Page 3 of Winterset

“Miss.” He gave her a final nod, then turned and walked away.

Anna gave the reins a brisk slap, and the horse started off smartly. She drove along the familiar curving driveway, finally emerging onto the road that led to the village. She always enjoyed the outdoors, and today, with the June sun spilling its gentle heat over her and the blooming rhododendrons, it was a pleasure simply to drive along, looking out over the countryside. She belonged here. The land was as familiar and beloved as her own house, and sometimes, when she was inclined to feel a little self-pity, thinking of things that might have been, she reminded herself how much she had here, of the beauty that lay just outside her doorstep and the people who were part of her life.

She drove first to the tenant’s house, where she handed over one of Cook’s pies and dutifully admired the squalling newborn. Then she drove on to the vicarage, which lay beside the brown stone church.

She saw as she drew up that the squire’s carriage was already there, which meant that Mrs. Bennett must be calling on the vicar’s wife, too, and for an instant Anna was tempted to turn around and leave. However, she knew that she could not. She might have been spotted by one of the women through the front windows of the house, and such a departure would, of course, be quite rude. So she got down from her trap, tying the horse to the low fence in front of the vicarage, and picked up the remaining pie, telling herself that she would simply plead some excuse to make the visit as short as was polite.

The maid took the pie from Anna with a curtsey and ushered her into the parlor, where she found not only Mrs. Bennett and Mrs. Burroughs, the vicar’s wife, but also the village doctor, as well. Dr. Felton rose to his feet with such a bright smile on his face when Anna entered that she could only assume that he had the same reaction to Mrs. Bennett’s conversation as Anna did.

“Miss Holcomb, what a fortunate surprise,” he said, crossing the room to bow over her hand. Unmarried and in his late thirties, Martin Felton was part of the small social circle in which Anna and her brother moved. She saw him frequently at parties and assemblies, and while he was not exactly someone she would classify as her friend, he was a good acquaintance.

“Oh, yes, Miss Holcomb, it’s so delightful to see you.” Mrs. Burroughs, a small, fluttery woman, jumped up and rushed forward to take Anna’s hands. “How kind of you to come. And bringing one of your cook’s delicious pies, as well. So considerate of you.” She admired the pie in the maid’s hands and fussed over Anna, taking her arm and leading her to the sofa, sitting down beside her.

Mrs. Bennett, who was as plump as her friend was thin, joined her in an effusive greeting. “Anna, so nice to see you. How is your brother, my dear? Such a fine young man, I always say. Wasn’t I just saying to you the other day, Rachel, that Sir Christopher was the very model of a gentleman?”

“Oh, yes, of course, I’m sure. Such a gentleman,” Mrs. Burroughs agreed.

“You must scold him for not coming with you today. We do so enjoy seeing him.”

“I fear he is rather busy today with the estate manager.”

“Oh, yes, such a responsible young man he is. I could only wish my Miles showed the same sort of interest in our estate, but, of course, he is not inclined toward matters of business. He is more of a scholar, I fear, forever locking himself in his room with his books.”

Anna, having conversed with the young man on a few occasions, would scarcely have termed him scholarly, but she made no comment. Indeed, when Mrs. Bennett was talking, there was rarely any room to make a comment, even if one should be so inclined.

“Of course, I fear that Miles is feeling a trifle under the weather,” Mrs. Bennett sailed on. “I hope he hasn’t caught a chill. He got caught in the rain the other day. I told him to take an umbrella before he went out for his walk, but you know the young….” She let out a titter and covered her mouth. “Oh, he would be furious if he heard me say that. He said to me only yesterday, ‘Mother, I am scarcely young. I am all of twenty and one!’ And, of course, he is, but still, it seems so young to me. Probably not to you, of course, as you are barely more than a child yourself.”

“Hardly that, I am afraid, ma’am,” Anna demurred.

Somewhat to Anna’s surprise, the woman did not pursue the subject of her son’s ill health any further than that. Nor did she even remark upon her daughter. Such a departure from Mrs. Bennett’s normal behavior would have made Anna wonder what was the matter with the woman, but there was an air of suppressed excitement in her manner, a bright gleam in her eye, that to Anna, judging from past experiences, meant that the squire’s wife was bursting with some prime bit of gossip.

Anna glanced over at her hostess and saw that Mrs. Burroughs’ cheeks were also faintly flushed, her eyes bright. What on earth was going on?

As if she could hold it in no longer, Mrs. Bennett said in a rush, “Have you heard the news, Miss Holcomb? So very exciting…”

“No, I am afraid that I have heard nothing exciting.” Anna looked at the doctor, and he shrugged imperceptibly, as though he had no idea what was going on, either.

“Well, the squire told me—and I am certain that he heard it directly from Mr. Norton, who is, of course, his solicitor—Reed Moreland is returning to Winterset!”

Mrs. Bennett paused, looking at Anna expectantly. Anna could do nothing but stare blankly at the woman. Reed Moreland! She felt as if her insides had suddenly fallen down to her knees.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” the vicar’s wife gushed.

“Yes,” Anna managed to say through bloodless lips. “Yes, of course.”

“Such a gentleman of refinement,” Mrs. Burroughs went on happily. “So knowledgeable, so well bred. Everything one would expect from the son of a duke.”

“But not at all proud,” Mrs. Bennett stuck in.

“Oh, no, indeed, you are absolutely right,” her friend agreed. “Not proud at all, but not overly friendly, either.”

“Indeed, just perfect.”

“A paragon, it would seem,” Dr. Felton put in, a faint note of amusement in his voice.

“You are absolutely right.” Mrs. Bennett, incapable of irony, nodded her head. “Did you meet him when he was here before, Dr. Felton?”

“I was introduced to him at a party, I believe. He seemed a pleasant-enough gentleman.”