thick hair. He had wanted to hide that letter, as he did many others, yet he allowed Rusty to deliver this one. He had to. If Tom did not appear on Merryton Place’s property tonight then Anne would surely seek him elsewhere. No, it was better they remain on his property, where he could easily eavesdrop without the threat of stalking.
William’s hand reached to his last drawer and pulled it open, exposing a vast quantity of Anne’s letters that had remained undelivered. His heart sank realizing the pain he was causing his daughter, yet he assuaged that pain with the knowledge that she was unable to comprehend the man Tom really was. She was a young woman in love with a worldly man. A man who knew, all too well, the words to say and the things to do that wooed young Anne into his embrace time and time again. “Someday Anne, someday you will realize that I am doing this for love.”