The Secret Life of Miss Anna Marsh by Ella Quinn

have a family, and staying here will do you no good. Marcella wouldn’t have wanted to see you like this.” Marest pulled out a handkerchief and blew his nose. “How will you travel to Kent?”
    â€œI’ll buy a horse in Weymouth and ride up,” Harry said. “There’s no reason to hurry. Maybe I’ll remember more on my way.”
    His father-in-law said, “I’ll give you a letter to give to the innkeeper at the Boot in Weymouth. He’ll take care of you and help you find what you need.”
    Harry’s throat closed, and he couldn’t speak, so he nodded. He was leaving the only home he’d known for more than two years, and returning to a life he still knew very little about.
    The two men turned in unison to walk back to the house. Harry went to the room he’d shared with his wife and stayed there until called for dinner.
    Marie, his mother-in-law, embraced him. “Harry, it’s for the best.”
    â€œYes, I suppose it is,” he replied. If only he knew who the dark-haired woman was.
    Two days later, Harry boarded the ship the Flying Angel for his trip to Weymouth. He’d dressed warmly in a wool frieze coat and muffler. After assuring the captain he knew his way around a ship, Harry was happy to be given a job helping trim the sails to take his mind off leaving. They arrived in Weymouth’s port late that afternoon.
    Harry thanked the captain, who’d given him directions to the Boot.
    â€œGood luck to you, young man. Anytime you want a job, let me know. You’re a born sailor.”
    Harry laughed. “I’ll be sure to do that. Thank you, again, for bringing me across. Safe passage back.”
    After reaching the inn, Harry handed his letter to the landlord, who showed him to a large chamber overlooking the docks. The landlord promised to help Harry purchase a good horse and the other provisions he’d need for the trip home. Home, what a strange thought. Would they welcome him, he wondered.
    November 7th, Marsh Hill, Kent, England
    Anna had been home for just over a week and, between resuming her normal duties at home, Rutherford, her smuggling gang, and an unexpected irritant in the form of Percival Blanchard, the squire’s eldest son, she’d had no time to have a good conversation with Aunt Lillian. Anna was in the breakfast room when her aunt appeared.
    â€œGood morning, my dear,” Aunt Lillian greeted her. “Are you riding with Lord Rutherford again today?”
    Anna swallowed. “Yes, he should be here soon. I need your advice. How do I convince Percy that I have no interest in him? The man is a coxcomb and a dead bore.”
    Lillian laughed. “Get betrothed. That will stop him. Unfortunately, he is the type of man who cannot understand that he is not irresistible to women.”
    Anna took a sip of tea and said thoughtfully, “I wonder if I can deny him when he comes to visit.”
    Her aunt raised a brow. “That’s rather hard to do when he brings his mother along.”
    Almost every day since Anna’s return, Lady Blanchard had come to call, accompanied by Percy. “I suppose you’re right.”
    â€œYou’re spending quite a bit of time with Lord Rutherford. Do you have intentions?”
    Anna shook her head. “No. He does.”
    â€œI thought you liked him.”
    Anna set her cup down. “I do, but we won’t suit.”
    Lillian frowned slightly. “This conversation is becoming distressingly akin to an interrogation. If you don’t wish me to know . . .”
    â€œOh, no. It’s not that.” Anna rushed to reassure her aunt. It would be good to talk with someone. “Rutherford wants to marry me, but I heard him describing what he wants in a bride, and it is not who I am.”
    â€œAh, I see.” Her aunt’s eyes sparkled. “A challenge?”
    â€œNot really. We haven’t spent much time together since shortly