The Trouble with Anna

Chapter 40

CHAPTER 40

A NNA PRESSED HER HANDS AGAINST her cheeks. They were flaming, just as she suspected. Every part of her was warm or sore or oddly bendy, as if her body had gone lazy.

She snuggled deeper into the bed—her bed, unfortunately—and squashed a pillow over her head.

Go to sleep!

She certainly hadn’t slept last night, not after the first time. Or the slow and aching second time. Definitely not after the frantic third time, pulling off the clothes they’d just pulled on, racing against the rising sun.

Sleep! Sleep! SLEEP!

Light streamed in the room, even through the thick damask curtains. The pillow was no help. She needed something stronger, a mallet to whack her thoughts away.

Anna flopped down on her side. It was useless. Her happiness would not be squashed. How could it when there was the oddest ache between her legs and her insides felt jiggly, as if her bones had turned into bubbles?

It wasn’t safe to be so happy. Except possibly about a horse, although even horses could break your heart. Anna yanked the pillow off her head and held it tight.

The door cracked open to reveal a froth of white lace and dark curls that tumbled wildly, like a mass of bouncing black question marks.

“Anna! Psst! Are you awake?” Charlotte whispered.

Blast. The Inquisition had arrived. Anna held herself perfectly still. Perhaps if Charlotte thought she was sleeping—

“Anna! Wake up! ”

Anna laughed, turning over and presenting her back to the door. “Go away!”

Charlotte barreled into the room, her cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk’s with everything she burst to say. “Anna, we’re rich! I’m reeling! I’ll never complain to Gran about your boring horse stories again!”

Anna sat up. “You complain about how boring I am?”

Charlotte ignored her. “What a party last night! I saw Gran in the orangerie with Mr. Frith. Kissing! At her age, the saucepot! I tiptoed over for a better look when who should haul me off my feet? His Grace, the Duke of Warrick himself! Oh, he was in a fit, lecturing on and on about…” Charlotte frowned. “I’m not sure, actually. He’s so large , you know, and he was so deliciously ruffled and brooding that I got quite distracted. So I said, ‘How dare you, sir!’—such a useful little phrase, good for all occasions—and flounced off, shooting him the filthiest looks over my shoulder. Oh, I never had so much fun! Now, you and my brother.” Charlotte dragged in a gulp of air. “Tell. Me. Everything.”

Anna flopped back and yanked the covers over her head. Charlotte hopped on the bed and burrowed in after her. “You can’t escape. I want to know everything .”

“It’s private,” muttered Anna.

“Ooh, promising! Did you—”

The door cracked open again.

“Darlings, are you in here?” said the Dowager.

Charlotte threw back the covers and sat up. “Yes, join us! We’re just getting to the good stuff.”

The Dowager, her white hair tied back in a loose braid, tiptoed over to the bed and perched herself lightly on it. “Charlotte, really! Have you been dashing about the house in your night shift? You’ll give the footmen an eyeful.”

Charlotte looked at her steadily. “Gran, you are also in your night shift.”

“I most certainly am not—” The Dowager looked down at herself and yelped. “Oh! How ridiculous! Never mind. Anna! I want to hear all about your evening.”

“ Everything ,” Charlotte said again. The little ghoul.

But Anna shook her head. Words were slippery little traitors at the best of times. She couldn’t possibly trust them with how she was feeling. Not now. Not with everything so bursting and new.

Charlotte frowned. “Right, Gran. Give me five minutes alone with her. She’ll crack like a walnut.”

“No! Wait! OOF! For god’s sake, Charlotte, get off me.”

“Well?” Charlotte demanded when Anna elbowed her way free.

“Well?” The Dowager leaned forward as if she might be next to pounce.

Anna eyed them and a smile sneaked up on her. Should she tell them? She wanted to hold the news tight, slither over it like a dragon with its gold. Joy should be hoarded, shouldn’t it? Except that was her old life, and perhaps she didn’t need to cling so tightly anymore.

More important, Charlotte looked fit to burst and the Dowager was about to topple over. She loved them and she wanted them to know.

“Julian asked me to marry him!” Anna braced herself for the squeals.

