Colin was seated in the Reynolds's parlor by a butler, as Anna's father was summoned by him. He had only courted three women seriously in his life, and although he had done this before, he still felt a surge of nervousness. If Simon Reynolds was any indication of the men in this family, then he wasn't looking forward to his father's reaction.
Brett Reynolds looked precisely like his son, down to the gleam of mischief in his blue eyes. He sat down in an armchair, crossing his legs and giving Colin a knowing look.
"Monsieur Moreau. To what do I owe the pleasure?" He said, grinning at Colin and putting him at ease. The intensity that literally seemed to pour out of Simon was absent in his father, though the promise of it was definitely present.
"Monsieur Reynolds," Colin began, remembering that he was a thirty year old man and not a boy of eighteen. "I have come to ask permission to court your daughter, Anna." A slow smile spread over the man's face and his head tilted thoughtfully to the side.
"Have you?" He replied, looking quite amused. "I can't say I'm surprised. Annie is a lovely girl, whom anyone would be lucky to have."
"Exactly." Colin agreed.
"I'm going to be perfectly candid with you, Moreau." Reynolds said, clasping his hands together while a completely new look came into his eyes. "Annie is very special to me, not only because she is my daughter, but she is my youngest." He sighed. "Before my two youngest daughters were born, we lost a little girl. She was killed in a terrible accident." Colin's mouth fell open in horror, unsure of what to say.
"I'm sorry." He blurted, watching the man nod in thanks.
"Her name was Rose. We were numb for a long time, my wife especially. She was pregnant at the time with our daughter Grace, who was such a wonderful blessing in her own right. It was Anna who saved her though. Plucky, independent Annie. She amused us endlessly with her clever little conversations and fast thinking. She made Meg laugh, which was something that she hadn't done enough of since Rose had been killed." Reynolds met Colin's eyes. "I would hate to see that quality in her quashed."
"Oh, absolutely." Colin acquiesced. "It's what drew me to her." A slight grin, threatened at the corners of Reynolds's mouth.
"You have my complete blessing to court Annie." He said, surprising Colin. "I only ask that your intentions be serious toward her if you continue to court her. I don't want to see her hurt."
"Monsieur, I am not the type of man who likes to play games with the hearts of women. I have never been the type to cavort with numerous ladies as so many before me have. The truth of it is, I am thirty years old. I have my own home, my own fortune, and I am looking for someone to share it with. Until now, I have not met anyone I could imagine spending the rest of my life with." This seemed to please Reynolds greatly, as he leaned forward to shake Colin's hand.
Mme. Reynolds entered the room a moment later, looking at them with thinly veiled curiosity. Though Colin could see the resemblance between her and Anna, he thought that Anna was a perfect mixture of her two parents.
"Darling," Reynolds said, reaching for his wife. "Go upstairs and inform Annie that she has a visitor." Colin could not deny the excitement he saw in Mme. Reynolds's lovely face as she nodded and left the room hastily. Colin stood, straightening the front of his coat as he waited for the women to come into the room.
From above, he heard a loud feminine shriek ring through the air, echoing throughout the house. Reynolds tore toward the staircase, followed closely by Colin, and they were halfway up the stairs when Colin was nearly run down by flash of black, trailed immediately by a flash of pink with blonde hair.
Anna did not even stop to look at him as she brushed past Colin, chasing the animal frantically. Bewildered, Colin stumbled back down the stairs with Anna's parents and walked with them into the parlor, where their daughter was crouched beside the sofa, looking underneath.
"Anna—" Her mother began uneasily, looking to her husband for guidance.
"She has a mouse, Pa!" Anna cried, looking back at them. Colin was struck by how adorable she looked, even though she was completely panicked. Swiftly, he moved to crouch in front of her and took a look underneath the sofa. The cat was sitting proudly there, with the tail of the mouse dangling dangerously from her mouth, her amber eyes were aglow. It was as if she was daring them to catch her, her long, elegant tail was whipping back and forth.
Colin did not have much experience with felines, but from what he knew about them, they were keenly intelligent and fast. She would need to be outwitted, and it wouldn't be easy.
"Cleopatra!" Anna hissed at her pet, reaching for her unsuccessfully as the cat sped from beneath the sofa and across the room to take refuge beneath a chair.
"Darling, she's a cat. She's supposed to catch mice." Reynolds assured his daughter, who had now flown to the opposite side of the room. Colin calmly assessed the situation and pulled Anna to her feet.
"Wait…make her think she's won." He told her, pointing to beneath the chair. "You named your cat, Cleopatra?" He added, laughing. He felt her entire body tense for a moment, watching as she slowly met his eyes with obvious dread. A resigned sigh made her shoulders slump in defeat.
"She's an Abyssinian. See how her ears are very large and her face is so exotic looking?" Colin hadn't really noticed, but the fact that she was so invested in it, made him smile anyway. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her parents share a mutual look of confusion." She's Egyptian." Anna added, looking toward her father again and moving out of Colin's grip. "She can't eat mice, Pa! They upset her stomach."
"I'm sure she'll be fine, Fl—"
"No Pa!" Anna cried, putting her hand desperately over her father's mouth to cut him off. Her blue eyes darted around the room quickly, lingering on Colin for a moment before she turned back to him. "She'll cast up her lunch all over the house and I'm sure Mother won't appreciate having mutilated mouse all over her lovely cream carpet." This caught Mme. Reynolds's attention. She gasped and clutched her husband's arm, so that he was now flanked by wife and daughter.
