“I am surprised,” the earl said, “that you are not out searching for him, Netherby. I would do it myself, but under the circumstances I would expect to be the very last person he would wish to see. Perhaps the obligation you feel toward him is more irksome now that he is no longer Riverdale.”
Elizabeth turned her head to regard her brother reproachfully. The Duke of Netherby appeared quite unruffled, Anna saw, but she was not surprised to see that he had his quizzing glass to his eye. What an affectation that was. She would be very surprised to learn that he suffered from poor vision. Yet the glass somehow made him appear doubly dangerous.
“Had you been paying greater attention, Riverdale, though really, why should you?” he said softly, “you might have noticed that I never run about searching for lost puppies when it is altogether probable I will end up chasing my own tail instead and looking foolish. Nor do I interfere with very young blades sowing wild oats. I am no one’s maiden aunt. As for seeking out a young man who thinks it a rollicking good lark to have lost everything he ever believed to be his, including the legitimacy of his birth, no, it will not happen. It will be time enough to find him when he has stopped laughing, as he will.”
Anna felt chilled by the bored hauteur of his voice, and by his words. The Earl of Riverdale did not reply, but it occurred to Anna, even from this brief exchange, that there was no love lost between the two men.
“Please do not distress yourself, Cousin,” the earl said, regarding Anna steadily. “You must put young Harry, and Camille and Abigail too, from your mind, at least for a while. They are all deeply upset and not inclined to look kindly upon you, even though they are well aware that you are quite blameless and indeed more sinned against than sinning. It will be some time before they can be induced to recognize any relationship to you. Give them that time if you will.”
Both his words and the look on his face were kind, but the words hurt anyway.
“Alexander is quite right,” the dowager said. “Turn right around, Anastasia.” Anna turned. “You do not have much of a figure, but at least you are slender. And stays will do wonders for your bosom. I do not suppose you have ever worn stays?”
Anna could feel heat in her cheeks. Goodness, there were men present. “No, Grandmama,” she said.
“It will all be taken care of, starting tomorrow,” the duchess said briskly. “We must decide too what tutors will be necessary—a dancing master, certainly, and a teacher of etiquette, and perhaps others too. In the meantime, you must not even think of venturing from the house, Anastasia. Elizabeth will keep you company indoors. Now, have a seat—you have been standing long enough. Matilda, pull on the bell rope for the tea tray, if you will.”
Anna sat at almost the same moment as the Duke of Netherby got to his feet and strolled across the room to stand before her chair. Everyone fell silent, as everyone always seemed to do whenever he as much as raised a finger or an eyebrow. He regarded her in silence for a few moments with those keen, sleepy eyes.
“Anna,” he said, startling her with the use of the name by which she knew herself, “the sun is shining and the fresh air and Hyde Park beckon. If you accompany me there, there is a risk that the ton may catch a glimpse of an apparent governess with me and draw its own conclusions as to your identity. The ton may then proceed to fall into a collective swoon of shock, or it may scurry off to report the sighting to those less fortunate, or it may simply go on its way and about its own business. Knowing all this, would you care to come with me?”
Anna bit her lip to stop herself from laughing nervously, so unexpectedly bizarre were his words.
“Is this wise, Netherby?” Uncle Thomas asked. “Louise has just been pointing out—”
The Duke of Netherby neither turned his head nor replied. “Anna?” he said softly.
He was like some alien creature. She was not frightened of him. Never that. In fact, she had just been amused by him. But . . . well, far more than any of the other people in the room, he seemed to epitomize a universe so different from her own that there could be no possibility of any meaningful communication. Why would he wish to walk with her, to risk being seen with her—an apparent governess?
But . . . fresh air? And a temporary escape from this room and all the other people in it?
“Thank you,” she said. “That would be pleasant.”
“Mother,” Aunt Matilda said. “Anastasia must not be allowed to do this. Louise is quite right. Oh, this is not welldone of you, Avery.”
“If you must go, someone ought to go with you as a chaperone, Anastasia,” the earl suggested. “Lizzie, perhaps you would be willing?”
“Ah, but you see, Cousin Elizabeth,” the duke said softly, his eyes still upon Anna’s, “you are not invited.”
The lady in question smiled at the back of his head, merriment in her eyes, Anna noticed.
“My granddaughter does not need a chaperone when she steps out with the Duke of Netherby,” the dowager countess said. “His father married my daughter, did he not? And Avery is quite right. We cannot keep Anastasia indoors here until she is ready. She may never be ready.”
Seven