“Will you at least meet him?” the earl asked with a bit of a plaintive tone. At least he was asking and not demanding as her father would have done. “This entire event is to support you.”
“Here I thought it was also to celebrate Sandon’s homecoming,” she said drily. “I’ve already met Sir Algernon. But to appease you, I will accompany you to speak with him.”
“And ride to the house with him,” the earl said with a smile.
“Alone? I think not.” It was one thing to spend time alone with Rafe—which she would eagerly do—but she had no desire to risk what remained of her reputation with Sir Algernon. Actually, that wasn’t the issue. Her reputation was quite spoiled due to Gilbert. She simply didn’t want to be alone with Sir Algernon.
“Oh, here you are, Anne.” Jane touched Anne’s shoulder from behind.
Anne wanted to hug her with relief. “Yes.” She gave Jane a pleading look and darted her eyes toward her godfather.
A befuddled shadow swept across Jane’s brow, but then she gave an infinitesimal nod. “Shall we go to the house before it rains again?”
“Indeed.” Anne gave the earl an apologetic smile and accompanied her sister and Anthony to the coach. “Thank you,” she said as soon as they were out of Stone’s earshot.
“Where were you during the downpour?” Jane asked. “I couldn’t find you in the temple. I was worried.”
“There is a room beneath one of the staircases. I took shelter there.”
“With Mr. Bowles?” Jane asked.
“And my godfather.” Eventually. She didn’t want to discuss what had really happened—that she’d briefly been alone with Rafe—at least not in front of Anthony.
“Well, I’m glad you were able to stay mostly dry. Anthony and I wondered if we should just return to London. We both got a bit damp.”
Anne wasn’t ready to leave. She’d barely spent any time with Rafe, and she hadn’t yet convinced him they should continue their friendship. They’d been able to sneak away together for four blissful afternoons. Surely they could do so again, particularly when the Season ended. “Can we please stay?”
Jane looked to Anthony who shrugged and said, “I have no preference.”
“Then we’ll stay,” Jane said. “But let’s get to the house before we’re drenched once more.”
Anne smiled, eager to find Rafe and convince him they really could be friends.
Chapter 4
The coaches arrived en masse in the drive, and guests hurried inside as another dark cloud approached. Except Rafe. He hung back, his gaze fixed on the façade. Crafted of light stone with a tall, imposing Palladian entry, the house loomed large, making his skin prick with awareness.
He was one of the last to move inside, having lost sight of his sister and Harry. Not that he minded. Seeing the folly had provoked a feeling of familiarity that was even more intense here. He supposed that made sense because he would have certainly visited the house since he’d been to the folly.
It was more than that, however. He knew this house. When he walked inside, the entry hall would be round, and if he walked straight through it, he’d find himself in a grand hall with a staircase climbing the left side up to a gallery divided by arches from the space looking down at the hall below.
Taking a shallow breath, he walked up the steps to the open door and moved inside. His movements felt stilted and uncertain, as if he wasn’t entirely in command of himself.
Get hold of yourself.
But then he froze. The entry hall was precisely as he’d imagined it.
Of course it is, you dolt. You’ve been here before.
Why, then, was he reacting in this manner? It was almost as if he were moving in a dream.
Without thought, he strode through the entry hall and into the staircase hall. Again, he’d gotten every detail just right. His gaze lifted and fixed on the gallery above. He knew what he’d find up there…
“Rafe?”
He heard his name but didn’t turn.
Selina’s hand touched his arm. “Rafe?”
“I remember this, Lina. Before I walked into the house, I could describe the entry hall, this staircase. Up there is a gallery with portraits.” He started toward the stairs, stopping at the first step and turning his head to look at her. “Are you coming?”
She hurried to follow him. “What does this mean?”
“I’m not sure. But I think we did more than visit Ivy Grove.”
Selina halted when they reached the top, and he looked back at her. She’d gone a bit pale.
He reached for her hand and gave her a reassuring nod. Together, they walked through one of the archways that separated the gallery from the area overlooking the hall below. At one end there was a chaise, and at the other, a pair of chairs. “Those chairs aren’t right,” he said. “There wasn’t anything there before.”
“How are you remembering this?” Selina whispered.
He couldn’t answer. Squeezing her hand, he led her toward the chairs, then abruptly stopped in front of the portrait he’d been looking for.
A gasp from Selina seemed to take in all the air around them. “Who is that?” She looked from the portrait to Rafe and back again. “He looks just like you.”
“That’s because he’s our grandfather. We lived here, Lina. I’m certain of it.”
“We lived here?” She looked around, the color still gone from her face.
He felt her shake, her body wilt. Releasing her hand, he clasped his arm about her waist and held her steady against him. “Our nursery was on the second floor. We could see the folly from the window.” He hadn’t remembered any of this before today, but being here, seeing the house, had brought a flood of memories back.
“But this house isn’t new, and our house burned down. Didn’t it?”
“May I help you?” a feminine voice asked pleasantly.
Rafe and Selina turned in unison. From her garb, the woman was a servant. Her mostly silver hair was pulled back severely from her round face and tucked beneath a cap. Her dark eyes settled on them with curiosity. “May I escort you downstairs to the ballroom?” Her mouth turned down, and she stepped toward them. She looked from Rafe to the portrait, her eyes widening, before returning her attention to Rafe.
“It can’t be,” she breathed, moving even closer, and stared up into his face. “You are the mirror image, but—” She blinked then squinted slightly. “Your eye…the orange spot…”
Rafe leaned toward her slightly, widening his eyes. “In my right eye, yes.”
“Dear Lord.” The woman went completely white before crumpling to the floor.
“Bloody hell,” Rafe muttered.
“The chaise,” Selina said, gesturing to the other end of the gallery.
Rafe bent down and swept the woman into his arms, bearing her to the chaise, where he carefully laid her atop the cushions. “She recognized me.”
“I think so.” Selina sounded as breathless as Rafe felt.
The woman’s eyes fluttered open. She blinked at Selina before looking at Rafe. Lifting her hand to her mouth, she shook her head. Tears gathered in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.