Someone to Love

“You must not fear that it will be impossible to be brought up to snuff, Anastasia,” she had assured Anna. “You have a face and figure that can be made presentable enough with a little work. It was decided while you were gone that it will be best if you do not wear mourning for your father. It would not be to your advantage to be wearing black when you are introduced to the ton. With the help of some tutors you will learn enough of the essentials of polite behavior not to disgrace either yourself or your family. And all except the highest sticklers will make allowances for any minor slips. Indeed, there will be some who will be charmed by them.”

At that point, Anna had glanced at the duke, who had stayed to escort his stepmother home, but he had merely looked bored. Just as though he had not tried to shock her earlier by telling her he might well fall in love with her. Just as though he had not then gone on to give her a choice—Shall we walk on? Or shall I kiss you?

The man gave her the shudders. No, to be honest it would be more accurate to say he gave her the shivers, for despite all his affectations, all the strange things he said, all the glittering splendor of his person, she had been well nigh suffocated all the time they had been in the park by the aura of power and sheer masculinity he seemed to exude. Having to take his arm—she had never taken anyone’s arm before, not even Joel’s—and walk close to his side had been one of the severest trials of her life.

And the worst—oh, the very worst—moment of that walk had come when he had given her the choice of being kissed or walking on, and her body had reacted quite independently of her mind. She had never come so close to losing control over the feminine needs she had been aware of since she was fourteen or fifteen but firmly quelled. She had wondered during that glance at him when they were back at the house what would have happened if she had chosen the kiss. Would he not have been shocked! She was quite, quite sure, though, that he would have kissed her—and her knees had felt wobbly at the very thought.

“We will all return here tomorrow,” her aunt had gone on to say. “In the meantime, you will have Elizabeth for company and conversation. Listen to her, Anastasia. You can learn much from her.”

But instead of spending the evening in conversation, Anna had excused herself to write letters, and Elizabeth had written some of her own.

You must miss your friends, Elizabeth had just said.

“I hope,” Anna said, “I will have a new friend in you.” Elizabeth had explained that she was a widow and lived with her mother and brother, Cousin Alexander, the new Earl of Riverdale.

“Oh, you will,” Elizabeth assured her. “Poor Anastasia. How very bewildering all this must be for you. Even your name has changed. Would you prefer that I call you Anna?”

“If you please,” Anna said. “I know I am Anastasia, but I do not feel like her. You see? I even think of her and talk of her in the third person.”

They both laughed. It was surely the first time she had laughed since before she left Bath, Anna thought.

“Then perhaps,” Elizabeth said, “you will call me Lizzie, as my close family members and friends do.”

“I will.” Anna smiled at her.

“My cousins—your grandmother and your aunts—can be a trifle overbearing,” Elizabeth said. “I do not believe you will allow yourself to be overborne—I sense that you are of firm character—but they will try very hard to change everything about you until they have fashioned you into the person they believe Lady Anastasia Westcott ought to be. Bear with them if you can, Anna. They mean well, and you must remember that you are as new to them as they are to you. Until yesterday they had no inkling that you even existed. I believe your grandmama in particular is determined to love you.”

Anna watched Elizabeth cross the drawing room. “Oh, Lizzie,” she said, “you can have no idea what it feels like to have a grandmother and other relatives.”

“Forgive me for taking liberties in your house,” Elizabeth said, pulling on the bell rope beside the hearth, “but I think we are both ready for a cup of tea and some light supper.”

“This is your house too,” Anna said. “You have left your mother and brother to come and stay here with me for a while. I am very grateful. I would hate to be alone.”

“Alex really feels for you,” Elizabeth told her. “He too has been thrust into an unfamiliar role he did not expect and has never coveted. But he has always had a strong sense of duty. He will shoulder all the responsibilities of the earldom along with the title. Poor Alex. The burden will be a heavy one.”

Anna wondered in what way it would be heavy. “Are you hinting that I too should shoulder the burden of my duty?” she asked.

But Elizabeth merely laughed. “Oh, goodness me, no,” she said. “I have come here to offer you companionship and even cousinly affection, Anna. I will help you all I can to feel more comfortable in your new identity. I will even offer opinions when you solicit them. But I will not preach at you. That is not what friends do.”

“Thank you,” Anna said.

But the tea tray arrived at that moment together with plates of thinly sliced bread and butter and cheese and currant cakes.

“I wonder,” Anna said as they ate, “if the Duke of Netherby has found my brother yet.”

“If he has not,” Elizabeth said, “he surely will, and he will take care of him. I know Avery likes to give the impression that he is the ultimate in affected, indolent dandyism. Alex takes the outer appearance for reality and considers him irresponsible and heartily disapproves of him. But there is something about Avery—I believe it is in his eyes—that would make me turn to him with the utmost confidence if I ever found myself in difficulties and Alex was not at hand. He has kept Harry on the loosest of reins, I have heard, but nevertheless the reins have been there.”