She’d thought she'd leave with them. But Isaac, of course, wanted to remain.
Something about some final “discussion” with Henry and the Duke of Frayton. But Anna knew better. He was never one to leave before securing his pieces.
Behind her, in the half-packed quiet of the morning room, Gretchen was writing a letter.
“You’ll be going tomorrow, then?” she asked.
Anna nodded. “After breakfast, I think. We’ll take the long road back through Dorset.”
Gretchen smiled. “And you’ll be glad to be home?”
Anna hesitated, then offered a small wistful smile in return. “Very. I miss Heather.”
Gretchen left a few minutes later, carrying her gloves and her letters.
Anna waited until she was alone before walking to the side table, reaching for the book she’d left behind that morning.
That was when she heard the door swing open behind her.
“You look tired,” came Matthew’s voice.
She turned, spine straightening. “Lord Vaun. I was just…”
“Of course.” He closed the door gently. “I hoped I’d find you alone.”
Her shoulders tensed.
“I’d offer to help you pack,” he said, “but I imagine you’ve had enough assistance.”
“I came to speak plainly,” he said, voice mild. “It’s the last night, after all.”
Anna watched him warily.
“I’ve been meaning to speak with you properly,” he continued. “But you’ve kept yourself busy. Always in the garden. Or the library. Or being escorted from place to place.”
She said nothing.
He smiled faintly. “You’ve had a very full visit.”
Anna gave a small, polite nod. “It has been eventful.”
“I should hope so,” he said. “You've been quite... at the center of things.”
He moved closer, enough to press the air.
“We’ve had discussions, ” he said. “More than once, before the party. You remember.”
“Yes,” she said quietly.
“You were gracious. Unassuming. Quiet. And now…” He tilted his head slightly. “You’ve become something else.”
“I’ve only ever been myself,” she said.
“Have you?” he asked, his voice still light. “I know what’s happening between you and Yeats. You’re not subtle, either of you. Because I’ve seen the way you look at him. And the way he looks at you. I imagine he feels quite heroic, lifting you out of obscurity, brushing away Stenton’s shadow, claiming you before the vultures can.”
Anna said nothing. Her fingers curled tighter around the edge of the book in her hand.
He smiled faintly. “No need to be defensive. I’m not here to argue.”
