prayer! “Thank you,” she whispered to both the young man and the Lord.
“Indeed.” Mrs. Danders balled her fists at her waist and glared back at the soldier. Then she looked about the room again. “Other than the furniture and this storage chest, there’s nothing of value here. I’ll see to those books in the parlor.” She pushed past the aide and stomped down the hallway toward the staircase.
“We should follow, miss.” Matthews waved one hand in that direction.
“Yes, of course.” Anna tried to force her mind to work but other than her frantic prayers, no sensible thoughts would form. Gone were her plans to wander from room to room in a leisurely manner recalling her family’s happy years in this vicarage. Gone were her hopes of packing away one or two mementos of her loved ones to carry with her wherever she went. She could cling only to God’s promise that He would guide and take care of her, no matter what the circumstances. And that no one could take from her.
Returning to the parlor, she found the major sitting stiffly, leaning on his cane and watching Mrs. Danders like a hawk eyeing its prey. When Anna entered the room, he stood and gave her a slight bow. Before she could insist that he sit back down, she noticed Mrs. Danders pulling books from the shelf beside Papá’s chair. No, no longer Papá’s. It all belonged to the new vicar now. Anna hoped the gentleman would appreciate this small library that Papá had bought book by book, often instead of much-needed new clothes.
The pile of books on the floor toppled over, and Papá’s Bible slid across the floor.
Anna grabbed it before Mrs. Danders could. She clutched it to her chest, fighting tears. “My father brought this with him from Oxford.”
The woman snorted in a most unladylike manner. “Keep it, then.”
Mr. Danders hurried into the parlor with Mrs. Brown and Mrs. Pitcher, the baker’s wife, hard on his heels and scolding him like magpies.
“I give that to the vicar’s wife meself.” Mrs. Pitcher pointed to the delicately painted porcelain teapot in the solicitor’s hands. “It ain’t yours. It’s Miss Newfield’s. And you’ll give it to her now, or I’ll fetch the oaken rolling pin you were so anxious to put on your list.”
“And I’ll be fetching that poker by the hearth, you old thief.” Mrs. Brown’s eyes blazed.
The two women traded a look and shook hands.
Anna’s scalp tingled. God had sent her two more defenders, and perhaps in the process repaired the ancient quarrel which had long divided them. She crossed the room and grasped their still clasped hands. “Dear ladies, please do not resort to violence. Mr. Danders is merely doing his duty in cataloguing the contents of the house.” Although she could not be certain that Mrs. Danders should be involved in the work.
Mr. Danders thrust the teapot at Mrs. Pitcher and let go. She barely had time to catch it. Muttering unintelligible words, she handed Mamá’s treasure to Anna. “There you go, m’dear.”
“Thank you.” Anna accepted the precious gift and held it close, along with the Bible, fearful of dropping them, yet just as fearful of putting either down. “Mr. Danders, I appreciate your attention to detail. Perhaps you have already settled the matter of my inheritance?” At his blank look, she hastened on. “The fifty pounds annual inheritance my father arranged through Squire Beamish?”
“What? Oh, that.” He wrinkled his nose as if smelling something bad. “No, no, my dear. You misunderstood. It wasn’t fifty pounds annual. It was fifty pounds, period. And unfortunately—” he traded a smirk with his wife “—only twenty pounds are available at present.”
Anna’s head grew light. “Only twenty?” Once again, her mind refused to work as shock overtook her. Then a memory emerged. She and Papá and Peter used to play a game, one that Mamá did not care for in the least. They called it “What’s the worst thing that can happen?” Each player heaped misfortune upon an imaginary hero, all within the bounds of decency, all revealing how God could intervene and save the day. But never in their busiest imaginings had they ever burdened any fictional soul with the Job-like sorrows she had received this day. She had lost her family, her possessions and her place in the community. Now to be thrust out into the world with no place to go, she envisioned herself wandering down a muddy winter path, clutching a tattered cloth bag with her few earthly belongings, perhaps dying in a frigid snow bank on the side of the road. Picturing Peter’s playful face, she wanted to laugh. Almost.
“Ah, books.” Mr. Danders’s eyebrows arched, and he moved toward his wife. “Yes, those are worth something.”
“Hold.” Major Grenville lifted his cane across the man’s chest. “While Miss Newfield may be correct about your duty, I do not care for the manner in which you are carrying it out.”
Instead of responding, Mr. Danders stared at Anna, his narrowed eyes raking her up and down. “Hmm. We never did settle exactly who you are, did we, Major?” He removed his spectacles and wiped them on his sleeve, then returned them to his nose and swept another slow, critical gaze down Anna’s frame and up again.
She gulped down her discomfort. No one had ever looked at her in that manner, and it somehow made her feel…unclean. She quickly dismissed the implication of his evil stare, for she had no cause for shame.
The major took a step toward the shorter man. “Watch yourself, sir.” The growl in his voice sent a strange comfort shivering down Anna’s back.
Mr. Danders laughed—an awful, menacing sound. “Or?”
The major returned the man’s hard look. “As you can see, at present I am ill-fitted to follow through on any threat I may wish to make. However, my brother, Lord Greystone, will be very interested in the happenings in this corner of Shropshire, and you can be certain I shall apprise him of your actions.”
Mr. Danders’s eyes grew round again. “Lord Greystone?” The squeak returned to his voice.
“Further, sir, you will make copies of your inventory and the original list and send them to my brother without delay. Have I made myself clear?”
Mr. Danders tugged at his collar. “Yes. Very clear indeed.” He waved a hand at his wife, wordlessly ordering her to put down the books she had begun placing in a leather satchel.
“Now, Miss Newfield,” the major said, “we must decide on where you are to go. I have my brother’s carriage at your disposal. My batman and I have just come up from Portsmouth on our way to Greystone Lodge. If you would accept the hospitality of my mother, the viscountess, we can be there in a matter of five or six hours.”
Hope welled up inside of Anna. Was this the Lord’s provision? “I do not know what to say, sir. Surely your mother would not welcome an unexpected guest.”
A frown crossed his brow as he limped toward her. She met him halfway across the distance and experienced the full effects of his superior height and broad shoulders. My, what an impressive soldier he made. And yet, even one so well-equipped for his duty had been brought down by injury. Still, when he bent to speak quietly to her, her heart fluttered like a quaking sparrow.
“I received word upon landing in Portsmouth that my mother’s elderly companion has passed away.” He glanced toward the Danderses, who both stared at this innocent tête-à-tête with far too much interest. The major set a gentle hand upon her shoulder and turned her away from their prying eyes. “Mother
