The Trouble with Anna

Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

I T WASN’T DIFFICULT FOR CHARLOTTE to convince Julian and the Dowager to return to town, especially given that the Dowager longed to get back to her orangerie and catch up on the latest developments at the Horticultural Society of London. The household packed up over the next few days, and Julian used the time to concentrate on Anna, joining her for morning gallops and then exploring Mayne and Chatham, though Anna noticed that what he liked exploring most was her mouth and neck, her sensitive earlobes, and the curve of her…

Anna’s cheeks caught fire, yet again. She spent half her time melting, and half her time squirming with embarrassment. She felt like frozen ground, in the process of a painful thawing and unsure what spring would bring.

Probably lots of mud and violent rainstorms.

And yet it was true that something had changed. She’d become the first person Julian looked for when he walked into a room. Only once their gazes connected would he go about his business, whether that was consulting with Gran, or needling Charlotte, or, increasingly, ignoring both of them to come sit down by her with mischief in mind.

Don’t be an idiot! He told you he was courting you, and it’s only because of that horrid will.

And yet there was a strange new light in his eyes.

Oh, be sensible!

Still, despite all her whirling thoughts, Anna couldn’t help a jolt of excitement as the traveling coach rolled into the outskirts of London.

“Lower the shade!” Charlotte clambered across Anna for the pull.

Anna tried to push her off. “But I want to look out the window!”

“Children, stop your squabbling!” said the Dowager. “No wonder Julian rode on ahead! It will be a great relief to get out of this coach. It’s like traveling with a pair of young jackals.”

Charlotte got hold of the pull, yanked the shade down, and plopped back into her seat triumphantly. “You’ll miss us both dreadfully before it’s time for dinner, Gran. I’d bet my pin money on it.”

Anna snaked her hand slowly toward the pull. Just as she managed to wrap her fingers around it, a sharp jab in the ribs stopped her.

“Ow!” howled Anna.

“Leave it!” said Charlotte. “And stop glaring! I’ll raise the shade at just the right moment so you see London at her grandest.”

“Charlotte, I used to live in London.”

“But not since you were a child. Let me make a fuss for you.”

Anna narrowed her eyes, prickles of suspicion crawling up her spine. Charlotte was looking positively angelic, which always meant trouble. “Why do I smell a rat?”

“I’m sure you smell hundreds. That’s London for you.”

With a dark harrumph, Anna settled back into the velvet squabs and let the coach rattle on toward the center of the city. Outside she could hear the clatter of carriage wheels against cobblestone streets, the clip-clop of passing horses, the calls of pedestrians, and the shouts of the hawkers, all combining in a low city hum that grew louder and more insistent by the minute, until even Anna’s bones began to buzz. “I would so love to see out!”

“Not long now.” Charlotte exchanged a conspiratorial look with the Dowager. “We’re almost there—the most heavenly place in all of England.”

“Oh!” Anna sat up. “Are we driving past Parliament?”

Charlotte peeked out the shade on her side. “You’ll see. Just a few minutes more.”

The carriage slowed and rattled to a stop.

A thought occurred to Anna, and she gasped. “Could it be? Oh, Charlotte! Are you taking me to Astley’s ?”

The Dowager sputtered out a laugh. “We’re certainly not taking you straight to drool over horses.”

Charlotte took the pull, paused dramatically, and yanked up the shade. “Here we are—Bond Street!”

Anna’s nose wrinkled up. “Bond Street? But that’s just a bunch of shops.”

She peered out over Charlotte’s shoulder and caught her breath. Not at the shops—there was nothing to grab her attention in the glossy storefronts—but at the frothing river of people. A group of maids, some with glowing brown faces topped by tight black curls, some Irish redheads with complexions like milk, dodged through the crowd in a chattering mass, hurrying to make good time home. A blond butcher’s boy darted across the street carrying an armful of parcels, just as a group of gentlemen sauntered around the corner with their elegant walking sticks, one sporting a small, red, squared-off hat like the one Soussi dusted off and slapped on whenever he got homesick. There were even sailors rambling by in their Royal Navy slops. A million different people working their way through a million different days, all in the few square miles that was London.

Anna shrank back from the window. “Those young ladies were staring at me!”

“Well, of course,” said Charlotte. “We’re in the Ramsay coach and everyone hopes to sneak a look at an earl. Especially a young, handsome one.”

