“Do not speak to me now.” Barbara’s order was clear. Silence fell between them as they wound their way through the house and out of the building. They hastened so quickly down the front steps toward the carriage that awaited them on the driveway that Annie had to practically run to keep up with her mother.
Only when they reached the carriage did Barbara release her arm, practically flinging Annie away from her. “Can you deny it?” she asked.
“Deny what?” Annie turned an accusing glare on Mr Knight, who joined them, shaking his head.
“I had to tell her, Miss Storey. She is your mother. She is the only one who can save you from the mistake you have made.”
Annie raised her hands and masked her face, hiding from the awfulness of the moment. She didn’t want to raise her eyes to meet her mother’s, scared of the judgement she would see there again.
“Fortunately, Annie, it seems you still have some friends who are eager to protect you from Lord Yeatman. I thank him for it, though even I will admit I do not approve of his methods.” Her words made Annie look up, at last, to see she was glaring at Mr Knight too. “You were also alone with my daughter unchaperoned, before you attempt to deny such a thing occurred.”
“I did it out of concern for her.”
“For that, I thank you, but we do not need your service anymore tonight. Now, please leave us.” Barbara’s words were quickly adhered to.
Mr Knight bowed to the two of them, his eyes lingering on Annie for a few seconds more. She could not offer him a reassuring smile or anything of the sort. Her fury was too great, making her hands tremble.
He has interfered with my life.
“In.” Barbara pointed into the carriage.
Annie stepped inside, aware that Barbara followed her in as hastily as she could. The door was slammed shut, and the orders quickly given. Once the carriage had set off again, riding at a mad pace down the road, Barbara turned an accusing glare on Annie, her expression visible in the orange light from the lantern that swung above them, attached to the roof of the carriage.
“Lord Yeatman?” she asked wildly. “Lord Yeatman!? You ruin your own name, and for what? To spend a few stolen minutes with a man of his ilk?”
“Mother, it is not as you think it is—”
“Oh, I suppose you were at bible study with the man, were you? Or exchanging literary readings? I am no fool, Annie. Do me the credit of not taking me for one. If you were alone with this man, then I know exactly what passed between you.” The anger was so great on her face that Annie sat back, feeling her body quivering.
I would not undo it. For all the world, I would not be without the smiles I have enjoyed these last few weeks.
“Good lord, I do not know whether to be thankful to Mr Knight or angrier still. I will choose to be the former,” Barbara said, her tone still firm. “Know this, Annie, from now on, things must change. Your connection with Lord Yeatman is no more.”
“Mother! We cannot be controlled.”
“Controlled? Pah! Clearly. I can not even encourage you to take care of your good name anymore. That is apparent, for you so wilfully are trying to destroy it, all on your own. If anyone hears of what has passed tonight....” She paused, grimacing as if she was about to be sick. “We are fortunate Mr Knight discovered the truth before another could. Let it all be at an end now.”
“What does that mean?” Annie asked, her voice shaking as she balled her hands together into fists, digging ridges into her skin.
“It means you will never see Lord Yeatman again.”