“And that cousin of yours,” her father had continued. “She is in the paper now, in the columns, in an article about her sordid company. You spoke not a word to her? You swear it?”
“I swear it, Father,” Anna had replied bitterly, moving her scrambled eggs around her plate. “I did not see Alicia but on the stage.”
In that regard, Anna did not feel like she was lying. The distant, panicked woman she had met backstage had not felt like her cousin at all. Alicia’s career was the most important thing in the world to her. Anna could only imagine how hard it was to maintain her renown as a woman when all of England seemed to scorn her. So, even though Alicia’s cold rejection had hurt, Anna tried her best to forgive her.
For all intents and purposes, it seemed that she and Alicia had gotten away with their ruse. Margaret had excused her convincingly, and neither Lady Jane nor her friends had questioned her disappearance. Though someonehadmentioned seeing George with a few friends when they had gotten to their box.
Which lends credence to the scarred stranger’s story about him knowing George and recognizing me. But I do not know him at all. If the stranger told anyone that he saw me, it would not take long for rumors to spread about my disappearance—and the ton could come up with any number of salacious stories to explain it. So far, it seems like he hasn’t said anything.
She had barely slept that night, searching her memories for that formidable face. He was undeniably handsome despite the scar, with eyes the color of blue ice and hair that was dark like coal. He had the sort of aquiline nose that usually made her swoon.
But the way he had looked at her with superiority, as if he knew something that she didn’t, had left a sour taste in her mouth. When he had pushed her into that dark recess, he had awoken a terrible mix of pleasant and distressing feelings inside her—even though he had pushed her there to protect her reputation.
“If he is George’s friend, he cannot be a very good friend,” she whispered to herself, gazing across the garden. “Or else I would have recognized him too. Perhaps he was merely an acquaintance, and we will be like ships that crossed paths in the night, never to meet again.”
Convincing herself of that much, she rose from the steps and dusted off the back of her velvet evening gown. Her cheeks stung from the cold, and she breathed a cloud into the air, delaying her return inside for as long as possible. It was almost dark outside, and Downy Fields glowed with warm light in the distance.
A voice cut through the silence, shouting, “Annnnaaaa!” from the terrace behind the manor.
She turned around to see George waving from afar. Gathering her skirts, she rushed up the garden to meet him, smiling like a fool at the sight of her beloved cousin—second only in her heart to Alicia.
“You could have come and said hello when you arrived,” George said with a smile as she embraced him. He wore an exquisite outfit that evening, with a sage green waistcoat that matched the color of his eyes. “It is my birthday after all, lest you’d forgotten. And a man can’t suffer being ignored on his birthday.”
Anna smiled, grabbing his cold hands and squeezing them. “Happy Birthday, George,” she chirped, rising on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.
“How your affection warms me on this terribly cold night,” he drawled, grinning down at her before resuming their walk. “Why are you outside? It’s freezing.”
“I came out for air, chilling though it may be. Father insisted we arrive half an hour early so that he could oversee the final preparations for the evening, like always. I thought I’d get out of his way,” Anna replied, grabbing his arm as they walked toward the French doors on the terrace. “The butler said you were upstairs, getting ready for dinner. And I know how long it takes you to style your hair. I hope you aren’t terribly offended that I didn’t seek you out first.”
“Judging by your father’s mood today, I dare say you made the right choice. I like your father. You know I do. But I will never be happy with the way he treats you. If you feel you need a break tonight?—”
“Are you offering me the use of your library again?”
Anna laughed when George did, recalling their last dinner party at Downy Fields. George had strategically gotten her father drunk, allowing her to slip away to the library and lose herself in a Radcliffe novel.
“Usually, I would agree without question to an offer like that. But Father has been tireless as of late. I can’t risk getting on his bad side. There is talk of marrying me off again. But isn’t there always?”
“Hmm. Yet he can’t be that cross with you,” George said, pausing inside the doors. The warm air inside the manor enveloped her—until a chill shot through her bones at his next words. “I caught Uncle Magnus just before I came searching for you. He told me he had permitted you to attendTancredilast night as well.”
Anna prayed she had misheard. The innocent glimmer in George’s eyes told her that she had not.
So, hehadbeen there with that friend of his. Had his friend told him about their encounter in the hallway? It stood to reason that he had not, unless George was playing with her on purpose, waiting for her to slip up and tell him the truth.
“No,” she blurted out, before realizing how stupid the lie was. She needed to compose herself, and quickly, unless she revealed everything. “I mean, yes, I did go to see Alicia perform. Did you… Did you not know?”
George shook his head, continuing through the house. “Not ahead of time. I met some friends of yours on my way to our box, and they said you had retired ahead of the show with an… upset stomach.” He cleared his throat, and Anna inwardly bemoaned the excuse Margaret had used for her.
“I would have offered to chaperone alongside Lady Jane if Magnus had told me earlier. I was with a group of my friends, though I wasn’t able to inspire much interest in them for the opera, not in the way you can. You should have said something, written to me—we could have joined groups.”
Anna nodded, hoping she didn’t look as anxious as she felt. While it was safer not to ask questions, she couldn’t help herself. “I see. The girls did mention something about seeing you, but the timing must not have been right for us to meet… Who were they? These friends you attended the opera with?”
By that point, they had almost reached the entrance hall, where her parents and the first guests awaited, given the cacophony of voices beyond. Anna stopped in her tracks, forcing George to stop too.
“Well, Stockton was there, of course,” he explained. “Though it took some convincing to get him to attend. You know how Simon is when it comes to the arts.” He paused, looking through the archway to the entrance hall. The wait for his next reply was torturous. “My other friend… I don’t suppose you remember the Duke of Wells?”
For the life of her, Anna did not. There were many dukes in London, but she had socialized with none of them.
“I hadn’t known you were friends with any dukes. You’d think that’s something you would have mentioned.”