“How rude!”

Charlotte shrugged. “I’ve been known to crane my neck for a good-looking duke.”

The Dowager patted Charlotte’s hand. “Yes, but you have no manners at all, darling. Now, where are you headed first?”

“Headed?” asked Anna blankly. “Aren’t we going straight to the house?”

The Dowager shook her head. “Charlotte has arranged for you two to pay some calls here, provided her maid accompanies you. The making of a London wardrobe doesn’t happen overnight, you know.”

“A wardrobe?” Anna’s heart dropped to her toes and began to dig. “For me?”

Charlotte grinned as wide as a crocodile. “Of course for you. Do you like my trap? Are you astonished by my cunning? There’s no way you can wiggle out of this!”

“Watch me! I’ll fight my way out of here if I have to!”

Charlotte only smiled wider. “I don’t believe you will. You see, I have a powerful ally on my side.”

“I’d like to see who you think can force me to—”

“I can,” said the Dowager calmly. “You must have an entirely new wardrobe for London. I insist upon it.”

Anna slumped into the squabs with a moan of despair.

Moments later, Anna found herself in what she could only describe as a desperately elegant drawing room. The walls were papered in a pattern of blue and white cherry blossoms with branches that arched across the room and petals painted in such detail that Anna could almost believe they fluttered. The chairs were impossibly slim and pretty, each upholstered in a different sherbet color and their legs gilded in a warm, coppery gold. They seemed to titter, perhaps in French, Are you worthy to sit on me?

Anna was afraid she knew the answer.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” she whispered anxiously.

“I’m quite sure I know Josephine’s.” Charlotte tossed herself into an apricot chair and kicked off her slippers, as her maid, Ivy, perched on the blush-pink chaise. “Get comfortable. We’ll be here awhile.”

Before Anna could reply, the far door opened and out came a slim woman in a dress of pale green. Her only ornamentations were the white frills at her neck and sleeves that set off her dark-brown skin perfectly, and a celadon ribbon winding through her close-cropped hair. The woman looked both stylish and brisk, as if wrinkles and stains took one glance at her and repented of all evil, and yet she gave off an aura of genuine, almost conspiratorial warmth. “I’ve cleared the shop as requested, Lady Charlotte. What project have you brought me today?”

“Ha!” Anna gave a dark laugh. “I’ve never been referred to as a project before.”

Charlotte patted her. “Not to your face. Josephine, may I present Lady Anna Reston?”

“How do you do?” Instead of waiting for an answer, Josephine walked around Anna in slow, measured circles.

“All the parts are there, I assure you!” Anna cried, when the examination showed no signs of stopping. “Nothing’s missing!”

Josephine emerged from her thoughts with a half-smile. “I beg your pardon, my lady. Shall we have a look in the mirror together?”

Anna allowed herself to be led over to a massive looking glass. To her left stood Josephine, neat as a pin, while to her right stood Charlotte, with hair corkscrewing out in a terrible tangle, yet somehow they both had the same gloss. It was as if they were two different species of swan, with Anna dull as a sparrow between them.

Oh god. Would Julian think she was buying new clothes for him ?

Anna sneaked a peek at the door and calculated her chances, but it was no use—not when Charlotte had her elbow in a death grip.

“What does my lady need?” asked Josephine.

Anna sighed. “I suppose I could do with one new riding habit.”

Charlotte ignored her. “Lady Anna requires a complete new wardrobe. Walking dresses, tea dresses, ball gowns, riding habits, and everything in between.”

“I won’t be in London long enough to need such a big wardrobe!”

“Anna,” Charlotte said firmly, “you have years to make up for. Years!”

“What do you have in mind, Lady Anna?” asked Josephine.

Anna stared at her blankly.

“How would you like to look?” Josephine prompted.

“Invisible!” Anna intended the remark to be flip, but it came out tumbled and rushed, like a secret that had sneaked past her teeth.

Josephine’s hand tightened sympathetically on Anna’s sleeve. “Many young women feel just the same, my lady.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes. “She does not want to look invisible. She wants to look fast.”

Ivy launched to her feet with a scandalized cry. “ Lady Charlotte! ”

“Not fast, as in fast with gentlemen, although I notice she keeps sneaking off with my brother. I meant fast, as in speed. She’s a dream on a horse, Josephine. So light and quick, such style! Anna must always look as dashing as she does when she rides.”

