The Vigilante

After their first night together, Ann is ravenous. Anne is roused from sleep in the middle of the night, only to find her hand slotted between Ann’s legs, Ann gyrating against her fingers, pushing for purchase. Anne wastes no time joining in.

Cordingley often finds their sheets a rumpled mess, still damp from the night before. She has an idea of what’s going on, but for the sake of Ms. Walker’s reputation, she keeps it to herself. 

Anne builds Ann some crutches that slot under the arm so she can begin to get around on her own. Shortly after putting her tools away, she returns to the bedroom to find Ann waiting patiently on the other side of the room. Her robe is hiked up to the top of her luscious thighs, and her torso is already leaning over Ann’s desk. She looks over her shoulder at Anne, biting her bottom lip. Not even Anne recognizes her own growl.

Sex with Anne is a new high and Ann is addicted. It’s not always soft and tender…sometimes they can’t restrain the caged animal within, and the bruises that appear the next day are evidence of their rough escapades. And it’s not always Anne doing the business. Ann takes the initiative to give rather than just receive, and after a few fumbled attempts, she gets the hang of how Anne likes to be touched and what makes her explode.

They fuck in almost every room of Shibden Hall…that is, when they can get the privacy. The bedroom is certainly quite convenient, sometimes the barn, even the buttery, but that was while Cordingley and Hemingway had gone into Halifax to do the shopping. Anne considers building a small summer cottage deep in the woods, a private place just for them and their desires.

Both women know this pace won’t continue much longer. Ann’s foot is getting stronger every day and soon she’ll be expected to move back to Crownest. They’ll have to work out a visitation schedule before then; Ann can’t seem to last an hour without her hands wandering under Anne’s shirt.

////////////////////////////

One night just before bedtime, Ann is lying on the bed while Anne administers physical therapy on her injured ankle. She gently and slowly rotates the foot in various directions, flexes it back and forth, stretching the muscles and tendons, her eyes glued to Ann’s face for any sign of discomfort.

“Ow..ow,” whispers Ann. “That spot…oooh, that hurts.”

“Hmmm. That’s your Extensor Digitorum Longus. Its primary function is to extend the lateral four toes at the metatarsophalangeal joint.”

Ann looks at her and cocks an eyebrow, her mouth dying to bend into a smile. “Is that so?”

Anne continues the stretches.

“It is. Did you know, sexy Miss Walker, that the foot is a complex mechanical structure of the human body, composed of 33 joints, 26 bones, and more than a hundred muscles, tendons, and ligaments that all work together to bear weight, allow for locomotion, and transmit force? Ah, the human body…it’s such a fascinating thing. And don’t get me started on the brain.”

Ann laughs and smiles up at her.

“What?” says Anne, mystified by Ann’s amusement.

“Nothing. You just have no idea, do you?”

“About what?” Anne slowly pushes on Ann’s toes, flexing her foot backward.

“How adorable you are. How clever and fascinating you are.”

Anne pffts. 

“Don’t ‘pfft’ me!  You are!”

Anne wants to change the subject. She gently rubs Ann’s ankle for a few seconds, then places the foot down on the now-familiar stack of pillows. She lifts the skirt of her robe and bends a leg at the knee to sit down on the bed facing Ann. She pauses a few seconds, then looks up.

“How are you, Ann?  I mean besides the foot. Is everything okay?”

Ann shrugs. “I think so…I mean…I’m eating and sleeping well. My sex life has certainly improved.” The women giggle, but Ann is curious. “Why do you ask?”

“Well…you’ve been talking in your sleep a lot. Saying things like, ‘Don’t touch me’…and ‘I said stop’. Things like that. And I’m wondering if…well, if you’re trying to tell me something, or if it’s related to the attack, or what..”

Ann sits up and grasps Anne’s hands in her own. 

“Oh, Anne, no! No! I love what…” She looks around the bedroom, and even though the door is closed, she whispers. “ …we do. I love how you…(whispers) touch me. Please…don’t think my silly sleep talking is anything more than that…silly talk.”

Anne nods. “It’s just that sometimes talking in our sleep is a way for the brain to work through a problem or a difficult experience. And so I was just wondering…”

“No…no, Anne, I promise.”

Anne pushes the topic further.

“You spoke with the Under Sheriff last week about the attack, maybe that brought up some things for you?”

”Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Have you had any difficult experiences in your past that would cause you to say things like that?” 