Charlotte frowned. “Of course he has. Only about a million times. He’s made quite a habit of it, from what I can tell.”

Anna smiled again, so wide she thought her face might split. “But you see—this time I said yes.”

“ OOH! ” yelled Charlotte, and tackled her.

“ OUCH! ” yelped Anna, and tackled her right back.

“ OH! ” yowled the Dowager, and burst into such noisy tears that both young women, tumbling across the bed like puppies, sat up straight.

“Gran?” Charlotte said gently.

Anna’s face went blank. “I thought you wanted—”

“I do! I do!” the Dowager howled. “So badly! Darling girl, if only you knew. I prayed and prayed you’d both see sense. I’ve been so worried for him.”

“For him ?!” cried Charlotte, dashing the hair off her face.

“ Of course for him! Any fool can see Anna will be fine, but Julian—he was running out of time.”

“We are talking about Julian ?” Charlotte frowned. “Lord of Arrogance? Earl of Everything?”

“Yes, Julian .” The Dowager gave a watery sniff. “Julian, who took up the title when he was just a boy. Julian, who had to carry the livelihoods of a thousand people on his young shoulders. Julian, who saved us all when we were so close to ruin. Your own brother Julian, who nearly killed himself working to ensure we never had to worry. If he’s arrogant, it’s because he’s carried all his burdens alone. Have some respect for once!”

The air rushed out of Anna, her happy bubbles burst.

She wanted to scrabble after every word the Dowager let slip, like an alley cat after table scraps. The thought of Julian’s hurts made her want to slash and yowl.

But he had never told her of them. He’d never spoken of burdens, or ruin. Or anything at all, much, no matter how many times she pushed.

Anna gave the Dowager’s hand a squeeze. “He had you, my lady. A formidable ally. And surely he had a guardian?”

An odd look flashed across the Dowager’s face. “Yes, he had a guardian. Has he told you nothing about it?”

Anna kept her expression blank.

“He will. I’m sure of it. I never thought he’d trust anyone again.” The Dowager dashed away her tears and smiled at Anna. “But now he has you.”

He had her. But he didn’t trust her. Julian didn’t bring her his wounds to kiss, or his fears to roar at. He’d never slipped his happiness into her pocket and asked her to keep it safe.

He gave her his respect, and his body.

Nothing more.

Steady on. Steady! Anna thought, trying to calm herself the way she’d calm a skittish horse. Julian cares for you. You know he does!

“What’s wrong, Anna? You look ill,” said Charlotte.

“Bridal nerves.” The Dowager patted Anna’s hand. “Not to worry, dear. He needs you. I’ve never seen a man so smitten.”

Anna tried to smile. “We’re certainly very cordial.”

The Dowager eyed her calmly. “Darling, he’s besotted.”

Charlotte nodded vigorously, her curls leaping up and down in agreement. “It’s enough to make Cupid vomit.”

Anna was pleased when she managed to smile and nod, but the Dowager only laughed. “I see. It’s agony in the beginning, isn’t it? And that foolish man hasn’t told you he loves you.” She took a moment to think. “I’m sure he just needs the smallest of nudges. Perhaps if we stage a small accident and—”

Charlotte spluttered out a laugh, half-appalled and half-impressed. “Good lord, Gran! I can’t endorse plotting against your grandchildren.” She shook her head. “Julian really has given you fits, hasn’t he?”

The Dowager sighed. “You have no idea!”

“Caused you countless nights of worry.”

“Endless worry!”

“Given you much more trouble than I ever—”

The Dowager fixed her with a look. “Not by a mile, darling.”

A great clatter on the street captured their attention, and Charlotte dashed over to the window. “It’s Julian! Anna, quick, to the dressing room. I know exactly the gown you ought to wear.”

“I think I’d like a second alone,” said Anna.

“What? No! You’ve barely said a word about last night! I still want to know every —”

The Dowager got up from the bed, grabbed Charlotte’s wrist, and marched her toward the hall.

Charlotte caught the doorframe and clung like a starfish.

Everything! she mouthed, before one last yank from the Dowager had her stumbling into the hall, leaving Anna deep in her thoughts.