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else. Therefore I do not believe her words, but I shall discover for myself whether she was telling
the truth.” She cut a bit of the scone apart and lifted it to her mouth. After a moment she laughed.
“Well, I suppose that Hope was lying, Mrs. Parnell. This tastes as grand as all of her other
creations do.”
Anne chuckled softly, staring blankly at her hands. Kim studied her for a few moments
and then sighed.
“Mrs. Parnell, I believe that you possess the notion that your servants do not regularly
notice your actions and behavior, but the truth is that we really do, and I have observed that you
have been acting unusually subdued for the past few days. Ma’am, I would like to know what is
bothering you. Will you kindly tell me?”
Anne paused, slowly moving her eyes to rest them upon her maid. She smiled suddenly at
her. “Well, Kim, I suppose I have believed that you and the others do not pay heed to me. I never
realized it until you said so now. Save for Guinevere and her husband, my servants are the
people whom I have truly become closest to through the years, and I know that I can trust nearly
every one of them. Do forgive me. I will tell you what has been troubling me immediately.
Please be seated.”
Kim obeyed, settling on the sofa next to Anne and looking at her intently. Gulping, Anne
turned her body so that it was completely facing Kim’s. Attempting to gather the bravery to
speak, she slowly inhaled.
“Kim, it has been two months now since Roth did something…horrible to me.” She
glanced down at her hands in anxiety, but she felt more confident than she would have thought
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possible, for Kim’s words had made her realize that she trusted her maids as much as she did
Guinevere, and she had endured too many hardships to keep all of them to herself. Looking at
her maid again, the words flowed quickly out of her mouth. “Kim, you are aware that I stole
Portia. A few days after I did, Roth discovered that I had, forced me to return the child to
Guinevere and became so angry with me that he physically abused me, tore apart my dress and
then forced himself upon me.”
Kim gasped, the color emptying from her cheeks as she covered her mouth. Her hand
instinctively moved to lie upon Anne’s. “Oh, Mrs. Parnell, I….I cannot believe that he would
perform such a vicious act. It is perfectly horrid! However did you persevere through such an
experience?”
Anne smiled sourly, her eyes slightly moistening. “By sheer will, as I have with many
other ordeals in my life. Anyway, I have certainly been attempting to forget about what he did,
but now I am unsure if I truly can. You see, Kim, I realized a few days ago that I am with child,
and I am certain that it was conceived on that dreadful morning that I have described.” She
leaned forward, staring at her maid with small desperation. “Kim, I am sure you understand that I
do not want such a child as this. I could never be able to love or care for it because it would be a
constant remembrance of what happened to me. Thus, I decided that I must have the child
aborted.”
Kim swiftly inhaled, but her eyes were sympathetic and caring. The hand that was atop
Anne’s tightened reassuringly. “I understand why you would want to rid of what you are
carrying, ma’am,” she said quietly. “I also do not believe that I would want to remember such a
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terrible happening by looking at a child who came from it. But I feel that it is not right for me to
advise you in this situation. To me, it seems to be a matter that is strictly moral, and I think it is
best if you speak about it to your husband and then make a final decision.”
Anne drew back, her eyes shining with stubbornness and boldness. “I cannot tell Roth
that I am with child, Kim, and he most certainly cannot know that I wish to have it aborted. You
are aware of what kind of man he is, are you not? He would be purely furious with me!”
“Yes, ma’am, but I think it is best that you do tell him. He doesn’t have to know how you
came to be with child. Simply say that you wish to have it aborted, and if he asks you why, say
that you just do not feel like the pregnancy is going well and aborting the child would be wise.
Those words sound simple, don’t you agree? I would advise you to be as serene and kind as you
possibly can, of course. That is always helpful,” she added cheerfully, cutting off a bit of her
scone and placing it in her mouth.
