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19
Three weeks. It had been three weeks since he last saw her. But the last time, he really had seen her, more of her than they should have allowed. But he gave her space- he could feel that she needed it, and in all honesty he did too. He didn't know what to think. Still.
He had almost been involved, almost known what was happening. But he was pushed out again. John had a feeling that Ana would be in the same situation. She would always understand.
So, finally, he stood by her door, not bothered by the fact that it could be her sister or aunt or even the priest who opened the door. He didn't care about their reactions.
Until Tatiana slid it open and almost barked out a laugh as her eyes fell to his face.
"Back for seconds?" She drawled, her gaze both disapproving and full of humour.
He bit back a growl at her insinuation and before he could reply, she held the door open further.
"The library."
He didn't bother saying anything back, and instead brushed past walking through the hallway to the back door behind the stairs. The gold accents of the walls seemed to gleam, even in the dull lamplight, as if guiding him to her. John knew the way already. He had met her there, once.
He knocked, letting out a deep breath. How had he thought this would be a good idea? It took ounces of strength to keep his feet glued to the floor, to stop him turning in his heels and running for the door.
But he remembered what Tommy had said: "Say it how it is, eh, John. You want to know what you're getting into.". He had been right. He did want to know. He wanted to know whether he was risking too much for a woman who would bite him on the back as soon as it was necessary. He wanted to know whose side she was on. He wanted to know that he wasn't doing the worst thing anyone could possibly think of. But he wouldn't speak of that.
Ana opened the door swiftly, ready to glare at the housekeeper for the second time that day. But Mrs Barker was incredibly short, and as she stared down to where her face should have been, her sharp eyes were met with a smart jacket. A man's jacket.
She narrowed her eyes as she glanced to see his face, unsurprised.
Why are you here? What do you want?
Ana didn't need to say what she was thinking to receive an answer from John Shelby. That didn't mean it would be a good one, though.
"I came to see you."
He stepped into the room after her, shutting the door behind to the only familiar room in the house. She had been alone, a book bent and resting on the edge of the seat by the window.