Ann has yet to let go of her hands. She swipes her thumbs over Anne’s skin as she thinks. Her thoughts immediately go to the Reverend Ainsworth and the things he used to do to her during visits, either at Crownest or at their home in Northwich. I can’t tell her about that.

Ann lets go of her hands and sits back, picking at her fingers, looking down at her lap. How can she possibly explain this to Anne? She’ll think I’m weak, or worse yet, “man keen”.

Anne notices her change in demeanor. She places her hand over Ann’s thigh and gently nudges her leg.

“Ann? Is there something?”

Ann looks in every direction except toward Anne, anguishing over whether to reveal her deepest, darkest secret.  

Ann whispers, ever so quietly, “If I tell you the truth…you won’t want anything to do with me.”

Anne tilts her head. “What? Don’t be silly. Try me…I might surprise you.”

Ann glances up and takes a deep breath, her voice shaky and barely above a whisper. 

“The Reverend Ainsworth. From over in Northwich. I’m friends…was friends…with his wife. She died several months back in a…a carriage accident. Thomas…her husband…I…I’ve been... indiscreet…with him.”

Anne is dumbfounded to the point where she can barely breath..she certainly can’t speak. Surely this isn’t true. Tears begin to trickle down Ann’s face as she recounts the experience with the abusive reverend. She starts out softly, but then gets keyed up.

“He…he said he was in love with me and that he wanted to marry me, and that his wife wouldn’t live long, and…and I didn’t want to! But I didn’t know how to say ‘no’, and Anne! I never encouraged him! I didn’t want it! I told him I didn’t want to, but he managed the situations so he was alone with me, either at Crownest or when I visited them there at their house, but…he…oh, God, Anne, he’s had…intimate…knowledge..of me.” Ann drops her head and sobs.

Anne is shocked at the news and she can’t hide her anger much longer. She feels her own tears beginning to bubble up.

“Intimate how?” She places her fingertips under Ann’s chin and attempts to get her to lift her head. Ann can’t speak the words, she simply shakes her head away from Anne’s fingers.

“Kissing?” 

Ann nods.

“Did he…touching?” 

Ann hesitates, then nods again. She feels the shame rushing up to her face in the form of a heated blush.

“Have you been…connected?” A single tear drips out of Anne’s eye leaving a trail on her cheek.

Ann barely says it. “Once. And see..this is the thing. He thinks I’m obligated to him, that he owns me. And I don’t know if that’s true.”

Anne’s anger boils over. She repositions herself on the bed, her hands becoming very animated.

“So…wait…hang on. He inflicted himself on you? You visited his house, to visit your friend, his wife. You were under his protection. In his house. And he took advantage of you?!”

Ann’s bottom lip trembles and the tears continue to fall. She can’t look in Anne’s eyes. She can’t face the rejection that’s certain to come.

“Yes,” Ann whispers. “When she went into the next room. But does that not…?”

“No! Good God, Ann! Of course it doesn’t! You’re under no obligation at all! He was married for Heaven’s sake!”

Ann puts her hands up over her ears. “You’re shouting, Anne…you’re cross.”

Anne lunges forward and pulls Ann into a strong hug. She kisses her forehead and slowly rocks side-to-side. She uses her thumbs to brush away Ann’s trail of tears.

“Oh, God, Ann, I’m sorry, I’m not shouting at you, I’m not cross at you! Oh, Ann, believe me…you are not obligated to him. Not in any way, shape or form.” She leans back slightly as Ann continues to talk. She rubs a hand up and down her bicep.

“I’ve never told anyone. He’s threatened to expose me. He said it would reflect just as badly on me as it would on him.” She sniffs and wipes the tears from her face, a fresh sob springs forth. 

“I know you’ll think I’m weak…and stupid. But you see if I’d had someone like you in my life..it wouldn’t have happened, because I’d have had someone to talk to…to tell. Someone who would’ve helpedme.” 

Ann sobs and Anne’s heart breaks for her. She cups Ann’s face in her hands and looks her straight in the eyes. 

“Ann…I would never think of you as stupid or weak. Never. You are nothing like that.” Ann glances up at her then looks back down.

Anne continues with a small smile and a kiss to Ann’s forehead. “You do know that if you’d told me back then…when it happened…I’d have helped you. Don’t you?”

Ann looks up at Anne with a blotched face and tears still brimming in her eyes. “Would you?”

“Without a doubt. Oh, Ann.” She pulls her in again for a hug and rocks her gently.

