attic. "Mr. Hayman," she
called as she reached the rough wooden door to his room. She
knocked with a moderate amount of force, enough to show she was
serious.
The door opened and Alfie was dressed,
suspender belts over his blue linen shirt. His hair was freshly
combed, but again he looked tired. "I absolutely forbid you to
enter the house after dark," she stated.
Leaning on the door frame, he looked
at her. "I've never been in the house after dark,
ma’am."
"I heard you."
Biting his lips together, he considered her.
"I swear it wasn't me." He sounded earnest, but she didn't know if
she could believe him. In truth, she knew nothing about him.
"Perhaps you need to lock the doors at night if you think people
are sneaking around the hallways."
They hadn't been locking the door. She
hadn't thought it necessary considering how desolate they were, but
it was technically possible that someone could be—someone from the
Turner farm, or even another further away.
She still didn't know if she believed
Alfie, but she knew he didn't have a key to the house and she would
be locking the door from now on. She'd accused him; he'd denied it.
There was a possibility it was someone else, so she didn't feel
right dismissing him outright without any real proof. There wasn't
much else she could do. So she gave him a nod and left. She would
be watching him, though.
Chapter 10:
Lisle appeared in the parlor. "A carriage is
coming," she said, excitement lacing her voice. Anne couldn't
remember how many days it had been since the vicar came to visit,
but it had been quite a few. Time seemed irrelevant out here. One
day followed another with little variance.
"Who is it?" Anne said more to herself.
Lisle shrugged. "They're still quite far
away."
Rising from her seat, Anne moved to the
window and looked out, seeing the carriage in the distance, barely
looking like it was moving. The weather was gray and cloudy, and
today they would have a visitor.
"It's probably the reverend again. Should I
bake a cake? The time they're taking, it will probably be ready by
the time he's here."
"Yes, why not? It would be nice to have
something to serve."
Anne paced around the parlor, waiting
for the carriage to draw closer. She stepped out the front door as
the carriage started turning. A blond head appeared out the
carriage window. Harry. Anne's heart soared and she rushed forward
as he opened the carriage and stepped down. He wore a blue-gray
jacket and he looked so grown. Still so very thin with youth and
there were blemishes on his cheeks. Anne couldn't stop smiling.
"You came."
"Quite a trek. Where are we, the end of the
world?"
"Just about."
Harry turned and looked up at the
house and frowned. He looked so much like his father, Anne
noted.
"Grim,” he said, his accent cuttingly sharp.
Oxford had changed his voice.
"Well, it is nicer inside. Although we
will have to prepare a bedroom for you." Anne thought with panic,
wondering which of the spare rooms was in shape to house a visitor.
Lisle would have to do the best she could to tidy a room for him.
"Come," she said with a smile. "I am so pleased you're
here."
Harry looked around, apparently less than
pleased to be there. Straightening his jacket, he walked up the
steps to the house. An unaccounted for breeze met him, making his
step waver. "Quite a draft there."
"The kitchen door must be open. It gets
quite windy out here. There is little stopping the wind coming over
the moors."
"Um," Harry said, looking around the
vestibule and taking in the dark wood carving. The distasteful look
on his face only deepened. "I suppose it is a house, which is a
mercy for someone in your position. We must be grateful for
that."
Anne grinned tightly, not knowing how to
respond. Lisle walked into the parlor, carrying the tea service and
placing it on the table.
"Come have some tea. You must be
parched after your journey." Anne sat down by the table, but Harry
didn't join her. Instead, he paced around the
called as she reached the rough wooden door to his room. She
knocked with a moderate amount of force, enough to show she was
serious.
The door opened and Alfie was dressed,
suspender belts over his blue linen shirt. His hair was freshly
combed, but again he looked tired. "I absolutely forbid you to
enter the house after dark," she stated.
Leaning on the door frame, he looked
at her. "I've never been in the house after dark,
ma’am."
"I heard you."
Biting his lips together, he considered her.
"I swear it wasn't me." He sounded earnest, but she didn't know if
she could believe him. In truth, she knew nothing about him.
"Perhaps you need to lock the doors at night if you think people
are sneaking around the hallways."
They hadn't been locking the door. She
hadn't thought it necessary considering how desolate they were, but
it was technically possible that someone could be—someone from the
Turner farm, or even another further away.
She still didn't know if she believed
Alfie, but she knew he didn't have a key to the house and she would
be locking the door from now on. She'd accused him; he'd denied it.
There was a possibility it was someone else, so she didn't feel
right dismissing him outright without any real proof. There wasn't
much else she could do. So she gave him a nod and left. She would
be watching him, though.
Chapter 10:
Lisle appeared in the parlor. "A carriage is
coming," she said, excitement lacing her voice. Anne couldn't
remember how many days it had been since the vicar came to visit,
but it had been quite a few. Time seemed irrelevant out here. One
day followed another with little variance.
"Who is it?" Anne said more to herself.
Lisle shrugged. "They're still quite far
away."
Rising from her seat, Anne moved to the
window and looked out, seeing the carriage in the distance, barely
looking like it was moving. The weather was gray and cloudy, and
today they would have a visitor.
"It's probably the reverend again. Should I
bake a cake? The time they're taking, it will probably be ready by
the time he's here."
"Yes, why not? It would be nice to have
something to serve."
Anne paced around the parlor, waiting
for the carriage to draw closer. She stepped out the front door as
the carriage started turning. A blond head appeared out the
carriage window. Harry. Anne's heart soared and she rushed forward
as he opened the carriage and stepped down. He wore a blue-gray
jacket and he looked so grown. Still so very thin with youth and
there were blemishes on his cheeks. Anne couldn't stop smiling.
"You came."
"Quite a trek. Where are we, the end of the
world?"
"Just about."
Harry turned and looked up at the
house and frowned. He looked so much like his father, Anne
noted.
"Grim,” he said, his accent cuttingly sharp.
Oxford had changed his voice.
"Well, it is nicer inside. Although we
will have to prepare a bedroom for you." Anne thought with panic,
wondering which of the spare rooms was in shape to house a visitor.
Lisle would have to do the best she could to tidy a room for him.
"Come," she said with a smile. "I am so pleased you're
here."
Harry looked around, apparently less than
pleased to be there. Straightening his jacket, he walked up the
steps to the house. An unaccounted for breeze met him, making his
step waver. "Quite a draft there."
"The kitchen door must be open. It gets
quite windy out here. There is little stopping the wind coming over
the moors."
"Um," Harry said, looking around the
vestibule and taking in the dark wood carving. The distasteful look
on his face only deepened. "I suppose it is a house, which is a
mercy for someone in your position. We must be grateful for
that."
Anne grinned tightly, not knowing how to
respond. Lisle walked into the parlor, carrying the tea service and
placing it on the table.
"Come have some tea. You must be
parched after your journey." Anne sat down by the table, but Harry
didn't join her. Instead, he paced around the
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