The Vigilante

Anne walks for hours across the pathways and fields of her land as she turns over the details of the constable’s visit in her head. The things he accused her of are absolute nonsense!  And yet, she appears to be on a very short list of suspects. Even though the evidence is shaky and mostly circumstantial, people are often convicted of crimes based on rumors and the court of public opinion. If that’s the case, Anne knows she’s screwed.

What bothers her the most about the constable’s inquisition is Ann’s failure to speak up on her behalf. She rescued her from possible death in the woods…does that not afford her some support from the woman she’s become enamored with?

She kicks at the grass as she looks up at the Hall on the hill. She pulls out her pocket watch to check the time. It’s getting on toward noon. She decides the best thing to do is to stop sulking and approach this head-on with Ann, get to the bottom of why she didn’t step in and defend her. She straightens her shoulders and heads up the hill.

Once inside, she bounds up the steps and glides into her room. She comes to an immediate stop when she finds Ann packing her things in her trunk.

“What are you doing?” 

Ann sees the frown on Anne’s face and stops folding her clothes. She looks at her nervously.

“Well…my foot is feeling much better and I think I should…get out of your way and return to Crownest.”

“No. Your foot. It’s not quite healed, it’s too soon-“

“I just think it would be better if… if I’m not a distraction right now. You don’t need to be taking care of me at the same time you’re trying to…you obviously have a lot of things to work out, Anne, and I don’t want to be a burden.”

Anne is taken aback, but more hurt.

“Ah…I see. When the going gets a little tough, you abandon me? Well..I’m glad we figured that out early on. I see that my support for you during your time of need will not necessarily be reciprocated.”

Anne’s words sting, they slam Ann right in the heart.

“Anne, no…that’s not true. I just…I can’t do this to you right now.”

“Yes, you can. I want you here, Ann…at Shibden.”

Anne can hear the tears in Ann’s voice.

“No, I can’t. On top of everything else, I should never have told you about Mr. Ainsworth. I should never have said anything. I should’ve kept it all to myself and then there wouldn’t be these… concerns.” 

“No, you did absolutely the right thing to tell me about Mr. ..what concerns?” Anne’s anger is starting to spill over.

“I just…I can’t do this, Anne. It’s become impossible. I’ll only distract-“

“Do you actually think I did the things the constable is accusing me of?!”

Ann starts to shake.

“I think... I think I should go. This is…it’s just all too much.”

“Toomuch? Ann…I rescued you in the woods! Do you really think that I would do something so heinous as to attack you, then bring you to my home to help you heal?!”

“No, Anne, please. I don’t think it was you that attacked me. It’s just…the other things.”

“Ah, the other things…I see. Well, Miss Walker…it’s good to know you believe in me, and that I have your trust and confidence!”

Ann stands near the bed, clutching her robe to her heart. This conversation has not gone the way she’d hoped it would. Anne continues lashing out.

“You know…you understand nothing about me. I thought you did, but you don’t! Absolutelynothing!”  She turns to leave the room, then stops and turns around.

“I’ll send George up to help you with your things and take you back to your tr…to Crownest. I wish you continued recovery and good health, Miss Walker. Goodbye.”

Anne storms out of the room before Ann has a chance to see her eyes well up with tears. Ann is left standing next to the bed, her lips quivering, her eyes brimming with tears. This isn’t what she wanted. She simply wanted to get out of Anne’s way and not be a burden to her while she cleared her good name. She doesn’t want to leave, she doesn’t want things with Anne to end. Her only thought is, What have I done. 

Anne rushes downstairs and finds George in the kitchen with Mrs. Cordingley, snacking on a biscuit.

“George”, she says harshly. “Go upstairs and help Miss Walker load her things in the carriage, then take her over to Crownest. Now, please!”

Anne abruptly turns to walk back down the hall leaving George and Mrs. Cordingley to share a silent exchange of ‘whathappened’ and ‘uhoh’.

Anne rushes out the back door, through the barn and down the hill at a record pace. When she’s certain she’s really alone, she lets the tears pour out of her. She chokes on her sobs and comes to a stop on the hillside, falling to her knees. She stays there for a good 15 minutes, allowing her emotions to wash over her and pass through. Once she’s had a good cry, she wipes her face and gives herself a good stern talking to out loud, for only her ears to hear. 

“She neither deserves nor understands what I’ve done for her..helping her heal…helping her discover her true self…bringing her out of her shell and getting her away from her stupid tribe. I ought not to care, I ought to let her return to her simple, little life and have done with it. She’s too insipid and nervous and poorly for me. Surely. And what could I do with her? She’d never agree to live at Shibden…or be my…my... If she had any real feelings for me, she wouldn’t believe the things the constable said. Surely. No…I’m better off…on my own. I will double my efforts elsewhere…to clearing my good name and making a mockery out of this…this Sheriff. Nothing but bollocks!”

