The Raven Prince (Princes #1)(22)

Pearl still looked uncertain, so Anna added, “You may go any time you like. I sent a letter to your sister. Perhaps she’ll arrive soon.”

“That’s right.” Pearl seemed relieved. “I remember giving you her direction.”

Anna stood. “Try not to worry; just sleep well.”

“Aye.” Pearl’s brow was still wrinkled.

Anna sighed. “Good night.”

“ ’Night, ma’am.”

Anna carried the bowl of gruel and the spoon back down the stairs and rinsed them out. It was quite dark by the time she retired to a small pallet made up in her mother-in-law’s room.

She slept dreamlessly and didn’t wake until Mother Wren gently shook her shoulder. “Anna. You had better get up, dear, if you’re to get to Ravenhill on time.”

Only then did it occur to Anna to wonder what the earl would think of her patient.

MONDAY MORNING, ANNA entered the Abbey library warily. She’d walked all the way from her cottage dreading the confrontation with Lord Swartingham, hoping against hope that he’d be more reasonable than the doctor had. However, the earl seemed just as usual—rumpled and grumpy with his hair and neckcloth askew. He greeted her by growling that he had found an error on one of the pages she had transcribed the day before. Anna breathed a grateful sigh of relief and settled down to work.

After luncheon, however, her luck ran out.

Lord Swartingham had made a short trip into town to consult with the vicar about helping to finance a renovation of the apse. His return was heralded by the front door crashing against the wall.

“MRS. WREN!”

Anna winced at the bellow and the subsequent slamming of the door. The dog by the fire lifted his head.

“Damnation! Where is the woman?”

Anna rolled her eyes. She was in the library where she always could be found. Where did he think she might be?

Heavy-booted feet stomped across the hall; then the earl’s tall form darkened the doorway. “What’s this I hear about an unsuitable refugee at your home, Mrs. Wren? The doctor was at great pains to tell me of your folly.” He stalked over to the rosewood desk and braced his arms in front of her.

Anna lifted her chin and attempted to look down her nose at him, no small feat since he was employing his great height to tower over her. “I found an unfortunate person in need of help, my lord, and, naturally, brought her to my home so that I might nurse her back to health.”

He scowled. “An unfortunate bawd, you mean. Are you insane?”

He was far more angry than she had anticipated. “Her name is Pearl.”

“Oh, fine.” He pushed away from her desk forcefully. “You are on intimate terms with the creature.”

“I only wish to point out that she is a woman, not a creature.”

“Semantics.” The earl waved a dismissive hand. “Have you no care for your reputation?”

“My reputation is hardly the point.”

“Hardly the point? Hardly the point?” He swung around violently and began pacing the carpet in front of her desk.

The dog laid back his ears and lowered his head, following his master’s movements with his eyes.

“I wish you wouldn’t parrot my words,” Anna muttered. She could feel a flush creeping up her cheeks, and she wished she could control it. She didn’t want to appear weak before him.

The earl, at the farther end of his track, seemed not to hear her reply. “Your reputation is the only point. You are supposed to be a respectable woman. A slip like this could paint you blacker than a crow.”

Really! Anna straightened at her desk. “Are you questioning my reputation, Lord Swartingham?”

He stopped dead and turned an outraged face toward her. “Don’t be a ninny. Of course I’m not questioning your reputation.”

“Aren’t you?”

“Ha! I—”

But Anna rode over him. “If I am a respectable woman, surely you can trust my good sense.” She could feel her own anger rising, a great pressure inside her head threatening to escape. “As a respectable lady, I consider it my duty to help those less fortunate than I.”

“Don’t use sophistry with me.” He pointed a finger at her from across the room. “Your position in the village will be ruined if you continue this course.”

“I may come into some criticism”—she folded her arms—“but I hardly think I’ll be ruined by an act of Christian charity.”

The earl made an inelegant sound. “The Christians in the village will be the first to pillory you.”

“I—”

“You are extremely vulnerable. A young, attractive widow—”

“Working for a single man,” Anna pointed out sweetly. “Obviously, my virtue is in imminent peril.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“No, but others have.”

“That is exactly what I mean,” he shouted, apparently under the impression that if he bellowed loud enough, it would make his point. “You cannot associate with this woman!”

This was simply too much. Anna’s eyes narrowed. “I cannot associate with her?”

He crossed his arms on his chest. “Exactly—”

“I cannot associate with her?” she repeated over him, this time more loudly.