Anne became quiet as she thought about what her maid had said. “Yes, I suppose you’re
right,” she said finally. She smiled at Kim. “Thank you for your advice, Kim. When Roth returns
from London, I will tell him what you instructed me to say. I hope that he understands, but
knowing him, that is likely too much to hope for.”
“Now you mustn’t worry, Mrs. Parnell.” Kim rested her hand against Anne’s shoulder. “I
am sure that everything will be all right in the end.”
Anne nodded, smiling at her maid. I can only hope that Roth will allow me to see that the
child is aborted, she thought anxiously.
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The following afternoon, Anne watched from the mansion doorway as Roth’s carriage
wheeled through the property gate and into the stable yards. She had been waiting for his arrival
the entire day, for she was one who liked to face possible confrontations with others as soon as
she could manage it. A few minutes passed before she saw his tall figure advancing toward the
estate and she drew a careful breath, moistening her lips nervously. His eyes moved onto her and
he smiled like a covetous serpent.
“Why, Anne, did you miss me? I know that I’m a desirable man, but I certainly did not
expect you to be here to greet me like this.”
Anne’s eyes narrowed as her dislike of the man melted away her anxieties. “I am not here
to greet you, Roth. But I do have something important to tell you and I would be appreciative if
you paid full attention to what I’m going to say.”
Roth stopped before her, lifting an eyebrow and glaring suspiciously. “Is that so? Well, I
doubt that I am going to like what I hear from you.”
“Perhaps not, but you need to hear it nonetheless.” Anne inhaled, standing erect and
holding complete eye contact with her husband. “I am with child, and I do not feel like the
pregnancy is going very well. Dr. York had to be sent for a couple of times whilst you were
away, as a matter of fact, and he believes that I am bound to fall ill if he does not…abort the
child. Therefore, I think it is best if…”
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“What?!” Roth bellowed suddenly, anger flooding his eyes. “You want the physician to
abort this child? Why, in God’s name, would you wish for that to be done? Why?”
Anne blinked, her muscles beginning to tremble, but she held her gaze. “I told you why. I
do not feel like the child is healthy. Dr. York feels the same way, you know.”
“Enough with your damned lies!” He stepped toward her, raising his hand. “If you lie to
me one more time, wench, I will strike you. Now I don’t want to hear one more word about
aborting this child. Do you care to live for a long time yet? If you do, you will not speak to me
anymore about this matter, or I will strike you with such force that you will be moments away
from your death!”
Anne did not say anything for a moment, but suddenly her courage was returned to her
and she stepped toward Roth, her jaw set. “I am no longer afraid of anything that you can do to
me, Roth. And you will be sorry if you lay a single finger upon me. Trust me, you do not want to
do that, with everything else that you have ever done to me.”
He laughed harshly, stepping back. “All right, then how about this-no, wait a moment
here. Anne, you possess the wrong impression about me, my dear. Abortion should be something
that I support, shouldn’t it? Especially after I had such a pleasurable time ‘aborting’ that child of
Guinevere’s.”
Anne gasped, struck with horror, but Roth continued to speak.
“Yes…I rather enjoyed that.” He laughed madly, bending over with the ill humor of his
statement. When he lifted his face again it was serious and menacing. “I did not hesitate to
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destroy that infant, and I would not hesitate to do the same to another of your friends. Who are
you closest to? Why, yes, of course: Guinevere. Now it is time for you to pay full attention to
what I have to say, Anne: if you even consider asking Dr. York to abort this child without my
consent, I will ‘abort’ your friend and dear cousin Guinevere like I did her daughter and I will do
it with no remorse whatsoever. No, you know that I would not regret it in the slightest.” He
smiled outrageously at her, confident in his own wit. “Do you understand me?”
Anne stood staring at him, her features betraying shock, horror, pain and unwillingness,
but before she could respond Roth strode away from her with a pompous air. When she had
recovered, she blinked to keep the tears from coursing down her face, but the former obstinacy
that she had contained about the abortion dispelled away from her when she thought of her
cousin’s life. Sullenly she turned and went into the mansion.
