The Cinderella Countess

Belle was heartened by the question. ‘Mary Wollstonecraft. The writer truly believed that feminine imagination could transport women from cruel circumstance.’

Silence abounded, the tick of a clock in the corner all that could be heard in the room.

‘I want to gift this book to you, Miss Staines. I hope we might discuss its possibilities next time I meet with you.’

‘When would that be?’

‘On Wednesday. That should allow you some time to come up with an opinion. An opinion I would value,’ she added, seeing the dark uncertainty in golden eyes.

‘I am not sure.’

‘Eat and read, that is all I ask of you. Food for the body and for the mind.’

‘How do you know my brother, the Earl of Thornton?’

‘I don’t, really.’

‘Where did you meet him?’

‘He came to my house in Whitechapel and asked me to visit you.’

‘He paid you?’

‘Very well. More than I am worth, probably.’

‘Are you always so honest?’

‘I find facing life head on is the best possible way of escaping difficulty.’

‘My mother would not think that way.’

‘Sometimes one needs to find confidence inside without being swayed by the influence of others.’

‘You talk like Thorn. Do you know that? He cajoles everyone to do his bidding and he is so clever he can always find the words. Mama says he is like our father, but I do not think this is true. He is a thousand times better.’

‘You love him?’

‘Everyone does. But he is as unhappy as I am.’

Lord, this conversation was going in ways she had no idea of and Annabelle hoped with all her heart that the Earl of Thornton was not outside listening.

‘Why are you so unhappy?’

The least she could do was to bring the focus back on her patient.

‘I have become a mere nothing.’

The heroine’s words from the book. Lady Lucy had been listening after all.

Belle lowered her voice. ‘Motherhood is the furthest thing from nothing that I know of.’

Her patient started at that and blanched noticeably. ‘Have you told him? My brother?’

‘No.’

‘Please do not. I need to think...’

With care Belle placed her hand across thin fingers. ‘I give you my solemn oath that I shan’t speak of your condition to anyone.’

‘Thank you.’

When she looked away Belle rose, tucking the book into the folds of cloth on the bed so that it would not fall.

‘I will see you on Wednesday.’

Outside she found Lytton Staines where she had left him, a drink in hand.

‘I hope this visit will be as successful as your last.’

‘I shall see your sister again next week, your lordship. There will be no payment required.’

‘Miss Smith,’ he said, a sound of exasperation in the word.

‘Yes, your lordship.’

‘I am an earl. Ten pounds is nothing at all to me and I shall pay you exactly what I think you are worth.’

‘Are you made of money, then?’ For a second he stood so close she could feel the whisper of his breath against her cheek as he replied.

‘Yes.’

She almost liked his certainty and his arrogance at that moment. He was a man who valued honesty just as his sister had said and he was kind. Of all the attributes in people, that, to Annabelle, was the most important.

‘I will also accompany you home.’

‘It is not necessary. I am quite capable of getting myself back to Whitechapel.’

‘I know you are, but I would like to see you safe.’

‘Very well.’

She stepped back and he led the way downstairs, the wound on his left temple beginning to discolour. She would have offered to tend it, but something told her that he would decline such an invitation.

A rich man, a brother, a son, an earl. A man with mistresses and with enemies. A man of generosity and cleverness, too. So many things that she now knew of him as well as so many things she did not. She wondered just what he might think of her?

‘Is my sister going to recover, do you think?’

He asked her this as the carriage slid away from the curb. Today it travelled slowly and she thought the Earl had had some hand in that, for he had been speaking with the driver just before they left.