That evening, Anne gasped when the door to Astley House was opened by none other than her little sister Caroline.
“Caro!” Anne cried, enveloping her in a hug. “What are you doing here? I thought you meant to take a month or more for your bridal trip.”
Caro looked affronted. “You did not seriously believe I was going to miss Morsley’s return? I had Henry order the horses the moment I received Mama’s letter.”
“How wonderful,” Anne said, “that you were so eager to see an old friend.”
Caro rolled her eyes. “I didn’t interrupt my bridal trip to see Morsley. No offense, Morsley.”
Michael smiled amiably. “None taken.”
“What I wanted,” Caro said, taking Anne’s arm and steering her into the foyer, “was to be there to witness you finally coming to your senses. I only regret that I got back so late. I had to rely on Harrington and Edward for a description of the proposal, and their scope for the romantic is sadly limited.”
Anne blanched. “What do you mean, a description of the proposal?” She glanced up at Michael, and his expression confirmed the worst. “They… they were spying on us?” She paused, considering. “Although… I cannot honestly say I’m surprised.”
Caro looped her arm through Anne’s and led them toward the parlor. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this day. What has it been, about nine years, Morsley?”
From behind them, Michael gave an audible sigh. “Nine years,” he confirmed.
“How is it,” Anne asked, “that everyone seems to have known but me?”
“La, I have no idea!” Caro said. “How you remained oblivious for so long is utterly beyond me. He was so very obvious about it. Every time you walked into the room, he would look at you like this.” She made her eyes huge and full of longing. “And his gaze would follow you wherever you went.”
“I wasn’t that bad,” Michael grumbled.
Caro rounded on him, pointing a finger. “You most certainly were! I always knew this day would come.” She gave a dreamy sigh. “‘Anne Cranfield, Lady Morsley.’”
“Well,” Anne said crisply, “I do hope Michael and I will be able to marry. But there are some issues still to be resolved.”
“We’re getting married,” Michael said firmly.
“Of course you are. Don’t be ridiculous, Anne. Obviously you’re going to marry him.” She made a sweeping gesture. “Just look at him!”
Michael’s smile was all smugness. “Just look at me, Anne.”
“Yes, see how well Morsley looks, now that he’s grown into his hands and feet?” Caro took Anne’s hand and deliberately placed it on Michael’s arm, posing them together. “And look how divine the two of you look together. She has this ridiculous idea,” she said to Michael, “that she’s too tall. I have told her and told her that I would eat a bucket of leeches to have such an elegant figure, but does she listen to me? Of course not. And why should she? I’m just the leading authority on fashion in the haute ton, what would I know about it?” Caro shook her head. “Really, Anne, how you could even consider not marrying him is beyond me. If you think you’ll find another man in all of Europe who cuts half so dashing a figure, you are sadly mistaken.”
Anne felt Michael nudge her with his elbow. “You should listen to your sister.”
Anne raised her eyes heavenwards. “Because everyone knows that the basis of every successful marriage is a fine figure and the best tailoring.”
“Well,” Caro retorted, “it can’t hurt. Now, where is my husband? You know Lord Thetford, don’t you, Morsley?”
“Of course.”
“He will be getting into the brandy with Harrington, I imagine. I’d best check the library.”
Anne started to trail after her sister, but Michael held her back. “You remember our conversation this morning. About the issues we need to resolve?”
“Yes?”
He grinned. “I’ve found the solution.”
It took Anne a few seconds to process his words, then she said in a rush, “Truly, Michael? Tell me!”
“It’s perfect. It came to me during my afternoon ride. I always think better out of doors, and, well, the point is, you can go to Canada, Anne. I’ve figured out—”
“Morsley.” Caro’s new husband, Henry Greville, the Viscount Thetford, emerged from the library. Anne bit her lip to hold in the sharp retort she had been on the cusp of uttering. Perhaps Michael would let her borrow the battle-axe from Cranfield House. That might be the only means by which she could club it through his thick skull that she could not go to Canada. If his notion of a solution involved her giving up her charity so he could get everything he wanted…
Lord Thetford pumped Michael’s hand. “It’s deuced good to see you again.” He turned to Anne, bowing over her hand. “I understand congratulations are in order.”
Anne’s two older brothers trailed down the hall after Lord Thetford. Edward herded everyone into the parlor, where they found a gathering that could have taken place at Harrington Hall back in Gloucestershire—Anne’s family, Michael’s father, and Cecilia Chenoweth.
Caro plucked a sheet of paper from the writing desk in the corner. “Have you seen this, Lord Redditch?” she asked. “The Times featured Anne in a cartoon just last week.”
“Do you have it there?” Lord Redditch asked, pulling a pair of spectacles from his pocket and perching them on his nose. “I’ve been wanting to see it.”
“Caro!” Anne said. “Must you pass that around?”
Caro smiled and shook her head. “Modest Anne. If The Times ever printed a cartoon that made me look half that pretty, I would hang it in every room.”
“They called me a virago,” Anne hissed.
Caro made a show of fanning herself. “I know—I almost expired of jealousy!”
Edward strolled over. “You know, Anne, in the original Latin, virago isn’t a disparagement. It shares a root with the word virtus, which refers to the highest set of ideals a man can embody—valor, heroism, and the like. Adding -ago makes it feminine. So virago simply refers to a superior woman, great in courage and character.”
“I don’t think that’s how they meant it,” Anne muttered.
“I do,” Edward said quietly. “I wish you wouldn’t assume otherwise.”
Anne gave Edward a half smile. He really was the best brother anyone could ask for. She was about to tell him as much when Yarwood announced that dinner was served.
Anne wound up seated between Harrington and Michael, which would have been lovely but for the fact that she had been hoping to discretely question Michael about his supposedly brilliant plan for them to move to Canada. Knowing Harrington, not only would he eavesdrop, but he would also announce whatever they said to the whole table.
Anne sighed. Michael had won a reprieve. For now.