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23 Unsolicited Blessing
January 1783
Henry excitedly rushed into the drawing room where Anne was sitting.
“Mama, it’s snowing outside!”
She frowned. “Is it truly?” Standing, she moved toward the nearest window and smiled.
“Well, so it is.”
“Willie, Rose and me are going out to play,” the child continued. “Do you want to come,
too?”
Anne turned to look at him, smiling with gratitude. “That does sound fine, Henry. I was
going to go out, as I was hoping to visit Guinevere. It seems like the weather is going to stay like
this for a while, so do you mind if I played with you and Willie on another day?”
“No, Mama, I don’t mind.”
“Thank you, dear.”
The boy turned away before Anne spoke again.
“Wait, Henry. Guinevere hasn’t visited us for a while, has she?”
Henry frowned for a moment in thought. “I suppose not,” he said slowly.
“I would say the same.” Her brow knit in confusion and slight alarm. “Do you recall the
last time that she was here?”
“Oh, yes. Remember when she came to spend Christmas with us?”
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“Yes, of course,” Anne answered with realization. Tension diffused from her muscles and
she smiled knowingly. “And after that, she told me that she might be occupied with helping
Wain for a while. I suppose that I should not become so easily concerned. Thank you, Henry. I
hope that you and your brother have a good time outside.”
Anne took up her purse and then proceeded toward the mansion doorway. Her heart stung
strangely, for though she had come upon the realization that Guinevere had visited her home
quite recently, she still thought it a bit strange that her cousin would be so occupied that she
would not have a single moment to communicate or spend time with her.
Well, never mind, she thought resolutely. I will travel to her home to visit her.
Anne stopped her horse near Guinevere’s home, dismounted and steadily approached the
house’s doorway, hoping continuously that her cousin and her husband were unharmed. When
she was standing directly before the door, she raised her hand to rap on it, but as she was about to
do so a harsh arm grabbed hers, steered her away to the side of the building and threw her against
that wall. Startled, Anne looked upon the face of her provoker and saw her husband. His
countenance appeared both irritated and merry.
“I ought to have thought that you would come here,” he growled. A sadistic grin spread
upon his lips. “You care so for your friend Guinevere, you simply cannot live for a month
without possessing the comforting knowledge that she is safe and content.” He glared at her. “Is
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that not the reason why you are here now? Why did you come, Anne? Tell me!” He placed his
hands on her shoulders and shook her. Quite calm and unafraid, Anne frowned at him,
bewildered at his demanding manner.
“What is it, Roth? Are you trying to gain my respect by speaking to me like that? I should
ask you why you are here. You are correct, though. I did come to see Guinevere.”
Roth’s cheeks flushed angrily at his wife’s nonchalantly spoken words, but he grinned
broadly, chuckling cruelly. “You are here to see your cousin, hm? Well, let me say this: I wish
you fortune with that.” His chuckling grew into mad cackling as he stood over Anne, smiling
triumphantly at her.
Anne gasped quietly and her eyes filled with tears as she digested his words, but her
composure was serene. Her head lowered, and as she stared blindly at the snow-laden ground,
she thought of Roth’s personality and all of the unspeakable acts that he had ever committed
against her and a great, terrible rage welled within her and healthily thrived like a well-fed fire.
Abruptly she lifted her head and looked squarely at Roth, glaring at him with every bit of
emotion that reigned in her being.
“Why, Roth? Why do you wish me fortune? Oh, is it because you killed her as well?
