Page 209 of Snowbound Surrender

Her eyes snapped open. “Meredith?”

Something inside her, call it nature, a primal instinct, forced her to fully awake as her child said her name. Meredith was standing beside the bed, a concerned look across her face.

“What is wrong?” Anne forced herself to sit up, her head aching and heavy. “Are you hurt, are you injured?”

Meredith shook her head. She was wearing her favourite gown and her hair had been pinned up. The childishness of her features had completely gone with the adult coiffure.

“Nothing is wrong, Anne,” Meredith whispered. She seemed to know that Anne’s head hurt, keeping her voice low. “It is almost luncheon, and you did not rise for breakfast. Are you feeling unwell?”

Anne’s gaze shifted from her daughter to the clock over the mantlepiece. It was indeed almost one o’clock in the afternoon. Sunlight streamed around the drawn curtains, weak winter sun with no heat in it.

“Luncheon?”

Meredith nodded. Anne attempted to collect her thoughts, but they were so painful and so scattered that it seemed impossible to keep track of them all.

Had she made a mistake by going to Maxim’s bed chamber last night? But she could never have proceeded with the marriage – the sham marriage, she thought bitterly – without knowing the truth about those medals.

If only she had never read that newspaper. Had she made a huge mistake, thrown away the only chance she may have for happiness?

But had she not already started to suspect that there was something more going on that he was not telling her? How could she trust a gentleman who had not told her the truth…or at least the whole truth, about his past?

She would never have had a prickle of doubt, never confronted him, and never told him the truth about Meredith.

She looked at her daughter. She had not been truthful with Maxim, that was true, but how could she? Who would understand?

And of course, she had been proven right in the end. Maxim had not understood, and now there would be no wedding.

“Anne?”

Anne forced herself to focus. Meredith needed her, an anxious frown across her face.

“Please do not concern yourself,” she said quietly, taking Meredith’s hand and squeezing it. “I am quite well but I…I did not sleep well last night. I chose to stay in bed which was rather lazy of me, I admit. Nothing is wrong. I may just spend the day in bed, to recover.”

She had intended her words to calm that puckered frown, but if anything, they had the opposite effect.

“But you are supposed to be getting married this afternoon,” Meredith said in a rush. “Where is Maxim? No one has seen him, and you are sick.”

No matter how hard she tried, Anne could not prevent her heart from sinking. He had warned her, right in that conversation when they had organised this sham of an engagement. Had he not said that he would disappear?

“Miss Marsh can inform me on Christmas Eve whether she wishes to go ahead with the marriage. If not, I will disappear to France the next morning – I am due to see some friends there in any event – and Miss Marsh will be a jilted, sorrowful figure. One to claim society’s pity, not scandal.”

It was hardly a surprise, but Anne could not have predicted the heaviness of her disappointment. It consumed her, like a fire, taking all joy and hope from her soul.

She swallowed. The last thing she needed was for Meredith to see just how upset she was – but she was not a child anymore, not really. She deserved the truth.

Some of it.

“I am sorry to say that the wedding will not be happening this afternoon,” she said gently. “I…I discussed it with Maxim last night, and we decided that it was not the best thing for us.”

Meredith’s frown disappeared, but it was replaced by sorrow. “It is because of me, isn’t it?”

Anne’s heart froze as she tried to say calmly, “Of course not, Merry. Why would you think that?”

Her cheeks pinked as she said, “Well, because…because I am your daughter, and he did not approve, did he?”

If the entire bed had fallen over a cliff, Anne would not have felt any more astonished, fearful, and shocked. Her stomach dropped away as she looked at a child who would spend the rest of her life fighting against the prejudice of others.

How was it possible? They had been so careful, so secret. Neither she nor her father had ever shared the secret with anyone. They had even travelled to France to have the baby, when her mother had been alive. Only a month later had they lost her, tragedy amongst new life.