Dickie merely grinned. “I am afraid I do not know you well enough to tease you, whoever you are. Though, I would ask what you have done with my sister.”
“You look beautiful,” Max agreed, offering his arm.
Anna looked to Percival, waiting for his cutting remark or damning mockery. But he just stared, as if he could not look away. His mouth had fallen open, his eyes wide, as frozen as the statues lining the driveway. An act before the mockery began? She could not be certain.
“Anna!” a voice cried from the entrance of the grand manor house. “It is as perfect as I hoped! Oh, you are majestic! A princess among frogs!”
Anna whirled around, smiling from ear to ear as she saw Beatrice running down the steps toward her. The older woman swept her into a fierce embrace, and Anna hugged her back in kind, Beatrice’s enthusiasm chasing away any fears that still bristled within her.
For once, shedidfeel beautiful.
* * *
It seemed that all anyone could talk about was Anna and that dress, even as the guests were all seated for dinner at the longest dinner table Percy had ever seen. Between courses—which seemed never ending—there was a constant stream of people coming over to compliment Anna on her attire, though he could not understand the interest. Yes, she looked radiant, ethereal, otherworldly, magnificent, but now that everyone had seen the gown, he had assumed the fascination would die down.
I thought Max said she retreated into herself among strangers.But Percy had been watching her from his seat opposite her, and she did not seem at all shy and retiring.
“All of the plaudits should go to the countess,” Anna said to the latest round of curious guests. “She asked me to wear it, and I could not refuse.”
“Well, you look remarkable,” said a woman that Percy did not know, hanging onto the arm of an equally unfamiliar gentleman. “Does she not, Brother?”
The man smiled. “She does.”
The arrival of the next course—some manner of fish, decorated with thin lemon slices—ushered the pair back to their own seats. Percy opened his mouth to add his own opinion to the occasion, when a different voice got in ahead of him.
“If you do not wish to be bothered anymore, let me know, and I shall begin a song or I shall spill something as a diversion.”
Percy’s eyes darted to the gentleman seated beside Anna. He knew the man in passing as Simon Lockhart, the Earl of Luminport. They had both been to Eton together, but Simon had been a few years below him, so he could not profess to know him well.
Anna’s cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. “I could not ask you to embarrass yourself on my behalf, My Lord.”
“Ah, so you haveheard of my infamous singing abilities?” Simon replied, his cheeks as pink as hers.
To Percy’s shock, Anna hid her mouth behind her hand and laughed. “I was referring to the spillage, of course. Believe me, no one could sing as badly as me. You are likely operatic in comparison.”
“I have been likened to angry goats and warring cats,” Simon said, his eyes admiring Anna’s face.
She laughed again, the sound stirring up the most peculiar feeling in Percy’s chest—something between envy and disapproval.
“Mysinging tutor lasted a week before she marched out, declaring she had never encountered anyone who could so consistently hit the opposite of every note,” Anna insisted, the radiance of her gown somehow transferring to her very being.
Simon chuckled, though his posture was awkward. “How can it be that we have never met before?”
“I am a master of disguise.” Anna smiled, her eyes so bright that Percy wondered how Simon had not lost himself in them. “The next time we meet, you will ask me that again, for you will not recognize me.”
Simon shook his head. “Impossible, Lady Anna.”
Concentrating on the fish course, though he lacked much appetite, Percy blocked out the conversations of those around him. It was no business of his what Anna and Simon talked about, and he figured it could only be a good thing if she was finding her confidence among strangers at last. Max would certainly be pleased if she found herself a husband, at last.
That second course is disagreeing with me, nothing more,he told himself, applying what logic he could to the unsettled sensation in the pit of his stomach.
He managed to get through two more courses while indulging in banal conversation with the guests seated on either side of him, paying no attention whatsoever to the near-constant chatter that was coming from Anna and Simon. He would have been content to continue that way, had he not heard Simon mention something.
“I think this matchmaker ought to be rewarded by the Royal Court for their services,” Simon said, sipping his drink. “I am a good friend of Viscount Marchmont, and I have never seen him so happy.”
Percy did not know what had begun that avenue of conversation, but he leaned into it, curious to hear another gentleman’s perspective.
“We all thought he would never be happy again, in truth, so I am, perhaps, biased,” Simon continued. “That being said, my friend is not the only one to have found joy because of this matchmaker. More of that, I say—more of joy and love in society.”
