a few moments, not speaking. The fire crackled and sent up a little shower of festive sparks. James thought he would never smell burning pine again without thinking of this tender fragment of time, with Annis’s hand in his and her strong profile glowing in the firelight. They were, at the very least, friends. Good friends, who could sit together in silence, hands linked, content just to be together. That was no small thing, after the months of misery.
It even seemed possible, in this moment, that his heart need not break after all.
42
Harriet
Harriet had seen the Marquess of Rosefield only from a distance, but she recognized him immediately. She had been expecting him.
Grace answered the door, and Harriet emerged from the herbarium just in time to see Grace stop and stare, startled by the sight of the tall, thin young man at Annis’s side.
Annis said, “Good morning, Grace. This is James. I know it’s early, but I need to see Aunt Harriet as soon as possible.”
“This is—oh my, Miss Annis, of course it is!” Grace astounded Harriet by dropping a perfect curtsy. “Lord Rosefield, I believe, is your proper title, sir, is it not? What a great pleasure to see you here in America! Miss Harriet will be delighted—why, I’ll fetch her right now—but I do hope, my lord, you had a most pleasant journey, and that you’ll find our country as beautiful as your own. Miss Annis has told us all about it, and—”
Harriet saw the young man’s eyes widen at this flood of conversation. She stepped out into the hallway so he and Annis could see her and said, “Thank you, Grace,” cutting through the tide of words as gently as she could.
Annis brushed past Grace and hurried down the hallway. James hesitated, then handed his hat and coat to Grace with a little nod of acknowledgment and followed. “Aunt Harriet!” Annis exclaimed. “I have to talk to you, to tell you—”
Harriet interrupted her. “Of course, Annis, we’ll talk. But first, do please introduce me properly.”
“Oh yes. Sorry. This is James. James, this is my great-aunt, Harriet Bishop.”
The marquess inclined his head. “Miss Bishop.”
She liked him at once, but was not tempted, as Grace had been, to curtsy. She put out her hand in the American style, and he took it. “Marquess, I’m glad to meet you at last. I’ve heard a great deal about you.”
“And I about you,” he said, shaking and then releasing her hand. “I will be happy to postpone pleasantries, as Annis is quite upset about her stepmother.”
“Is she?” Harriet led the way toward the parlor. “Grace, some coffee, I think, as it’s so early. Marquess Rosefield, do come this way. Annis, tell me what’s happened.”
Annis began speaking even before they had taken seats. Harriet bent her head to listen, even as she noticed that the marquess took a straight chair as close to Annis as he could.
“Blackwell’s Island, Aunt Harriet!” Annis finished. “My father—I can’t believe he would be so cruel. It’s true she seems—I can’t argue that it seems her mind is gone, but I know—” She caught herself and only just managed to stop herself from casting a guilty glance James’s way. “That is, I—I worry—that she’s still there, trapped.”
The marquess asked, “Is this place so terrible? We have lunatic asylums in England, of course, and while they were appalling in years past, I understand they have improved greatly.”
“It is terrible!” Annis said. “There was a book about Blackwell’s Island, and a great public outcry, but very little has been done.”
“I’m afraid Annis is right,” Harriet said. “Blackwell’s calls itself an asylum, but it is in effect a prison, simply a place to put people away. I’m shocked Mr. Allington would allow this to happen to Frances, no matter how ill she is.”
“You are related to Mrs. Allington, I believe,” the marquess said.
“We are distant cousins.”
“Then it’s only natural for you to be concerned with her well-being.”
“We all are!” Annis assured him.
“Are you quite sure Frances is in Blackwell’s?” Harriet asked Annis.
“I suspected, when we found she had disappeared. Then Papa admitted it.” Annis’s eyes met Harriet’s in a glance full of meaning, and Harriet understood. Annis hadn’t had to guess where Frances had been taken.
Grace came in with a tray. “Here we are,” she said. “I do hope, my lord, that you like our coffee. I believe it’s different from the sort you’re used to. There’s fresh cream, and some bread and butter, in case you haven’t had your breakfast