Ann’s words are muffled against her chest. “He’s still out there…walking around. Probably preying on other young women and having his way with them.”

Anne sneers out of Ann’s vision. She says darkly, “You’ve got nothing more to fear from him. Do you understand?”

Anne’s chest is so warm against her face, and she feels so protected by the hug. “What’re you going to do to him?”

Anne looks off in the distance as she holds Ann against her, wanting to do everything in her power to protect her. 

“I haven’t decided yet.”

Anne pulls back and wipes Ann’s tears again. “It’s been a long day. What do you say we get a good night’s sleep, yes?”

Ann nods and attempts a smile, the rims around her eyes bright pink. Anne stands up and pulls the covers back, then helps Ann get positioned in bed, ensuring her foot is properly elevated and protected. She blows out the candles, then climbs in next to Ann, her arms wrapping around her, pulling her head to her chest. Her head stays there, Anne’s strong heartbeat lulling her to sleep, gently stroking the back of her hair, Ann blowing out small snores. Anne looks out the bedroom window into the night sky and dreams of the things she’d love to do to the Reverend Thomas Ainsworth.

///////////////////////////

A few days later, Ann slowly opens her eyes to find Anne’s side of the bed empty. She knows by now that Anne is an early riser, and Anne knows that Ann is someone who enjoys a good lie in. It’s good to get the important things established in a relationship right away. It is a relationship, right?

The sunlight is streaming in through the window and she feels fantastic. She stretches her arms above her head and yawns. After having told Anne about Reverend Ainsworth, it feels like a giant boulder has been lifted off her shoulders. It’s a new day and she couldn’t be happier. She feels so good, she might even attempt the stairs and join the Lister family for breakfast. 

Anne knocks once, opens the door and comes into the room. She sees the smile on Ann’s face and she can’t suppress the smile from her own lips. “Good morning, Sunshine. How are you?”

Ann reaches out her arms, a silent request for a hug. Anne would never refuse her. She walks toward the bed, then sits down on its side. Ann falls into her arms and Anne holds her tightly, kissing the side of her head. 

“Mmmmmm,” hums Ann. “I could seriously get used to this.” 

Anne’s been having thoughts lately…of Miss Walker living at Shibden. She hasn’t broached the subject yet, only because of the newness of their relationship. It is a relationship, right? They haven’t exactly had the ‘R’ discussion yet, but she assumes they are an item. A good discussion topic for later.

Ann pulls back and smiles at Anne. Anne reaches up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind Ann’s ear. “I thought maybe I could try going down the stairs to breakfast. Has everyone eaten already?”

Anne smiles at her with an “atta girl” showing behind her eyes. “You’re in luck. It’s still early yet and they’re just getting seated. Let’s get you up and get some food in you, you’ll feel brighter.”

With a lot of coaching and assistance from Anne, she makes it all the way down to the first floor and hobbles into the dining room on her homemade crutches. The rest of the family is there to give her a warm reception and words of encouragement. Anne helps her with her chair, then settles in herself. She glances up at her father and notices he has cotton stuffed in his ears. She gestures to him to gain his attention, then points to her own ear.

“Father, you’ve got something in your ears.”

Jeremy scowls. “What?!”

Marian chimes in. “Father, your ears!” Marian turns to Ann, “He’s deaf.”

Anne points again at her own ear. “YOUR EARS!  YOU’VE GOT SOMETHING…” She huffs, stands up and reaches across the table to pull the cotton out of her father’s ears, then plops back into her chair rolling her eyes.

Jeremy chuckles.  “Oh, that. The barn animals were at it again last night, noisy buggers. They’ve been particularly active the past few weeks. You need to talk to John about what he’s feeding them.”

Anne and Ann freeze and stare at their plates, their cheeks flushing a bright red. Perhaps they have been a bit too rambunctious…and Ann needs to learn how to stifle a moan! Anne takes a deep breath and turns to Ann.

“Care for some tea?”

Breakfast is pleasant enough. Ann enjoys watching Anne and Marian bicker, while Aunt Anne and Jeremy roll their eyes and sigh. She notices how Aunt Anne tends to side more with Anne than Marian on most topics of discussion. She likes Marian - she’s kind and sweet, and resentfully takes a backseat to the power house of Anne Lister. Ann likes her sass in spite of it. It’s obvious Anne is the dominating force in the family, but she does respect her elders, particularly her Aunt.

George interrupts the chatter when he announces an unexpected visitor.