Josephine considered, then gave a brisk nod. “Yes. I see it.”

“I don’t!” cried Anna.

“No lace, I think,” said Josephine. “Pleats, but not a single flounce. Perhaps the odd ribbon, but never a bow. Shako hats, braids, buttons, a plume or two, as many capes and pelisses as I can make. Military precision in every cut and detail. I see it most clearly! We must have a look at my fabrics.”

She disappeared through the door again, leaving Anna to confront the awful glare of her reflection.

Charlotte caught Anna’s expression and her smirk fell away. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“It doesn’t seem like nothing.”

“Braids, buttons, capes? Charlotte, do I look that much a man?” Tears crawled up Anna’s throat and she shrugged. “Never mind. Do your worst.”

“What are you on about?”

Anna shook her head, trying to shake the tears away. “You dressed me not long ago, remember? Your country dance at Mayne.”

“What, that? I only had a moment to snatch up a gown for you, and I chose the wrong one. With the right wardrobe, you’ll—”

Anna shut her eyes tightly. “It’s not the wardrobe. It’s me.”

“Oh, enough !” Charlotte grabbed Anna by the shoulders. “Look at yourself. What do you see?”

“I see myself! Standing next to a horrible bully.”

“Look at your face.”

“I know my own face!”

Pointy. Plain. A forgettable face. The mirror said such mean things to her. Do you really think a man like Julian could care for a woman like you?

Charlotte shook Anna, hard enough that her teeth clicked. “It’s clear that you don’t. Look! Find your best features and like them. Look at your eyebrows, for instance.”

“Ha! Even you must admit my eyebrows are strange.”

“Yes! Wonderfully dramatic and unusual. I’m desperately jealous of them. You mustn’t pick apart your face, Anna. You must adore it.”

Josephine returned, followed by two assistants carrying bolt after bolt of fabric. They laid their bundles down only to march back for fresh armfuls, filling the room until Anna began to wonder if they planned to dress her or to smother her under the teetering piles. There were watered silks, billowing cottons, and muslins shot through with gold and silver. One length of green velvet beckoned lush and deep, soft as the muzzle of a newborn foal beneath Anna’s furtive finger.

“Ooo, yes!” Charlotte snatched the velvet up. “Perfect!”

Anna closed her eyes and swallowed hard, yearning for her grotty old trunk with the slightly dingy fabrics from the village, the dresses a bit too big or a bit too small, the practical buttons and the rare halfhearted flounce. Her clothes waved the white flag at the world. They announced: NO NEED TO LOOK ANY CLOSER. THANK YOU AND GOOD DAY!

Charlotte, waist-deep in samples now, conferred happily with Josephine, examining feathers and snatching up frogging. They got into a rhythm, cooing over certain bolts, casting others aside, and holding length after length of fabric up against Anna until she began to feel like a wall in need of papering. When they began to debate the merits of what looked to Anna like two identical black buttons, she reached her limit.

“ Charlotte! If I see another scrap of fabric, or measuring tape, or, god help me, even the tiniest pin, I will—”

“Pish! We’ve only just begun.” Charlotte stretched, catlike and pleased. “How long have we been here, Ivy?”

The maid glanced up from her own pile. “Only three hours, my lady.”

“Why, that’s nothing! We can’t possibly put together a whole new wardrobe in such a short time. Perhaps you’d like a nice cup of tea?”

“No!”

“I could send Ivy out for petit fours?”

Anna’s glare was her answer.

“Be reasonable!” cried Charlotte. “We haven’t discussed gloves, hats, or scarves, let alone slippers.” She thought a moment. “Josephine, do you think Locke’s for walking boots and Lampard & Hellers for slippers, or—”

Anna felt her face flood with color. “ I will take these pins and— ”

“Oh, all right!” She turned to Josephine. “When might we expect the first of the new dresses?”

“We can run up a morning dress in a week or so.” Josephine dropped her voice. “I assume Lord Ramsay will stand the charges.”

“The bill comes to me,” Anna cried.

“Don’t be daft,” said Charlotte. “I’ll slip the bill in with one of mine and no one will know the difference.”

“ I will! I control the estate for a few more months and the least Chatham can do is buy me a wardrobe.”

Charlotte shrugged. “You’ll regret that when the bill arrives, but never mind. Oh, Josephine, the first gown in just a week or so. I can hardly wait!”