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Anna smiled slightly and nodded but did not speak.

Dorothy wrinkled her upper lip. “It is too much for you, is it not?”

“Perhaps a little…”

“You will get used to it. I cannot tell you what a relief it is to let go after all the solemn mourning of the past few weeks,” she said and letting go of Anna’s arm, danced on ahead, following the rest of the crowd.

Anna very much wanted to enjoy the evening which, it was clear, her sister was enjoying so much. But Dorothy had a partner to dance with and the other guests were paired off. That left only the pimply fifteen-year-old Thomas to dance with or Theodore or one of the two sisters. None of that appealed to her and she managed to find a seat in a corner where she was largely ignored for the entire evening.

Finally, by ten o’clock the dancing was still going strong when Anna could take it no more. She scooted along the wall to the entrance, disappeared upstairs and into her room, where she sighed in gratitude for the peace and quiet—except one could still hear the music from any part of the house.

* * *

The next morning Anna, feeling she must make an appearance at breakfast, braved the early dawn to appear just before seven o’clock. She put on an awake-looking face and found the dining room empty, as all the rest of the family had already breakfasted. Only a solitary droopy, wizened, footman stood by as she sat at the table and was served tea, toast and something resembling porridge. It was nice, however, to be alone after last evening’s ruckus. The only sound was the footman occasionally coughing or blowing his nose.

After breakfast, Anna went into the drawing room, but no one was there. The house was surprisingly quiet, so she surmised that perhaps the family was visiting neighbors or were out in the fields. Who knew?

Eventually, finding nothing of interest to read, she went back toward her room but decided to stop in at Dorothy’s room to see if she was awake yet.

Anna entered and found Dorothy brushing her hair at a dressing table.

“Good morning, dearest sister. What time did you finally get to bed?” Anna asked.

Dorothy looked at her as she swiveled on the dressing table bench. “Oh, Anna, it was well after midnight. And what happened to you? I looked everywhere for you but finally decided you had gone to your room.”

“That is so.”

“Did you dance withanyone?”

“Not a soul.”

Dorothy laughed and asked, “Did you save me a rasher of bacon from breakfast?”

Anna smiled. “There was none, I am afraid. Cold porridge was the best that was offered.”

“Oh, dear, I see I am going to have to take cook in hand when I become mistress of the house.”

“But that will not be for a while—at least while Theodore and Claribel are still alive.”

“Then I shall make Christopher establish our own kitchen and cook in our wing of the house.”

Anna sat at the end of Dorothy’s bed. “Are you happy?” she asked.

Her sister lowered her eyes. “Yes, I believe so. But nothing is what I expected it would be.”

“I can believe that. Your Mr. Christopher is such a gentleman. However did he come from this family?”

Dorothy laughed. “He must be a foundling.” Then she was silent for a moment before saying, “There is one thing…”

Anna became worried. “And what is that?”

“Christopher let slip while we were walking yesterday afternoon, that he was going to use part of my dowry to renovate this house. Heaven knows it needs it, but it startled me that he would so openly make plans to usemymoney without speaking to me first.”

“But, my dear, it will no longer be just your money once you are married, and you will be subject to your husband.”

Dorothy looked at her hands in her lap. “I never thought that through, I guess.”

“Does that bother you?”