"Brett, get her!" Mme. Reynolds cried. The look of pleading he gave Colin would have been comical if the women hadn't been so distraught. Colin let out a long breath and gently bent in front of the chair. Cautiously, he extended his arm under the chair, just using it to agitate the cat into fleeing again. Colin was prepared this time, however, and caught her by surprise, wrapping his hand around her squirming, sinewy body. The offending rodent tumbled from her mouth and rolled onto the carpet, eliciting a shriek from Mme. Reynolds.
To his utter shock, the mouse was still alive, thrashing around in disoriented fury. Reynolds produced his handkerchief and swiftly caught the creature to take it outside while his wife sagged in relief against the arm of the sofa. Colin lifted the little gold name plate attached to the cat's collar and read the engraving.
Cleo.
Drawing in a long breath, he forced his eyes away from the collar to look up at Anna Reynolds, whose mother was trying to pin a part of her hair that had come undone. Slowly, recognition dawned on him as he looked at Anna. It was too perfect, though he wasn't ready to acknowledge it for fear of the small chance that he could be wrong.
A vision of her sitting at a desk by candlelight, writing a letter presented itself into his mind. She would have her lovely reddish gold hair loosely plaiting and hanging in a delightful rope down her back. Her delicate eyebrows would be furrowed while a small secretive smile played on her beautiful lips.
Anna looked up at him and Colin couldn't help himself, he grinned.
"You're never going to believe what's happening." Julienne Reynolds told her sister Esme Tiernay, as the two strolled through her garden. Esme's fiery light auburn hair glowed in the August sun.
"Let me guess, you're pregnant." Esme quipped, grinning impishly up at her. Julienne rolled her eyes.
"How did you know?" She retorted, linking her arm through Esme's. "No, listen. Colin is courting Anna Reynolds! He's gone to ask permission from her father today." Esme gasped in excited surprise.
"I knew he was distracted!" She cried triumphantly. "In London at Bella's, he was very vague and he left early. Gabrielle said he's been working late and avoiding everybody. I wonder if she's who he's been corresponding with."
"Well, that's the thing, Es." Julienne told her conspiratorially, pulling her onto the back terrace, where lemonade had been set out for them by Mme. Angler. She set about pouring the chilled liquid into glasses for them and handed one to Esme. "Both Colin and Anna were here the other day, and Colin asked me briefly if I knew a girl by the nickname of Flash."
"Flash?" Esme asked, making a face of confusion.
"Yes, apparently, he's been receiving letters from some anonymous young lady from Paris, with only a post office box as a return address. She only signs the letters 'Flash.'"
"How odd!" Esme cried, intrigued. Her blue eyes, identical to Julienne's, were alight with excitement.
"So," Julienne continued, "I told Simon about it when we were in bed together that night after we—" She cut off, turning bright red and sending her sister into a fit of laughter. "Well, I told him about it…and he said, 'Flash? Her nickname is Flash?' So I said, 'Yes.'" Julienne set her drink aside and leaned toward Esme.
"So what happened?" Esme demanded to know, sounding breathless with anticipation.
"So, Simon sat bolt upright in bed and looked at me. He said, 'Flash is my father's nickname for Anna!'"
"No!" Esme cried, delighted.
"That's not even the best part!" Julienne exclaimed, sounding like a young girl in her excitement. "Colin is now courting Anna, and he has no idea that she's Flash!"
"What did Simon say?" Julienne's smiled widened.
"He was, of course, a boar about it, but after some persuasion, I was able to convince him to leave it in his father's capable hands." She informed Esme, who smirked at her sister knowingly.
"What kind of persuasion?" Esme teased, waggling her eyebrows. Julienne reached over and swatted her sister on the arm.
"You've been married long enough to know what kind of persuasion." Her blue eyes narrowed affectionately on her younger sister. "Longer than anyone knows." Esme blushed, remembering that she'd secretly eloped with Roger before her wedding.
"I had to have him." Esme shrugged unapologetically. "I stole his virtue." Julienne raised an eyebrow, eyeing her sister cynically.
"Yes, I'm sure. He was an innocent before you." Julienne laughed.
"And poor, virginal Simon will never recover from the way you seduced him." Esme added, doubling over. It was common knowledge that Simon had been a rake of the worst kind before he'd compromised Julienne and married her. In the three months they had been married, he had completely changed, becoming not only affectionate, but genuinely loving. He still portrayed that outward display of masculinity, but when he was alone with his wife, he became a sentimental ball of mush. And when anyone mentioned the baby, he became equally nauseating (as his sister said). Julienne, of course, adored Simon and everything he did, so naturally she was not the best authority on his faults.
"Can we expect a baby for you and Roger soon?" Julienne asked her sister, who shook her head vigorously.
"Goodness no." Esme insisted. "I'm enjoying having Roger all to myself right now. He says I'm insatiable."
"Stop." Julienne said quickly, covering her eyes against the onslaught of visions of her baby sister and Roger in bed together. "I understand. You're enjoying marital life."
"Immensely." Esme beamed, sipping her lemonade.
"By God, you're a handful, aren't you?" Julienne observed, watching her sister with a touch of wonder.
"Dad always said I'm precocious." Esme laughed.
"Understatement." Julienne muttered.
A young man stepped off the train and onto the platform, refreshed from a short vacation though terribly humbled. His fair hair gleamed in the sunlight as he took in his surroundings.
He'd come home, now it was time to try and rebuild the life he'd destroyed. He simply didn't know how.
Shorter than usual, but necessary.