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‘Why did you break up? If you don’t mind me asking.’
Jeremy smiled ruefully. ‘In her words, “I didn’t sign up to live with a slob”.’ He glanced around the kitchen. ‘I mean, I know I’m a little messy. But it’s not too bad, is it?’
I gulped. OK, so this was a major issue.
‘It’s a little lived-in. Maybe you could hire a weekly cleaner,’ I said gently (or like five of them and pronto). ‘I can help you arrange it.’
He gave me a lopsided grin, and my heart throbbed for him despite his disgusting kitchen.
‘Thanks, Anna. You’re the best. Drink up, and I’ll show you that artefact. It’s in my bedroom.’
Chapter 16
Maggie required me to run errands in town after I came downstairs, so I was able to vacate the rectory. If she noticed my wild eyes and skittish manner, she didn’t comment on it.
I shrugged on my cloak, grabbed my basket, and practically ran from the house. Halfway down the path, I turned back to look up at Jasper’s window and thought I saw a curtain twitch. Let him watch me, I thought. Hopefully, he felt contrite about scaring me half to death in that uncalled-for manner. Yes, I had stolen his letter, but to scream and rant and pound the wall were the actions of a madman. For the first time, I considered that Jasper might actually be insane. Could I truly be in love with such a person?
My errands in town took no time at all; and though it was freezing cold, I lingered at each, drawing out the time when I would have to go back to the rectory. Any time not spent in the same house as Jasper was preferable.
It was almost dusk when I reluctantly turned to go back. To draw out my journey even further, I decided to take the long way through the woods that bordered the back of the town and eventually joined up with the rectory. I had been through once before, so I knew there was a clear path and that I should easily be able to find my way home.
The fading light did not bother me, and I felt at ease as I trod the well-worn track. The solid oak trees soothed my frazzled nerves, and the late-afternoon sunlight filtered down through the treetops, piercing the cold gloom.
However, underneath the sound of my steps, I became aware of movement—a kind of scuffling noise. I looked behind me but could see nothing. I quickened my pace. There it was again. Something or someone was following me. With my heart racing, I started to run, the basket of food heavy in my arms.
Eventually, though, I could run no further and backed up against a tree, pausing for breath. Let whatever it is attack me, I thought. Better that than being afraid. I stood and waited, hardly daring to breathe.
Then right in front of me, a gypsy man appeared. I felt the urge to scream but bit my tongue. Dusk was now falling, so I could only make out that he wore mud-stained breeches, a dirty waistcoat and shirt and had an old blanket wrapped around him. His face was hidden by a black hat with a wide brim. In his hand, he held a butcher’s knife, which he now brought up towards me. I stiffened in terror.
He spoke not a word but came closer until I felt the warmth of his body. His breath smelt rank and I shrank back as he pulled down the hood of my cloak and proceeded to sniff my hair. I was glad of the ensuing darkness, for it meant he could not see my face properly. Even though he was a gypsy, I still had my pride. If I was about to be ravaged, at least let him think I was beautiful.
At this point, I had not had a good look at my attacker, but now I saw him properly. And the face was not male; it had high cheekbones, rosebud-red lips, and creamy skin streaked with grime. Bright green eyes, fringed with dark lashes, looked into mine with a bitter expression.
‘Miss, please let me go ... Take my money ... some food. Just please let me go. My master will be getting worried and come looking for me.’
The girl spat violently into the ground beside me and stabbed her knife into the tree trunk above my head. She was about my age, but a good deal taller than me.
‘Master, eh? Does he treat you good?’ she snarled, her red lips curling in a sneer. ‘Or does he make you do chores after everyone else has gone to bed? Extra-special chores.’
‘I ... I don’t know what you mean. He’s a good man. He’s a rector.’
The girl laughed uproariously at this. ‘A rector! The worst of all.’
She peered intently into my face, raking my pox scars with her gaze. ‘Be grateful you’ve had that which makes men leave you alone. If I could have anything, I’d wish for the Speckled Monster to claim me.’
I was amazed—trade in her beauty for my ugliness? She must be half crazed with hunger. I thrust my basket at her. ‘Here, take anything you want. Please let me go now.’
The girl searched through the basket. Her mouth quivered as she took out a loaf of freshly baked bread, a soft cheese, and a couple of ripe apples. She looked at me, and her expression softened.
‘Thank you. I am very hungry. I left my place of employment last week, and I haven’t eaten much, as you can imagine.’
Before I could stop myself, I said, ‘You should come with me back to the rectory. You could have a wash and a proper meal.’
As if realising what a mess she must look and how badly she must smell, the girl self-consciously smoothed her hair and plucked at her shirt.
‘Alright,’ she said suddenly. ‘Yes, I will come. That is very kind of you to offer.’ She put the food back into my basket and lifted it onto her hip. ‘Lead on to the rectory by all means. My name’s Rose, by the way. Rose Baker.’
‘Mercy Graham. Pleased to make your acquaintance.’
