he wanted to see how far he could push her before she cracked.
There was a beat of silence, then Lady Fortescue’s shoulders sagged a little, the perfect posture disappearing and with it some of the formality she exuded.
‘I’ve been rude,’ she said, her voice softer, less clipped. ‘Inexcusably so. I apologise. I suppose I’m not used to talking to people.’
The door opened before Harry could answer, the elderly butler followed closely by a young maid.
‘I thought you might like to offer your guest some tea, my lady,’ the butler said.
The maid set down a tray with two teacups, a pot, a jug of milk and a plate of crumbly biscuits before hurriedly leaving the room. The butler hesitated for a moment at the door.
‘Perhaps the gentleman will be staying for lunch?’ he asked, almost hopefully.
Lady Fortescue laughed, exuding warmth towards the elderly servant, her grey eyes glittering as she turned back to Harry.
‘I’m sure you’re far too busy.’
He inclined his head. There was always work to be done running his country estate and looking over the accounts, but he could of course have made time for lunch.
The butler left, muttering something about a proper invitation before closing the door behind him.
‘Your uncle’s butler seems very keen to have guests to wait upon.’
‘I expect my cousin, Beatrice, put him up to asking. He is completely devoted to her, probably would jump in front of a horse if she asked him to without a second’s thought.’
‘Your cousin is playing matchmaker?’
Lady Fortescue grimaced, a reaction that would have normally dented Harry’s pride, but he was quickly learning this young widow was strongly opposed to any future romantic link.
‘Forgive me for not ordering tea sooner,’ she said. ‘I am not used to entertaining guests.’
Most wives of titled gentlemen were exemplary hosts, their main role to welcome guests into a well-looked-after home, but perhaps during her mourning period Lady Fortescue had locked herself away out of devotion to her late husband and forgotten the basics of hospitality.
Harry sipped his tea, selected a biscuit and munched on it. All in all it had been a strange morning. He’d expected to come away with an engagement, at least in name, to Lady Fortescue. Instead he’d been more or less dismissed, despite the young widow’s softening in the last part of their interview.
Standing, Harry was just about to take his leave when the door opened again and the doddery butler entered.
‘A package for you, my lady.’
He’d never seen the blood drain from someone’s face as quickly as it did from Lady Fortescue’s. Quietly she thanked the butler, who placed the package on the table in front of her before leaving the room.
Her hands were shaking as she stood, an unnaturally sunny smile plastered on her face.
‘Thank you for visiting.’ Her words came out as a choked whisper, and a hand flew to her mouth as if to claw them back in.
The world was spinning, or that was how it seemed to Anna. Everything in the room had gone blurry and she felt herself stagger uncoordinatedly a few steps to one side. Before she could get her panic under control strong arms had looped around her waist and were guiding her back to the armchair, pressing her firmly, insistently, into the seat.
‘Take deep, slow breaths.’ Lord Edgerton’s voice was quiet and calm in her ear.
Silently Anna cursed. Two minutes later and Lord Edgerton would have left. Now there would be questions, enquiries about her health, probably even a follow-up visit. At least the rules of politeness meant he would not enquire what was in the package.
‘What on earth is in that package?’ Lord Edgerton murmured, more to himself than to her. ‘That’s it, long, deep breaths, you’ll feel recovered in a moment.’
Thankfully he didn’t seem inclined to call for a servant or her cousin to come and attend her; he seemed perfectly content to deal with this himself. Anna had to admire a man who could deal calmly with a panicking near-stranger—most would just step back and convince themselves it wasn’t their problem.
Opening her eyes, she saw the room had come back into focus. In front of her she could see her hands gripping the arms of the chair so firmly her knuckles had turned white, and a few feet further away was the offending package.
‘Have some tea,’ Lord Edgerton suggested, backing away and sitting down in the other armchair, his demeanour remarkably relaxed.
She declined with a shake of her head. The teacup would only rattle in the saucer and give away quite how discomposed she was, if the attack of panic hadn’t done that enough already.
‘Tell me it is none of my concern,’ Lord Edgerton said, his eyes fixed on hers, ‘but what could be so awful about this package on the table?’
‘It is none of your concern,’ Anna said, trying to inject some haughtiness into her voice, but failing miserably—the squeak that came forth from her mouth was more adolescent girl than woman of the world.
Lord Edgerton actually grinned. ‘The gossips say you are unreadable, Lady Fortescue. Unreadable and superior, but I think they’ve got you all wrong. Right now I can read you as easily as I read the morning papers.’ He paused, catching her eye and holding it until Anna was forced to look away. ‘You’re petrified of whatever is inside that box.’
Slowly she inclined her head; there was no point denying it. He’d witnessed her reaction first-hand.
‘What do you think is inside?’
‘Truly, I have no idea,’ she said honestly. It could be a bloodied rag, a pile of excrement, a particularly graphic and threatening letter. All of these things she’d received in similar packages over the last few weeks. ‘But it won’t be anything pleasant.’
‘There’s no markings to say where or who it is from. How can you be so sure it will be something unpleasant?’
Instead of answering Anna stood, steeling herself mentally before raising her hands and starting to open the package. Her fingers were shaking so badly that she fumbled with the string that held the box closed. Quickly Lord Edgerton rose to his feet and placed a cool hand on top of hers, stilling her fingers.
‘Allow me,’ he said, not waiting for her to reply before unfastening the string and opening the box.
The sharp inhalation of surprise told Anna that he hadn’t been prepared for whatever was inside. She stepped forward, but Lord Edgerton moved in front of her, blocking her view. As he raised his hands to her arms she flinched, as she always did whenever anyone touched her, but he gripped her gently but insistently, moving her away from the table.
‘What
