Page 66 of A Countess of Convenience

“Why has he not arrived yet, John? He said he would be here by ten o’clock.” Judith didn’t know what to do with herself. She wanted to fly to pieces, but the solicitor could be here any minute and she must be ready. “He didn’t say what the good news was, John?”

“No, my dear, you have read the note yourself. Judith, please sit down. You will wear yourself out with this pacing.”

“I cannot sit still, John. You do think it’s the petition, don’t you?” She turned again and walked toward the door. “Not something about Lord Downing?”

As she passed by the sofa, John grabbed her wrist and pulled her down next to him. “You will exhaust me and yourself. Sit just long enough to catch your breath, love. It will do you no good if you are too weak to see Anna if the petition is granted.”

“Oh, John.” She leaned against the broad, comforting chest. “What if the petition does give me leave to see her? When can we go?”

“I don’t see why we can’t—”

Barr entered and bowed. “Mr. Blanchard, my lord.”

Judith jumped up, John right behind her as the little solicitor came forward, a tentative smile on his face.

“Lord Haxby, Lady Haxby, good morning.”

“Good morning.” John returned the pleasantry; Judith’s mouth had dried so she couldn’t speak. “What can you tell us, Blanchard?”

The stout man with a well-kept wig smiled, and Judith could breathe again. “I had to wait until this morning to receive this copy of the order giving Lady Haxby visitation rights to her daughter.” He handed the piece of paper to John, who handed it directly to her.

With trembling hands, she took it then had to calm herself before they steadied enough to allow her to read the document. As she did, her heart filled with joy.

“What does it say, my love?” The undertone to John’s voice told her of his excitement as well.

Smiling so widely she could scarcely speak, she said, “I am to be able to visit Anna twice a week, on days to be determined by mutual arrangement with Lord Downing. I may have her for the entirety of each day of visitation, although I must have her back at his residence no later than six o’clock each day.” Tears spilled down her face. “I will be able to see her, John. At last, I will be able to hold my dear girl again.” Happiness filled her, and she smiled at the solicitor. “Mr. Blanchard, I cannot thank you enough for this.”

“It is my pleasure to have been able to serve you, my lady.” The little man beamed at her.

Judith stared at the decree again. She would be able to hold Anna soon, perhaps even— “May we go today, my lord?” She turned to her husband, holding her breath. “Right now? We can call on Lord Downing and make the arrangements. With this,” she waved the decreed, “he cannot deny me any longer.”

He took her hands and squeezed them. “I will tell them to bring the carriage this instant. Thank you again, Blanchard. Barr will show you out.” Together, they left the room, and Judith sank into a chair, still clutching the precious paper, quite beside herself with excitement and longing.

“Come.” John had returned, a huge grin splitting his face. “Get your shawl and hat. We don’t want to keep the horses waiting.”

“You won’t have to tell me a second time.” She stepped into the foyer. “Barr, ask one of the maids to fetch my shawl and reticule please.” She looked at John. “I’m not going to leave this spot until the carriage arrives.”

John chuckled. “I’d hardly leave you here, my love.”

“Well, better safe than sorry.” She embraced him, so happy she could scarcely contain her joy. “I cannot believe it, John. I’m going to see Anna at last.”

When the carriage pulled up before Lord Downing’s townhouse, Judith could hardly wait for it to stop or for John to open the door and help her out. The court’s decree still clutched in her hand—for some reason she’d been afraid to put it down, perhaps believing it would disappear into the air if she did—she grasped John’s hand with her other one, and together they mounted the steps to the great black door.

Judith stared at the door, almost not comprehending what she saw, or did not see. “John…the knocker is gone.”

“So it is. Damn.” He dropped her arm and pounded on the door. “Hello! Hello in the house!” He continued knocking while Judith peered around.

The house seemed deathly quiet, and a foreboding gripped her. “Try the servant’s entrance.”

No sooner were the words out of her mouth than he bounded down the front steps then continued down to the servant’s entrance under the steps. Furious rapping ensued, but no one emerged. He returned to the sidewalk and motioned for her to come down from the stoop. She was loath to leave. Anna might yet be there. She turned back to the now-ominous looking door and struck it with the flat of her hand until it tingled. Pressing her ear against the door only emphasized the silence within. She leaned against the malevolent entry and cried.

“Judith, come, my dear.” Her husband appeared by her side, put his arm around her, and took her back to the carriage.

“We must go after them, John.” Wiping her streaming eyes with a handkerchief her husband provided, Judith kept staring at the now-bedraggled visitation decree. “I am allowed to see her now. I must see her.”

“Love, we don’t know where they’ve gone.”

“Back to Wiltshire, surely.” Where else would they go?