“Captain Lister, sir, there’s a gentleman here to see you. Mr. William Maxwell of Everingham. He says he’s the Sheriff of Yorkshire.”

Everyone at the table falls silent, looking quizzically at Jeremy. Anne quips, “Father, they’ve finally come to take you away.”

“Ha ha,” Jeremy responds flatly. “George, ask him to come in here and join us for breakfast. Ask Mrs. Cordingley to please fix him a plate.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jeremy turns to Anne. “Mr. Maxwell is the Constable I told you about the other day. I met him in a pub.” Anne nods in remembrance. The table remains relatively quiet while they wait for the constable to enter the room.

Jeremy makes the introductions. “Mr. Maxwell! Do come in and join us. This is my sister, Anne Lister, my daughters Anne and Marian, and this is Miss Ann Walker of Crownest.”

Mr. Maxwell shakes hands with everyone, and seems to take a longer look at Anne and Ann than everyone else at the table.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I’m so sorry to disturb your breakfast, but I have very important business to attend to this morning.”

Anne speaks up. “Please, Mr. Maxwell, take a seat and have some tea. There’s always time for tea,” she says with a smile.

Mr. Maxwell nods his appreciation as George slides a chair behind him and helps him push up to the table.

“How do we fit into this very important business, Mr. Maxwell?” asks Jeremy.

George pours the tea and Mr. Maxwell waits quietly for him to leave.

“I’m sure you’re all aware of the violence that’s taken place the past few weeks.” Most everyone nods and murmurs, except for Anne. He turns to Ann. “Especially, you, Miss Walker. I appreciate your relaying the details of your attack to my Under-Sherriff last week.”

Ann simply nods and looks down at her hands in her lap. Anne notices. She’s worried about Ann’s mental health…how she’s managing through her emotions around the attack, as well as what she told Anne the other night about Reverend Ainsworth.

Anne is chomping at the bit to make a point. 

“Violence? There’s no question Miss Walker was viciously attacked, and I hope her attacker will be brought to justice very soon. But I thought Mr. Rawson’s death was an accident. And Mr. Sowden’s death is apparently still questionable. With his penchant for alcohol, any number of possibilities could be attributed to his death.”

Mr. Maxwell pushes his glasses back on his nose. “Yes, Mr. Sowden’s death is still being investigated, but we believe, given the bones in his neck that were broken, some kind of outside force was applied. It would be impossible to simply fall down in a drunken state and break your neck in that way. We are looking into a possible suspect, and Mr. Rawson’s death has some suspicious evidence surrounding it, too”

Anne taps her fingertips on the table, still not convinced this constable knows what he’s doing.

“But…and the reason I am here is because…I’m afraid there’s been another suspicious death,” says Mr. Maxwell. “In a nearby county…over in Grains Bar.”

“Another death?” Aunt Anne holds her hand to her chest, her heart pounding at the news.

Anne jumps in. “Grains Bar…that’s halfway between here and Manchester. I go through there sometimes to change horses when I’m going in that direction,” says Anne. “It’s a two-horse town. What could any of us possibly have to do with a death in that area? Who died?”

“A reverend…from over in Northwich.” The constable looks at Ann.  “Reverend Thomas Ainsworth.”

Ann gasps, then has trouble catching her breath. Anne jumps up to aid her. “Ann! Marian, pour her some water.” Everyone waits for Ann to absorb the shock, Aunt Anne rubbing her back.

“I…He...” Ann can’t get the words out.

The constable helps her out. “You know the reverend. You were friends, weren’t you?” he asks Ann.

“Ye…Yes. His wife…she…she was my friend.” Ann’s eyes well up and her hands are shaking. Anne kneels down next to her, one hand rubbing her arm, the other handing her the glass of water.

“He was found in a barn…a pitchfork sticking clear through his chest.”

“Good heavens!” exclaims Jeremy. Aunt Anne and Marian grimace. A fresh rush of tears flows from Ann’s eyes as she sobs into a handkerchief. Anne looks at the constable with irritation for having upset Ann.

“We’re still investigating. We have a lead on someone else being in the area…someone nobody recognized as a local. Sadly, nobody got a good look at him…or her,” he mumbles those last two words under his breath, but Anne heard it.

Anne continues to rub Ann’s back and encourages her to sip the water.  “That’s it…small sips.” Ann begins to slightly rock, backwards and forwards, as a way to calm herself.

Anne is furious with the constable and wants this man out of her house as soon as possible. Ann is obviously upset and she wants to get her back upstairs so she can lie down.