Why, yes, that must be the reason, of course! I am surprised at you, Roth Parnell. I somehow
thought that with your pure behavior and ideals, you would never do something so horrible. But
it seems that I was wrong.” She stepped toward him, her tone upset and stinging. “Do you
believe that you can continue to make me unhappy with your heartless murders and dispassionate
mind? Well, I will now tell you that if you do believe this, you could not be more incorrect! You
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know, I do pity you, Roth, for the time that you spent murdering both Portia and Guin was
worthless. You killed them for nothing! Do you understand me? Nothing! You see, I was once
weaker than I am now, and that fact persuaded you to govern over me like I was a valueless
piece of rubbish, tearing away my dress, forcing yourself upon me and giving me yet another
child whom I cannot even be glad to give birth to! Well, you cannot hurt me like that anymore,
Roth, for I am now strong. You may have broken me physically, but you cannot emotionally
break me. The trials that I have endured whilst being married to you have only added to all of the
other trials that I have known throughout my life, so that by my life’s end, all that you have
forced me to persevere will be unrecognizable from the other difficulties that I have faced. Yes,
Roth, continue to abuse me in every way that you can imagine-but no matter what you do to me,
my spirit will not be broken. Who will you kill next? Me? Do so without a second thought, and
immediately. For God’s sake, Roth, kill your own children! You killed Portia, young as she was.
But let me tell you this: no matter who you abuse or the manner in which you abuse him, you can
never break his spirit. And even if you were to molest me until I was barely alive I would still be
in possession of my essence, therefore, in truth I would be living and well. Yes, Roth-even after I
had died my spirit would remain strong and true, so you see that even a man as powerful as you
could not harm it in the slightest. Your efforts to obliterate it would be absolutely futile, and
there is nothing that you can ever do to change that!”
She noisily exhaled, covering her mouth with a hand as the tears fell from her eyes.
Before her, Roth stood rather uncertainly, appearing confused and shocked by her emotional
discourse. Feeling a beam of satisfaction shine through her pain, anger and grief, Anne broke
away from Roth’s deadened grip, ran to her waiting mount, climbed upon it and induced it to
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gallop quickly back to the mansion.
March 1783
Breathing evenly, Anne swallowed her tears and walked slowly to the doorway of
Wainwright’s home. She raised her hand and rapped on the door, but a movement caught her eye
and she turned to see the man staring glumly at her through one of the front windows. His eyes
were sunken and his face was gaunt. Anne’s face furrowed in pain and concern for the sorrow
that was overwhelming him.
“Wain, please!” she called to him, the sobs in her throat beginning to break forth. “Please
open the door and let me come in, Wain. I have been trying to see you for two months now and I
will not stop trying to until you cease isolating yourself and allow me to come in. I loved Guin
just as much as you did. Please let me help you. I know that we can heal each other. Will you
please open the door?”
Wainwright remained in his position with the same expression on his face. After a few,
long moments, something in his countenance resurrected and he disappeared from Anne’s sight
to open the door. When he had, Anne took no time to embrace him.
“Oh, Wain, thank you. I have been so worried about you.” She stepped back and ran her
eyes over his unkempt appearance, sighing despairingly. “You must sit down. I shall prepare
some tea for us.”
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“Tea?” the man said weakly, staring despondently at the floor as Anne passed by him on
her way to the kitchen. “I have not had tea since…”
“Well, perhaps I can try to make better tea than she did,” Anne said as cheerfully as she
could, but after glancing again at Wainwright’s saddened face, her spirits fell once more. She
began to heat water for the tea, her eyes filling with tears at the memory of Guinevere. While the
water was warming, she went into the drawing room, sat near Wainwright and took his hand,
looking at him compassionately.
“Wain, I want to help you. Grief is an emotion that must be dealt with another. You know
how much I cared for Guin. She was like a sister to me. Please, speak and tell me about what
you’re feeling now.”
Wainwright breathed in slowly, tears flowing down his face. “Guinevere was everything
to me,” he murmured tenderly. “She loved me like no one else had before. I never thought that
Roth would be so immoral that he would take both Guinevere and Portia from me.” His hands
covered his face as his shoulders shook with suppressed sobs.
