She stared at him, as though through a long tunnel. “How do you know?” Her voice came out almost as a whisper.
“I would like to be able to say that I have been on a long and dangerous odyssey throughout the length and breadth of England and Wales, slaying a few dragons along the way, on a quest to discover your maternal forebears,” he said. “Alas, you would suspect I was lying. My secretary dug up the information. He claims it was not difficult. He pursued the search through the church, which found one lowly vicar for him just as though the man had never been lost. And indeed he had not been. It is difficult to get lost if one remains in the same place for fifty years.”
“They are alive?” She was still whispering. “My grandparents?” She clasped her hands tightly to her mouth and smiled radiantly at him. “Oh, thank you. Thank you, Avery.”
“I shall pass on your gratitude to Edwin Goddard,” he told her.
“Please do,” she said. “But he would not have thought of making the search all on his own. Why did you ask him to do so?”
He took his snuffbox out of a pocket, gazed absently at it, and put it away again. “You see, Anna,” he said. “I increased his salary a short while ago, and then I had the alarming thought that perhaps I did not make enough of an effort to see that he earned it. I made an effort and thought of the Reverend Snow.”
“How absurd,” she said.
He looked up at her, his eyes keen. “Remember, Anna,” he said, “that they had you taken away after your mother died and apparently showed no further interest in you.”
The door opened behind him at that moment and Elizabeth hurried inside.
“I am so sorry,” she said. “I stepped on the hem of my dress just as I was leaving my dressing room and tore it. I had to change into something else. And then there was all the bother— Oh, no matter. How do you do, Avery?”
“I am delighted,” he said, raising his glass to his eye, “that you were forced to change into this particular dress, Elizabeth. You look ravishing.”
“Oh,” she said, laughing, “and so do you, Avery, as always. I believe we are about to be invaded. I heard a carriage draw up outside as I was leaving my room.”
Within fifteen minutes everyone had arrived and disposed themselves about the drawing room, Alexander as usual standing before the hearth, Avery seated in a corner beyond the window, not participating in the general conversation.
The conversation itself had taken a predictable course. The ball had been triumphantly pronounced the greatest squeeze of the Season so far. Anastasia’s debut had been a success. If there had been a hundred sets in the evening, Aunt Mildred declared, Anastasia would have had a partner for each one. Some ladies had been heard to remark upon the plainness of her appearance, Aunt Louise said, but a few of the most fashionable young ladies, most notably that diamond of the first water, Miss Edwards, had been heard to declare in a huddle together that they were tired of being so loaded down with jewels and of having to catch up trains and flounces whenever they wished to dance and of sitting for an hour or longer each evening while their maids curled and crimped their hair. How refreshing it would be, they had said, to appear in public as Lady Anastasia Westcott had—if only they dared.
Anastasia’s Great Indiscretion—Aunt Matilda spoke of it as though the words must begin with capital letters—might well have been her undoing, and certainly there were those among the highest sticklers who had been shocked. But they appeared to be in the minority. Others applauded the way she had stood by her illegitimate half sister and dealt Viscount Uxbury a severe setdown.
“You have been launched upon society with great success, Anastasia,” Cousin Althea said with a warm smile. “Now you may relax and enjoy the rest of the Season.”
Everyone was ecstatic over the number of bouquets that had been delivered yesterday and this morning. They were amazed and gratified to hear of the number of persons who had called yesterday afternoon and of the drive in the park with the Fleming brothers.
“I think, Anastasia,” the dowager countess said, smiling kindly at her granddaughter, “we may expect more than a few very eligible offers for your hand before the end of the Season.”
“But there was already one this morning, Cousin Eugenia,” Elizabeth said. “At least, it was not exactly an offer, was it, Anna, but a request to know to what gentleman he must apply for permission to make one. I directed him to you, Alex, though Anna is of age and does not need anyone’s permission. She was looking somewhat aghast, however, and I came to her rescue.”
“Thank you, Lizzie,” he said dryly. “Formsby, was it? He found me at Tattersall’s. I informed him, as I informed another gentleman last evening and two more this morning, that I would discuss the matter with Anastasia’s family and with her.”