“So how can we help you, Constable?” The constable turns to Anne. “Miss Lister, you were seen at Mr. Rawson’s home on the day he died. Is that true?”

Ann, still in shock over the reverend’s death, looks at Anne completely confused.

Anne feels a pit of acid boil in her stomach. She catches on quickly, she knows where this is going. She stands up to face the constable, her arm on the back of Ann’s chair.

“Yes, I was there. The Rawson brothers and I are negotiating terms for a coal lease. I visited Christopher Rawson’s home at Hope Hall to deliver a list of my latest demands. The servants were there at the time…ask them, I’m sure they’ll remember seeing me.”

“Yes, we did ask, and yes, they remember you. What time did you arrive and when did you leave?”

Anne’s eyes flicker. She takes a deep breath and looks up at the ceiling, attempting to recount that day from over a week ago. “I believe I arrived somewhere around 4:00 PM, and left by 4:45. I wanted to get up the Old Bank before dark. Why are you asking me these questions?”

“When Mr. Rawson’s body was found, there were some muddy footprints found alongside the carriage. The stable boy swears they weren’t there when he closed up the barn around 4:00 that evening. Based on the measurements of the prints, the shoe size of the person who put them there wears about a size 7 or 8. What size shoe do you wear, Miss Lister?”

Anne’s tone is sharp. “Surely there are numerous people in the area of Halifax with a shoe that size. Any one of them could have gone into the Rawson’s barn without anyone knowing. And for the record, I wear a size 7.”

“That’s true about the number of people. However, we intend to eliminate as many people as we possibly can from the list of potential suspects. We are starting with those people known to be in the area of Mr. Rawson’s home. This includes you.”

Anne nods. “I see. Well…I’m prepared to fully cooperate in your investigation, just let me know what you need and when. I certainly have nothing to hide.” She looks down at Ann and gives her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, a silent communication that she’s here if Ann needs anything. She sits back down in her chair, everyone at the table looking at her. She crosses her left foot over her right thigh and casually drapes her arms over the armrests of her chair.

“Thank you, Miss Lister, your cooperation is appreciated. Now…as I’m sure you’re aware, there was a carriage accident above the Hall a few weeks before Mr. Rawson’s death. It involved…(the constable looks down at his notes)…a Mr. William Hardcastle and his family. He is your tenant, correct?”

“Yes, he is.” 

“And his young son lost a leg in the accident, yes?”

“He did. I helped the doctor amputate it.”

The constable looks at Anne in mild surprise. “I see. Well, witnesses I’ve questioned stated you said the driver of the carriage that caused the accident should be…and I quote…’strung up’.  Is that correct, Miss Lister? Did you say that?”

“I did. It was on rent day at the Stags Head Inn. I said it to William Hardcastle himself. There were lots of people there saying things that should be done to the man who caused poor little Henry to lose his leg!”

The constable remains silent and nods. “Now…if we could turn to Mr. Sowden.”

Ann looks up at Anne, still confused. What could Anne possibly have to do with any of this?

Anne crosses her arms and waits for the constables question.

“Mr. Sowden, as you now probably know, was found the morning after his death on the side of the road new Upper Carr Farm. You were seen, Miss Lister, up in that area in the late afternoon on the day of Mr. Sowden’s death. Is that correct?”

“I was in that area. I was on my way back to Shibden Hall from Northowram, and the Upper Carr Farm road is a shortcut back to my land.”

Marian leans over to Ann and whispers, “Our land.” Anne hears it and scowls at her.

The constable continues. “Did you see anyone up in that area?”

“Not that I recall. There are no active farms in the area, so it’s unusual for anyone to be up there. Apparently there was someone up there if they spotted me. Have you spoken with them? What’s their reason for being up there?” Anne is getting testy.

“We have. It was an older woman and her young granddaughter returning to Halifax from Hebden Bridge. They said the same thing, it’s a shortcut. But they said they saw you…wearing a field hat, a wool coat and boots.”

Anne sighs frustratedly. “Yes, that is what I was wearing, along with every other person in West Yorkshire. What’s so significant about that?”

Everyone at the table continues to look back and forth between Anne and the constable as the questioning continues.

“I’ll get back to that in a moment,” says the constable. “Miss Lister, someone overheard a discussion between you and Mr. Sowden at the Stags Head Inn over in Mytholm. Do you recall being there about two weeks ago?”

