Her Dark and Dangerous Lord. Anne Herries

Comte looked at Harry. ‘It is settled that you are to marry?’

      ‘With your blessing, sir. I would have taken Claire to my parents had this news not come.’

      ‘You must look for your sister,’ the Comte told him, agreeing with his daughter. ‘I shall take Claire to England and we shall break the news to Lord Melford. It will be much better if your family know that you are searching for Anne, Harry. Claire and I will wait at Melford for your return, whatever the news.’

      Harry’s eyes dwelled on Claire’s sweet face. ‘You will not mind if I leave you now?’

      ‘I love you and I know what Anne means to you,’ Claire told him. ‘It may come to nothing, but you have something now. Someone may know the people who took Anne. Clearly they must have meant to care for her or the ship’s captain would have abandoned her to the nuns as soon as they reached land.’

      Harry took her hand and kissed it. ‘I love you,’ he said. ‘It is hardly fair that I should leave you, having just asked you to wed me, but you are right. I must find Anne if I can, but in time I shall come to England to find you, and God willing I shall bring my sister with me…’

      Anne looked at herself in the small hand mirror Sulina had brought her. Her hair was flowing loose over her shoulders, kept in place by a small cap of black velvet framed with gold threads. Her gown was also fashioned of some soft black cloth, and the hanging sleeves were embroidered with beads and gold thread. It suited her well enough, though had she chosen for herself she would have picked green or blue. However, the gown had been brought for her and was a gift from the lord of this manor. Anne was grateful for his generosity and had made no complaint when she was given the gown to wear. She knew it had not been made for her, because Sulina had altered it to fit her. Anne was not certain whether it had belonged to Lord de Montfort’s mistress or was simply something he had bought from a dealer in such things.

      ‘My lord is waiting below,’ Sulina told her with a faint smile. ‘He has asked every day if you were ready to go down. I think he is impatient to see you, lady.’

      ‘He might have come to visit me and asked for himself,’ Anne said, feeling slightly aggrieved that he had not done so.

      ‘It would not have been fitting once you had recovered your senses,’ Sulina told her. ‘What would your family think if it became known that Lord Montfort had frequented your bedchamber while you lay recovering from your illness?’

      ‘I do not know if I have a family,’ Anne reminded her. ‘But I dare say you are right. I cannot think that my mother would approve—if she is still living.’ Her eyes were sad as she thought of the woman she could not remember. Something told her that her mother had loved her and that she had been happy at home.

      She followed Sulina down the wide staircase to the hall below. The chateau was old, the walls built of a honey-coloured stone hung with silk tapestries, and the ceilings were high. The floors were made of wood on the upper floor, covered in places with brightly coloured rugs and carpets that had an eastern look, but on the ground floor they were tiled with marble. Most of the furniture was heavily carved, dark wood that also had an eastern look. Anne knew that this house was very different to the one she had been raised in, though she could not remember her home, but everything here was strange, unusual. She did not think it was the style that would be normally found on French soil, though she could not know that for certain. Sometimes now she saw a picture of a house set in a pleasant valley, but it was only in brief flashes and she had not mentioned it to anyone. She thought that perhaps the house had been her home, but as she did not know where it was to be found that did not help her to remember.

      As she entered the large hall, which was the heart of the chateau, she saw two men standing together. They turned their heads as she approached. Anne caught her breath, for one of them had skin the colour of polished walnut and the bottom of his face was scarred dreadfully, the skin puckered and discoloured as though he had been burned, his mouth twisted to one side. His dark eyes went over her, his gaze narrowed and thoughtful. Anne felt nothing but pity for him, because she sensed that at one time in his life he had suffered terribly.

      ‘Ah, the lady Anne,’ Stefan said, inclining his head in welcome. ‘We are glad that you feel well enough to join us at last. This is Hassan, the best friend a man could have. He helped me to pull you from the sea.’

      Anne dipped a curtsy to them. ‘Sir, I must thank you as I have thanked others who helped me.’

      ‘You are welcome, lady,’ Hassan said. There was a slightly puzzled look in his eyes. ‘Forgive me, but as you came towards us I thought that I had seen you before this day.’

      Stefan stared at him. ‘You do not speak of when we pulled her from the water. Can you recall where you saw Anne the first time?’ He too had felt that he might have seen her, but could not recall when or where.

      Hassan’s eyes were on her. Anne shivered, feeling a mixture of fear and excitement as she anticipated his reply, but he shook his head and she was disappointed.

      ‘Forgive me, but I do not remember where I saw you. There was something in the way you walked and held yourself, but the memory is not strong. At the moment it eludes me, but it may yet return.’

      Stefan looked thoughtful. If he had seen her, it must have been brief and at a time when he was not taking much notice, for she was too beautiful to have slipped his mind had he ever spoken to her.

      ‘Memory is a strange thing; it eludes us when we try to recall something and returns when we least expect it. If you have truly seen Anne before, it will come to you, Hassan.’

      ‘Yes, perhaps,’ Hassan replied. ‘I should leave if I am to reach my destination before nightfall. I wish you well, lady.’

      ‘Thank you…’ Anne watched as he walked from them. She turned to look at Lord de Montfort. ‘It would be a strange coincidence if we had met before you rescued me, though I doubt it can be so, for I do not think I have been to France before this time. Everything here is strange to me.’

      ‘You are in Normandy, and my home contains many things I have collected in other lands,’ Stefan said. ‘Why are you so sure that you had not been to France before this?’

      ‘I do not know. Sometimes I seem to know things instinctively, without truly remembering, but you told me yourself that I speak English better than French.’

      ‘Yes, that is true. Hassan might have seen you recently, for we were returning from a visit to England when we found you. He is very observant and it is possible he saw you only briefly.’ Possible that he had seen her too—but where?

      ‘I thought your ship was travelling along the French coast?’

      ‘We were swept down the coast by the fierce winds and decided to run before them until we found a sheltered cove. Had we made land before the storm hit, we should not have been there that morning.’

      ‘I was more fortunate than I knew,’ Anne said and shivered. ‘Had you not seen me…’

      ‘You were close to death. Another hour or two…’ Stefan shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘Who knows why these things happen?’

      ‘Ali would say it was as Allah wills,’ Anne said and her eyes sparkled with mischief. In that moment the shadows fell away from her and she was beautiful, a spirited girl whose smile held enchantment. The change was so marked that it made Stefan catch his breath.

      He laughed huskily. ‘I see you have recovered your spirit, whatever else you lack, my lady.’ His eyes went over her with a hint of disapproval. ‘That gown does not do you justice, Anne. It was found in a chest in the storeroom and must have belonged to the late lady of the manor, but all her gowns were black, for I believe she was widowed many years. We must buy some silk and have something new made for you. I believe that a fair has come to a town near by. If you feel well enough on the morrow, we could go there together and choose something from the merchants.’

      Anne was pleased that the gown had not belonged to his mistress, though she did not know why