nnabelle opened her eyes and found herself still lying on her back, staring groggily up at the quiet leaves of the oak tree. The wind had died down and the sun had almost disappeared beyond the horizon. How long had she been asleep?
She sat up and reached for the timepiece in her pocket. The gold hands indicated seven-fifteen.
Annabelle scrambled to her feet, packed up her easel and painting, and started down the hill in a hurry with everything in tow. She didn’t want to miss dinner. If she did, everyone would be worried about her, for she never stayed out this late, unless she was painting a sunset.
But she hadn’t been painting a sunset today, had she? No, she had been remembering the past.
She entered the house at the back and climbed the main staircase to her rooms, then rang for her maid, Josephine. Annabelle had already removed her bodice and overskirts herself when Josephine knocked and entered.
“Thank goodness you’re back, Miss Lawson. I was concerned.”
“No need to be. I fell asleep on the hill under the oak tree while the paint was drying.”
Josephine disappeared into the dressing room and quickly returned with Annabelle’s dark green dinner gown. Annabelle stepped into it and turned, so Josephine could fasten it in the back.
“Your hair,” her maid said, looking flustered.
Annabelle started pulling the pins out herself, while Josephine fastened the last few hooks at the back of her dress.
A minute later Annabelle was sitting in front of her mirror, watching her maid pull her troublesome, frizzy hair into a knot on top of her head.
“The green earrings?” Josephine asked.
“Yes.”
Josephine was passing them to her when the loud dinner gong rang, signaling the family to gather in the drawing room. Annabelle and Josephine exchanged a relieved glance. They had been very fast and efficient.
Rising from the chair, Annabelle smoothed out her skirts, while Josephine picked up Annabelle’s afternoon dress, which was draped over the foot of the bed.
“Wait!” Annabelle said, hurrying to reach into the pocket of the skirt before Josephine took it away. “I need something.” She reached in for the folded letter, then managed to feign a smile. “You can have it now.”
As soon as Josephine was gone, Annabelle took the tiny key out of the locket around her neck and walked to her desk. She sat down and pulled her miniature cedar chest out of the top drawer, set it in front of her on the desktop and inserted the key into the lock. When the box clicked open, she raised the lid and stared at the first letter from Magnus, which she’d received almost two weeks ago.
She touched a finger to her lips.
He had written to tell her he’d returned to London and purchased a gallery, and that he wished to meet with her. Naturally, she had not replied, for she’d been in shock, for one thing. Secondly, she had not wished to meet with him, just as she did not wish to meet with him now.
A knock sounded at her door and she jumped, then slammed the box shut, for she had not told anyone about the letters. Though she certainly should have. She should have informed Whitby. The fact that she had not done so had been troubling her for two weeks. It was not like her to keep things from her brother. But so many things about Magnus were secreted away in her heart. So much of what had happened that summer she would never share with anyone.
“Who is it?” she asked.
“It’s Lily.”
Annabelle quickly shoved the box back into her desk drawer and shut it. “Come in!”
The door swung open and her brother’s wife entered with a hand on her swollen belly, for she was due to deliver her fifth child in the next few weeks. “I saw you coming in late, and wondered if you needed any help preparing for dinner.”
“Oh, no, I’m fine,” Annabelle replied, her hands fidgeting on the desk. “Josephine was very astute. She had my gown ready and waiting for me.”
Lily approached and rested a hand on the corner
She sat up and reached for the timepiece in her pocket. The gold hands indicated seven-fifteen.
Annabelle scrambled to her feet, packed up her easel and painting, and started down the hill in a hurry with everything in tow. She didn’t want to miss dinner. If she did, everyone would be worried about her, for she never stayed out this late, unless she was painting a sunset.
But she hadn’t been painting a sunset today, had she? No, she had been remembering the past.
She entered the house at the back and climbed the main staircase to her rooms, then rang for her maid, Josephine. Annabelle had already removed her bodice and overskirts herself when Josephine knocked and entered.
“Thank goodness you’re back, Miss Lawson. I was concerned.”
“No need to be. I fell asleep on the hill under the oak tree while the paint was drying.”
Josephine disappeared into the dressing room and quickly returned with Annabelle’s dark green dinner gown. Annabelle stepped into it and turned, so Josephine could fasten it in the back.
“Your hair,” her maid said, looking flustered.
Annabelle started pulling the pins out herself, while Josephine fastened the last few hooks at the back of her dress.
A minute later Annabelle was sitting in front of her mirror, watching her maid pull her troublesome, frizzy hair into a knot on top of her head.
“The green earrings?” Josephine asked.
“Yes.”
Josephine was passing them to her when the loud dinner gong rang, signaling the family to gather in the drawing room. Annabelle and Josephine exchanged a relieved glance. They had been very fast and efficient.
Rising from the chair, Annabelle smoothed out her skirts, while Josephine picked up Annabelle’s afternoon dress, which was draped over the foot of the bed.
“Wait!” Annabelle said, hurrying to reach into the pocket of the skirt before Josephine took it away. “I need something.” She reached in for the folded letter, then managed to feign a smile. “You can have it now.”
As soon as Josephine was gone, Annabelle took the tiny key out of the locket around her neck and walked to her desk. She sat down and pulled her miniature cedar chest out of the top drawer, set it in front of her on the desktop and inserted the key into the lock. When the box clicked open, she raised the lid and stared at the first letter from Magnus, which she’d received almost two weeks ago.
She touched a finger to her lips.
He had written to tell her he’d returned to London and purchased a gallery, and that he wished to meet with her. Naturally, she had not replied, for she’d been in shock, for one thing. Secondly, she had not wished to meet with him, just as she did not wish to meet with him now.
A knock sounded at her door and she jumped, then slammed the box shut, for she had not told anyone about the letters. Though she certainly should have. She should have informed Whitby. The fact that she had not done so had been troubling her for two weeks. It was not like her to keep things from her brother. But so many things about Magnus were secreted away in her heart. So much of what had happened that summer she would never share with anyone.
“Who is it?” she asked.
“It’s Lily.”
Annabelle quickly shoved the box back into her desk drawer and shut it. “Come in!”
The door swung open and her brother’s wife entered with a hand on her swollen belly, for she was due to deliver her fifth child in the next few weeks. “I saw you coming in late, and wondered if you needed any help preparing for dinner.”
“Oh, no, I’m fine,” Annabelle replied, her hands fidgeting on the desk. “Josephine was very astute. She had my gown ready and waiting for me.”
Lily approached and rested a hand on the corner
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