“Yes, again, it was rent day. I was collecting my rents. All my tenants were there. The Hardcastles, the Sowdens, the Naylors…all of them. My father, too.” She looks at her father who nods at her in confirmation. 

“Someone said they heard you and Mr. Sowden having a terse exchange. You said something about ‘giving as good as you get’. Do you recall that conversation?”

Anne laughs in disbelief. “I do! Mr. Sowden was threatening me! Sam Sowden was short on his rent, mainly having to do with confusion over terms he negotiated with my father.” Anne looks at her father with annoyance, while Jeremy grimaces. “Sam said to me that there will come a time when landlords get kicked off their land by their tenants. It was a clearthreat, Mr. Maxwell. My response was to let him know we won’t be intimated by his threats. There must have been a dozen or so witnesses to this conversation. Any one of them can confirm my view of the thing.”

“I will be certain to have conversations with each of those witnesses. What’s consistent across the board, Miss Lister,…” Mr. Maxwell take his glasses off and rubs his eyes, then puts them back on.

“…is the following. You have approximately the same shoe size as the muddy prints left in Rawson’s barn and you were there the day he died. And you made a threatening remark about him at the Stags Head Inn.”  

Anne chuckles with disdain as she picks at the lint on her skirt. The constable continues.

“Also, you were spotted up near Upper Carr farm on the same day Sam Sowden died, someone you admit you had a terse exchange with just days before his death.”

Anne throws her arms out wide. “Oh, come on!” 

“And you were wearing a field hat, a wool coat and boots.”

Anne smacks her hands against the chair in frustration. “Mr. Maxwell-“

“And on the day of Reverend Ainsworth’s death, the barkeep stated a stranger was in the same pub where Mr. Ainsworth had a drink just before he was killed. This person was wearing a wool coat, a field hat and muddy boots. And then…on the day of Miss Walker’s attack…she herself stated her attacker was wearing a field hat…a wool coat…and muddy boots.”

Anne blows her top and stands up. “And what, pray tell, is my connection to Mr. Ainsworth?!”

The constable considers this, then says, “I’m still working on that connection. Other than the similarity in clothing, that’s all I have at the moment.”

”Yes, and you know why?! Because I don’t know the man, and I certainly have no reason to kill him!”

The room falls silent as the constable and Anne stare at one another. Ann’s mouth is hanging slightly open as she looks at Anne utterly bewildered.

“In the case of Mr. Rawson and Mr. Sowden, you have means, motive and opportunity. With Mr. Rawson, it’s widely known about the bitter relationship between you two, and that you’re in the midst of some difficult negotiations over the terms of a coal lease.”

“He’s stealing my coal!” Anne is furious and her only outlet for the anger is to pace behind her chair.

“With Mr. Sowden, it’s well known, Miss Lister, that the two of you don’t get along, and he has threatened you on a few occasions. Whose to say you didn’t eliminate that threat.”

Anne throws up her hands in disbelief.

“And as I said, as far as Mr. Ainsworth is concerned, we are still investigating possible connections.”

Ann swallows hard and closes her eyes. She can’t possibly have done this…could she?

Anne leans over the back of her chair, hands clasped. She speaks quietly and firmly.

“Mr. Maxwell. I assure you…I had nothing to do with the deaths of Mr. Rawson, Mr. Sowden, or the Reverend Ainsworth. And I certainly did not attack Miss Walker. I suggest you widen the aperture of your investigation to ensure you’ve got all the facts, sir, because clearly, you do not.”

Anne stands up tall. She is not letting this man bully her into any kind of confession.

“Well…come what may, Miss Lister, I ask that you not travel outside the city limits of Halifax, or the broader Calderdale Valley, until our investigation is completed. Is that understood?”

Anne doesn’t say a word, she simply flicks her wrist and looks out the window. 

“She won’t,” says her father.  Anne picks up the bell on the table and rings it, summoning George.

“George, the constable is leaving.”

The constable looks at everyone and nods. Once he has left, Marian turns to Anne. “Well, leave it to you, Anne.”

Anne glares at her hard, then stomps out of the room leaving everyone sitting there in silence. Ann doesn’t know what to think or do. A million thoughts go through her brain in an instant.

DoIreally know AnneLister? Wasitherthattriedto attack meinthewoodsandIjustcan’tremember? Butwhywouldshedothat? There’s no reason for her to do such a thing! Could she really have killed those men? I should never have told her about Reverend Ainsworth! Should I go home? Should I…should I stay away from Anne?