Drying away her own tears with a finger, Anne placed her hand consolingly on
Wainwright’s shoulder. “I am aware of how cruel my husband is, Wain, but I would have never
imagined that he would hurt you and I like this. You must know that I was not expecting him to
murder Guin and Portia any more than you were.”
Wainwright lifted his head to smile at Anne through his tears. He took her hand. “I know
that now, Anne. I’m deeply sorry that I blamed you so fervently after Portia was killed.”
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Anne smiled back at him. “Oh, never mind that, now. After all, you likely would have
blamed anyone for what had happened; you were quite upset.”
“Well, I should have known better than to blame you. Guinevere loved and trusted you
very much.” He covered his face with his hands again. “It is my fault that she’s gone.”
“No, Wain, of course it isn’t!” Anne exclaimed. “How could you even consider
imagining something like that?”
“I went to the church for my counseling on the afternoon that it happened…if I wouldn’t
have left, Roth would never have come and…”
“Wain, look at me.” Anne took both of his hands in hers and looked at him until he
obeyed her. “You did not do this, do you understand me? As I said earlier, you are again upset
and blaming someone for what happened. But even if you had not left that day, Roth would have
taken advantage of another opportunity to murder Guin. Can’t you see that?”
The man nodded resignedly, running a hand through his hair. He stared ahead of him
blankly. “I have been trying to remove the image from my mind, Anne…the image of my dear
Guinevere when I came back…” He closed his eyes tightly, his teeth clenching. “Oh, how I wish
that I had been here when that demon wrapped his hands around her neck and…”
Anne blinked back her tears as she held his hand securely. “Wain, you know that I long
to have Roth tried and executed for what he did, but he would likely kill you and I if we reported
him.”
Wainwright nodded tiredly. “Yes, I know. I once swore to exact vengeance on him for
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what he has taken from me, but the minister has shown me that is not for me to do. Roth will
receive what he deserves one day, at the hand of God. Anyway, I would not want to dishonor
Guinevere by holding such hatred in my heart.”
“No, of course not,” Anne returned. She glanced downward before slowly inhaling. She
squeezed Wainwright’s hand. “Roth has harmed me in ways that I hardly even care to mention,”
she said quietly. Swallowing, her eyes steadily filling with tears, she looked at him again. “Wain,
you are aware that I am now with child, a child that…that Roth forcibly conceived in me.”
Wainwright glanced at Anne, his worn features incredulous. “What? By use of force he
gave you a child to carry?” A flood of anger swept his face, but he checked it before it flared.
“Anne, there must be nothing that he cannot do! How can anyone be as heartless and beastly as
he?”
She shook her head. “I do not know, Wain, but you and I must rely on and trust each
other if we want to conquer our grief and negative emotions toward Roth. I promise that I will
visit you as often as I can to help you, and I hope that you will do the same. A visit from you
would lift my spirits always.”
“Don’t worry, Anne,” he said warmly, clasping her hand. “Of course I will visit you as
often as it is possible. I know that Guinevere would not have been glad if I were to do
otherwise.”
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June 1783
Rose hurried out of Anne’s bedroom one twilit evening with an empty basin and came
upon Hope on the landing.
“How is she, Rose?”
The maid appeared a bit grim. “I’m not entirely certain. Dr. York says that she and the
child are healthy, but Mrs. Parnell has been suffering emotionally these past few months. I know
that she is quite reluctant to give birth to the infant. You are aware of how it was conceived,
yes?”
Hope nodded, anger showing in her eyes. “Kim told me privately.”
“As she did me. I don’t believe that Mrs. Parnell knows that you, Clara and I know of it,
but I’m certain that she wouldn’t be upset that we do. After all, Kim said that she told her
because she made the decision to trust her maids better.”
Hope sighed. “I hope that dear Anne perseveres through the birth and comes to love this
child. She must. Roth tortures her enough.”
Rose nodded somberly. “We must do all t