This is what she wanted to give Becky for the rest of her life. Security and happiness. Things that a cut of Wild’s money could buy. And maybe now, with the secrets Nic had left for her, she might find a way to earn even more. Ideas flashed through her head, but she needed to think them through before she did anything rash. There might be a way to get everything she needed.
“Are you ready to get dressed, miss? Breakfast will be starting soon. You needn’t worry about Mr. Graeden,” Becky chattered as she helped Arista into her day dress. “I heard him tell Wilson that he went back to his ship. That there were things he needed to attend to.”
Arista’s spirits sank. A part of her had hoped that he might understand in the light of day. With a heavy sigh, she sat as Becky started tending to her hair. It had gotten longer since the last time Nic cut it. Small curls hugged her neck and framed her face. Becky had pinned up a small section in the front, pulling the hair away from Arista’s eyes. Had they always been so blue?
“You look beautiful, miss.”
She looked…very much unlike herself. Arista missed the rough feel of her wool trousers and the comfort of her oversized jacket, which gave her the anonymity she craved. Things with Grae would not be in such a state of discord, had she been allowed to keep up her disguise. But she couldn’t go around dressed as a lad when she was the guest of a family.
Becky led her down the short hallway and opened the door. Arista stepped into the room and everything went silent. Three pairs of eyes were staring at her. Had Grae told his family about her?
“Good morning, Ana,” Marguerite said graciously. “Please come in and join us.” Arista tried desperately to remain calm. It appeared he had not.
Arista sat in the chair Wilson pulled out for her. She had avoided taking meals with the family so far, unsure of how to act in such a civilized and normal setting. Becky had taught her the graces of a lady, but they did not include dining.
Heat climbed her cheeks, and she didn’t dare look up from her plate. But what she saw there only caused her more unease. There were so many utensils. Why did anyone need three forks to eat, when one would suffice?
Arista curled her fingers into her palms and held her hands in her lap to hide the trembling. She could stare down grown men, yet facing a table setting put the fear of the devil in her. If she wasn’t so terribly uneasy, she might have laughed at the absurdity. Nic would have laughed. He would have declared all of this as pompous as hell, tossed the utensils aside, and eaten with his fingers. It wasn’t like they’d had the luxury of eating with anything but their fingers growing up.
“How are you this morning, Ana? Are you feeling better?” Sophia asked. She sat across from Arista and looked bright as sunshine in a pale yellow dress. “Maybe after breakfast we can sit in the garden and gossip? You can tell me what goes on outside of London! Father never lets Grae tell me tales of his adventures.” Sophia playfully poked her father, who held up his hands in surrender.
“Those tales are not for the ears of young ladies.” Mr. Sinclair smiled at Arista. “Last year, Sophia dressed herself as a boy and snuck onto one of my ships, under the guise of a new cabin boy. They were halfway down the Thames before she was discovered.”
Innocent-looking Sophia had done that? Arista’s mouth fell open, and Sophia giggled. “I wanted a grand escapade, like in the books I’ve read.”
“Never should have taught the girl to read,” Mr. Sinclair said, though there was nothing but love in his smile.
“That’s enough,” Marguerite chided with a smile. “We have a guest at our table. Ana, what are your plans? Will you stay in London after your visit?”
“I don’t think so,” she answered. Finally, one truth in the sea of lies. “As soon as things are…settled…I plan to leave with Becky.” She knew that they would assume what would be “settled” was her late husband’s estate, and not her business with Wild. Mr. Sinclair nodded and smiled at her explanation, but she could feel his assessing gaze.
“Where will you go?” Sophia asked. Her eyes were wide with excitement. “I’ve always wanted to travel, to see the world.”
“I’m not sure,” she lied. Why was she keeping her dream of going to India a secret? Would it matter if they knew?
“Perhaps we can discuss all of the places, and I can help you decide,” Sophia said.
“That would be fun.” Except she already knew where she wanted to go, and had hoped that it would be with Grae, on one of his ships. That might be difficult if he continued to avoid her.
Wilson set a covered dish in front of her and Arista seized upon the interruption. She dug her fork into a steaming meat-filled pastry and concentrated on taking a bite. It still made her uneasy, talking about getting away from London—even in the relative safety of the Sinclairs’ home.