The Raven Prince (Princes #1)(63)
Author: Elizabeth Hoyt

Mr. Hopple trailed after, muttering ineffectual objections.

Anna truly didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She felt a rough, wet tongue on her palm and looked down to see Jock panting by her side.

“Whatever am I to do?”

But the dog only sighed and rolled onto his back so that his paws waved in the air absurdly, which hardly answered her question.

Chapter Nineteen

Aurea wept for all that she had lost, alone there in the endless desert. But after a while, she realized that her only hope was to find her vanished husband and redeem both herself and him. So she set out to search for the Raven Prince. The first year, she hunted for him in the lands to the east. There, strange animals and stranger people lived, but no one had heard of the Raven Prince. The second year, she traveled the lands to the north. There, freezing winds ruled the people from dawn to dusk, but no one had heard of the Raven Prince. The third year, she explored the western lands. There, opulent palaces rose to the sky, but no one had heard of the Raven Prince. The fourth year, she sailed to the farthest south. There, the sun burned too close to the earth, but no one had heard of the Raven Prince….

—from The Raven Prince

“I’m very sorry, dear.” Mother Wren wrung her hands that evening as she watched Anna pack. “But you know how open carriages make my tummy do loops. Just the thought, in fact, is almost enough t-to…”

Anna looked up swiftly. Her mother-in-law had turned a delicate shade of green.

She pushed the older woman into a chair. “Sit down and breathe. Would you like some water?” Anna tried to open the only window in the room, but it was stuck.

Mother Wren pressed a handkerchief to her mouth and closed her eyes. “I’ll be all right in a moment.”

Anna poured some water from a pitcher on the dresser and pressed the glass into her hand. The older woman sipped it, and the color began to return to her cheeks.

“It’s just too bad Coral left so suddenly.” Mother Wren had repeated the sentiment with variations all day.

Anna flattened her mouth.

Fanny had roused them that morning after finding a note in the kitchen. In the note, Coral had simply thanked them for their care. Anna had run upstairs to look in the room where Coral had been sleeping, but it was empty and the bed already made. There she discovered another note pinned to the pillow. Coral asked that Pearl be allowed to stay a while longer, and she’d included gold coins that clinked to the floor when Anna unfolded the note.

Anna had tried to give the money to Pearl, but the other woman had shaken her head and backed away. “No, ma’am. That there money is for you and Mrs. Wren. You’ve been the best friends me and Coral have ever had.”

“But you’ll need it.”

“You and Mrs. Wren need it, too. Besides, I have a position I’ll be starting soon.” She had blushed. “Up at the Abbey.”

Anna shook her head. “I hope Coral is all right. Her bruises had barely begun to fade. Pearl doesn’t even know where she could have gone besides back to London.”

Mother Wren pressed a hand to her forehead. “Had she only waited, she could’ve accompanied you to London.”

“Maybe Pearl wouldn’t mind delaying her work at the Abbey and going with me first.” Anna pulled out a drawer in her dresser and hunted for a pair of stockings without any holes.

“I rather think Pearl will want to stay here.” Her mother-in-law set the glass down carefully on the floor beside her chair. “She seems to have met a gentleman at the Abbey.”

“Really?” Anna half turned, her hands full of stockings. “Who do you think it is? One of the footmen?”

“I don’t know. The day before last, she asked me about the household and who worked there. And then she muttered something about bees.”

“Does the Abbey have a beekeeper?” Anna wrinkled her brow in thought before shaking her head and folding a pair of stockings and placing them in her bag.

“Not that I know of.” Mother Wren shrugged. “In any case, I’m glad Lord Swartingham has decided to take you to London. He’s such a nice man. And he’s interested in you, dear. Perhaps he’ll be asking you an important question there.”

Anna winced. “He’s already asked me to marry him.”

Mother Wren jumped up and let out a squeal worthy of a girl a quarter of her age.

“And I told him no,” Anna finished.

“No?” Her mother-in-law looked aghast.

“No.” She carefully folded a chemise and placed it in her bag.

“Damn Peter!” The other woman stamped her foot.

“Mother!”

“I’m sorry, dear, but you know as well as I do that you wouldn’t have turned that lovely man down if it hadn’t been for my son.”

“I don’t—”

“Now, there’s no use making excuses for him.” Mother Wren actually looked stern. “The good Lord knows I loved Peter. He was my only son, and he was such a darling little boy. But what he did to you in your marriage was just plain unforgivable. My dear husband, had he been alive at the time, would’ve taken a horsewhip to Peter.”

Anna felt tears prick her eyes. “I didn’t realize you knew.”

“I didn’t.” Mother Wren sat down again with a thump. “Not until that last illness. He was feverish and started talking one night when I was up with him. You’d gone to bed already.”

Anna looked down at her hands to hide the fact that tears were blurring her vision. “He was so upset when he found out I couldn’t have babies. I’m sorry for that.”

“I’m sorry, too. Sorry that you couldn’t have children together.”

Anna wiped her face with her palm and heard her mother-in-law’s skirts rustle as she came near.

Plump, warm arms wrapped around her. “But he had you. Do you know how happy I was when Peter married you?”

“Oh, Mother…”

“You were—are—the daughter I never had,” Mother Wren murmured. “You’ve taken care of me all these years. In many ways, I’ve grown closer to you than I ever was to Peter.”

For some reason, this made Anna weep harder.

Mother Wren held her, rocking slightly from side to side. Anna cried great, heaving sobs that tore from her chest and made her head hurt. It was so painful to have this part of her life exposed when she’d kept it hidden away from the light so long. Peter’s infidelity had been her own secret shame to bear and suffer alone. Yet, all this time, Mother Wren had known, and what was more, she did not blame her. Her words felt like an absolution.