Anne uses the heel of her palm to wipe the tears from her cheeks, then stands up and adjusts her pelisse. She tugs down sharply on the hem of her waistcoat and sets off for the last place where the men were building out the new road.

///////////

Ann leans on her crutches in the courtyard of Shibden Hall, the Lister family (all except Anne) and the servants wishing her well. Marian keeps looking around for Anne.

“I don’t know where that sister of mine is, Miss Walker. Surely she’d want to be here to wish you well.”

It’s all Ann can do to suppress the tears.

“It’s all right, Marian, we’ve already said our goodbyes.” She almost loses it on that last word.

She turns to Jeremy and shakes his hand. “Captain Lister, thank you for everything. I’ll never forget how kind you all were during my convalescence. I’ll miss you.”

“Come again soon, Miss Walker. Don’t be a stranger.”

She moves to Aunt Anne. “Aunt,” she whispers, and no more words are needed. Aunt Anne envelops her in a warm hug. “You dear, sweet girl,” she says. “She’ll come around, don’t worry.” Ann pulls back and looks into Aunt Anne’s knowing eyes. 

She limps to Marian. “Miss Marian. Please come and see me at Crownest. I’ve enjoyed our chats so much. You were a highlight of my stay here.” They exchange a warm hug and Marian commits to paying a call to her soon.

She turns to Hemingway and Mrs. Cordingley. “Ladies, thank you for everything.”

Both women smile wide and curtsy to her. 

George helps her into the carriage, and with a snap of the whip, they’re off. Ann looks back through the rear window and waves. She looks up at Anne’s bedroom window and tears begin anew. Her life completely changed in that room and she’ll never forget it…nor the woman who changed it for her.

///////////

The carriage comes to a stop in front of Crownest, Mrs. Fenton and James standing out front to greet the lady of the house. George opens the door and helps Ann down from the carriage. Ann situates her crutches then looks at Mrs. Fenton.

“I might need a little help,” she says meekly.

“Aww, poor dear. Take my arm..”

James steps in between them and says, “Allow me, Miss Walker.“

He leans down and easily picks Ann up in his arms, Ann squeaking in surprise. He carries her upstairs to her room, Mrs. Fenton close behind. He sets her down next to the bed and begins to back up and out the door.

“Thank you, James.”

“Of course, ma’am. Feel better, ma’am.”

She lies down on the bed to take a breather and close her eyes. All she can see is Anne’s face when she last saw her…so sad…so angry…so upset. It breaks her heart all over again. She wishes Mrs. Fenton would leave so she could have some alone time for a good cry.

Mrs. Fenton bustles about the room unpacking Ann’s things and putting them in their proper place, all the while filling Ann in on the latest gossip.

“….and we’ve all been so worried about you, Miss Walker, with your injury and everythin’. Very impressed you were able to fight the man off!  Oh, and your aunt was not happy about you being over at Shibden for so long. She kept sending her footman over every five minutes t’ get the latest on your recovery. And of course, we had nothing to tell her. Don’t know why she kept sending him here. She should have sent him over t’ Shibden Hall.”

Ann hears about every 5th word.

“….and your cousin Catherine dropped off some fresh paints for your watercolors. Mr. and Mrs. Priestly paid a call a week ago to check up on you. They left a card. Oh, and that Mr. Ainsworth stopped by not long ago.”

Ann’s eyes snap open and she bolts upright.

“What?!”

Mrs. Fenton stops flitting about and turns toward Ann.

“The Reverend Ainsworth. He stopped by several days ago to call on you. James dealt with him, not me. It sounds like he was pretty insistent on seeing you. James said he politely informed the reverend that you were out and not available, but he kept pressing him. I think James said summat about having to push him out the door.”

Mrs. Fenton looks up as she remembers her conversation with James.

“You know…now that I think on it, James said it looked like he’d been in a fight.”

“A fight?”

Mrs. Fenton gestures toward her eye. “Yes, like he had a black eye or summat.” She turns back to the cupboard and continues putting Ann’s clothes away. “James said it looked like he’d had his clock cleaned.”

“Which eye?”

“What?” Mrs. Fenton is perplexed.

”Which. Eye.” Ann’s heart is pounding as she waits for Mrs. Fenton to spit it out.

Mrs. Fenton’s face scrunches up as she tries to remember. “The left one, I think. Yes…left.”