She was shivering, and he held her fast, stroking her hair. ‘Hush, hush. You didn’t die, they didn’t catch you, and you’re quite safe here with me.’
She lay in the circle of his arms and gradually the shivering stopped and she was quiet. Still holding her, he sat, thinking over what she had just said. This was without doubt the coach that had carried her into the district. He must have a look at it tomorrow.
That was for tomorrow, but tonight he was beginning to realise exactly what Anne had been through. She had at last remembered something, but he could almost wish it had remained buried for her sake—the horror of the accident, her helplessness as the water rose inside the coach, her certainty that she was about to drown…And then her panic-stricken flight, which had ended in her collapse on the drive at Hatherton. Throughout it all was her refusal to give in, her determination to survive. Sam had called her a brave lass, but he didn’t know the half of it. James was visited by a fierce desire to defend her, to find the villains who had put her into such mortal danger, and make them suffer for it.
He sat holding her for a little longer, surprised again at the depth of his feelings. They were a far cry from the light-hearted flirtations, the short-lived affairs, which had earned him his grandmother’s disapproval. But he wasn’t sure that that lady would approve of his growing interest in Anne, either. In fact, he was damn certain she wouldn’t! He could hear her now, not shouting—his grandmother never shouted—but with a voice icy with anger. ‘What are you trying to do, James? Ruin us? Make us the laughing stock of the scandal sheets? Have you considered what the world will make of this? Barbara Furness, Mary Abernauld, Clara Paston—all of them the cream of London society! And now you insult them and me by spending your time with a…a nameless nobody. Aldhurst of Roade House and Miss Who Knows What of Nobody Knows Where! I won’t have it, I tell you! I won’t have it!’ Yes, he was quite sure his grandmother would not approve. Shaking his head ruefully, he put Anne gently back against the pillows. For the moment it was more important to establish her identity. He looked at her. There were traces of tears on her face, but she looked very beautiful. He bent over and kissed her cheek. She murmured a small protest, but didn’t wake. James picked up one of the candles, blew the rest out and left.
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