Anna’s scalp tingled. God had sent her two more defenders, and perhaps in the process repaired the ancient quarrel which had long divided them. She crossed the room and grasped their still clasped hands. “Dear ladies, please do not resort to violence. Mr. Danders is merely doing his duty in cataloguing the contents of the house.” Although she could not be certain that Mrs. Danders should be involved in the work.
Mr. Danders thrust the teapot at Mrs. Pitcher and let go. She barely had time to catch it. Muttering unintelligible words, she handed Mamá’s treasure to Anna. “There you go, m’dear.”
“Thank you.” Anna accepted the precious gift and held it close, along with the Bible, fearful of dropping them, yet just as fearful of putting either down. “Mr. Danders, I appreciate your attention to detail. Perhaps you have already settled the matter of my inheritance?” At his blank look, she hastened on. “The fifty pounds annual inheritance my father arranged through Squire Beamish?”
“What? Oh, that.” He wrinkled his nose as if smelling something bad. “No, no, my dear. You misunderstood. It wasn’t fifty pounds annual. It was fifty pounds, period. And unfortunately—” he traded a smirk with his wife “—only twenty pounds are available at present.”
Anna’s head grew light. “Only twenty?” Once again, her mind refused to work as shock overtook her. Then a memory emerged. She and Papá and Peter used to play a game, one that Mamá did not care for in the least. They called it “What’s the worst thing that can happen?” Each player heaped misfortune upon an imaginary hero, all within the bounds of decency, all revealing how God could intervene and save the day. But never in their busiest imaginings had they ever burdened any fictional soul with the Job-like sorrows she had received this day. She had lost her family, her possessions and her place in the community. Now to be thrust out into the world with no place to go, she envisioned herself wandering down a muddy winter path, clutching a tattered cloth bag with her few earthly belongings, perhaps dying in a frigid snow bank on the side of the road. Picturing Peter’s playful face, she wanted to laugh. Almost.
“Ah, books.” Mr. Danders’s eyebrows arched, and he moved toward his wife. “Yes, those are worth something.”
“Hold.” Major Grenville lifted his cane across the man’s chest. “While Miss Newfield may be correct about your duty, I do not care for the manner in which you are carrying it out.”
Instead of responding, Mr. Danders stared at Anna, his narrowed eyes raking her up and down. “Hmm. We never did settle exactly who you are, did we, Major?” He removed his spectacles and wiped them on his sleeve, then returned them to his nose and swept another slow, critical gaze down Anna’s frame and up again.
She gulped down her discomfort. No one had ever looked at her in that manner, and it somehow made her feel…unclean. She quickly dismissed the implication of his evil stare, for she had no cause for shame.
The major took a step toward the shorter man. “Watch yourself, sir.” The growl in his voice sent a strange comfort shivering down Anna’s back.
Mr. Danders laughed—an awful, menacing sound. “Or?”
The major returned the man’s hard look. “As you can see, at present I am ill-fitted to follow through on any threat I may wish to make. However, my brother, Lord Greystone, will be very interested in the happenings in this corner of Shropshire, and you can be certain I shall apprise him of your actions.”
Mr. Danders’s eyes grew round again. “Lord Greystone?” The squeak returned to his voice.
“Further, sir, you will make copies of your inventory and the original list and send them to my brother without delay. Have I made myself clear?”
Mr. Danders tugged at his collar. “Yes. Very clear indeed.” He waved a hand at his wife, wordlessly ordering her to put down the books she had begun placing in a leather satchel.
“Now, Miss Newfield,” the major said, “we must decide on where you are to go. I have my brother’s carriage at your disposal. My batman and I have just come up from Portsmouth on our way to Greystone Lodge. If you would accept the hospitality of my mother, the viscountess, we can be there in a matter of five or six hours.”
Hope welled up inside of Anna. Was this the Lord’s provision? “I do not know what to say, sir. Surely your mother would not welcome an unexpected guest.”
A frown crossed his brow as he limped toward her. She met him halfway across the distance and experienced the full effects of his superior height and broad shoulders. My, what an impressive soldier he made. And yet, even one so well-equipped for his duty had been brought down by injury. Still, when he bent to speak quietly to her, her heart fluttered like a quaking sparrow.
“I received word upon landing in Portsmouth that my mother’s elderly companion has passed away.” He glanced toward the Danderses, who both stared at this innocent tête-à-tête with far too much interest. The major set a gentle hand upon her shoulder and turned her away from their prying eyes. “Mother is…she, well, hmm.” His gaze lit on the two items Anna still held, and she detected a twinkle in his eyes. “Miss Newfield, I believe you may safely put down your treasures. I will make certain they are not…misplaced.”
Warmth crept into her cheeks. “Oh. Yes. Of course.” She set the Bible and teapot on the occasional table and returned to his side. “I am deeply grieved to hear of your mother’s loss. Is there anything I can do to help?”
A note of sadness colored his soft chuckle. “What an interesting young lady you are. In the midst of your own grief, you are concerned about someone you do not even know.” His intense gaze brought more heat to her face, and she could think of no response. “Mother does not like to be alone. I would be pleased to recommend you for her new companion.”
“Yes.” Mrs. Pitcher inserted herself into the conversation. “That’s just the thing.”
“Indeed it is.” Mrs. Brown appeared at her former adversary’s elbow. “But you cannot travel alone with this gentleman.” She glanced over her shoulder toward the solicitor. “That one seems the sort who would speak ill of you just for spite.”
The major nodded his agreement. “Perhaps one of you could accompany us to Greystone Lodge. You could return by the post on the morrow. At my expense, of course.”
“Ah, ’twould be grand to see inside a viscount’s manor house.” Mrs. Pitcher sighed. “Alas, my husband cannot do without me at the bakery. Gladys, you’ll have to go.”
Mrs. Brown’s face became a progressive comedy: Surprise, skepticism, comprehension, then utter joy danced across her countenance. “Why, I can’t think of a single hindrance.”
Major Grenville smiled. Grinned, actually. “What say you, Miss Newfield?”
Anna placed a hand over her mouth as hot tears flooded her cheeks. All she could manage was a trembling nod. How good the Lord was to her. Before she called upon Him, He had already answered. Before she had known of her own need, He had already prepared a place for her. She lifted a silent prayer for the dearly departed old companion, gone to her reward.
“And now—” Mrs. Pitcher raised her voice, and all heads turned her way. “Gladys and I will help you pack, m’dear.” She glared at the solicitor. “And may the good Lord help anybody who tries to interfere.”
The two women made decisions about what to bring, for Anna could not put together a single coherent thought. They packed the wooden chest, which the major insisted belonged to her, working quickly so the travelers could reach Greystone Lodge before nightfall. All too soon the major’s carriage rumbled out of Blandon, and Anna left behind the only life she had ever known. It was all she could do not to weep aloud, even as tears blurred her vision.
No, she must not break down. Instead, she would cling to the precious promise that one day all of these trials would seem as nothing. One day she would behold the Lord, just as Papá now did…and Mamá, gone these four years…and every