“That shade of blue is quite becoming on you.” Philippa said as Anastasia entered their shared sitting room. “You look positively radiant.”
“I feel…happy.” Ever since Dante had proposed, she could not keep the smile from her face. Never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined that she would be a countess, married to her one true love and live in a grand house such as this.
Sadness still loomed in her heart, and probably always would, but at least the past was now at peace. There was still one detail that she had yet to tell Dante, but she had yet to work up the courage to reveal why her father had sent her away. Every time she came close to explaining, something or someone interrupted.
“I’m glad. You deserve happiness.”
Anastasia eyed Philippa, suspecting that her dear friend had more to do with her current state than she was willing to say. “Perhaps one day you will tell me your role in all this.”
Philippa gave Anastasia a sly little smile. “I only did what was necessary.”
Just then, Isabel entered the room, handkerchief in hand and looking rather sullen.
“Are you crying?” Philippa tilted her head in question.
“No, I don’t cry. I just fear…that I am losing Anastasia forever.” This was as close as Isabel came to dramatics.
“Oh, my dearest, you are not losing me.” Anastasia strolled up to Isabel and took her hands in hers and squeezed them with reassurance. “We will still be the best of friends. Distance and an earl could never come between us.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.” She ended her oath with a kiss on Isabel’s cheek. “Come, let’s finish getting ready.”
It seemed as if only a couple of minutes had passed before there was a knock on the door. Philippa went to answer and was greeted by Dabney. “Lord Huntingdon has requested Miss Quintin’s presence before the evening festivities begin.”
Anastasia and Philippa both squealed with girlish delight. One more quick check in the mirror and Anastasia left the room, following Dabney. She still did not care for the servant and hoped that after she married, Dabney would treat her with more respect. She doubted that would be the case.
“This way, Miss Quintin.” Anastasia followed the sour-faced woman. She was not going to let Dabney’s bitterness ruin the evening.
Anastasia relished in the excitement that was bubbling inside. She hardly noticed her surroundings, too lost in the thoughts of Dante. Several minutes passed before she realized she had no idea what part of the house she was in. Anastasia suspected she was now in the family wing.
“You may wait in the pink sitting room for Lord Huntingdon. He will be along momentarily.”
Anastasia entered the sitting room, which seemed far too feminine to be a place where a gentleman would retreat. She looked about the space and noticed lace doilies, ornate pillows in every shade of pink imaginable, and several delicate music boxes. Where was she?
“Good evening, Miss Quintin.” Lady Huntingdon’s calm voice sent shivers down her spine.
She swallowed the hard lump in her throat. “Good evening, Lady Huntingdon. I…I was waiting for…”
“My grandson will not be attending us.” Lady Huntingdon walked out of the shadows and took her seat at a large mulberry damask chair. “It was I who summoned you. Please have a seat.”
Anastasia did not want to oblige. In fact, all she wanted to do was run from the room. Unfortunately, Dabney was blocking the only way out of the room. Lady Huntingdon’s eyes bore into her, awaiting her request to be fulfilled. She sat down on the edge of the elegant sofa and clasped her hands in her lap.
The silence lingered on as Lady Huntingdon inspected Anastasia. When she finally spoke, Lady Huntingdon wasted no time with pleasantries and got straight to the point.
“I know your secret.”
If it were possible, Anastasia thought her heart stopped beating. There was only one secret that she could be referring to and Lady Huntingdon could not possibly know about her baby. She did not know what to say. Anything she said could be strewed. She jumped to her feet, hoping the opportunity to escape would present itself.
Lady Huntingdon stood and then circled around her like a vulture eyeing a carcass. “I know that you had a summer romance with my grandson.” She was standing behind Anastasia and whispered into her ear. “I know that you wanted to marry him.” She came around stood directly in front of her now. “I know that you claimed to have been pregnant with his child.”
Oh, no! Panic seized Anastasia. How did she…?
“Oh, yes,” Lady Huntingdon hissed out the words like they brought her great pleasure. “I know all about the two of you. It is quite unfortunate that you were sent away to have that bastard. Mercifully it died.”
“How dare you,” Anastasia screamed. “My daughter wasn’t a bastard. Dante said he would marry me and instead…” She choked on the tears as the painful lump in her throat choked off her words.
“How dare I?” Lady Huntingdon remained eerily calm. “I was not going to take any chance that some fortune hunter of inferior birth was going to infiltrate my family and cause scandal. Oh, yes, I knew all about you. Who do you think intercepted your thoughtful letters?” The sarcasm in Lady Huntingdon’s tone of voice hurt just as much as the words she spoke.
“You kept us apart?” Anastasia could not believe what she was hearing. How could one woman be so cruel?
“Yes, and fortunate for me, your father wanted to be rid of you just as much as I did. Although I would never have guessed that he would have told everyone you died. I understand the funeral was quite lovely and well attended.”
Anastasia felt as if she had been slapped in the face. She had always known that her father had not cared for her the way he cared for her brothers, but to treat her with such disdain was incomprehensible. Anastasia could feel the life being sucked out of her with each breath Lady Huntingdon took.
“What is that you want from me?”
“I want you to leave and never see or write to my grandson ever again.”
“But we…”
“What could my grandson possibly gain by having you as a wife?” The words pierced her heart. She did not want to marry him because he was an earl. Title had never been important to her.
“We love each other and that should…”
“Love is not a requirement in my world. Breeding and lineage are far more important than love.” She spat out the last words as if they were poison on her tongue. Anastasia was about to argue that there was nothing greater than love when Lady Huntingdon continued her assault. “What do you think will happen when the ton learns that your family disowned you after you had an illicit affair? You, some commoner who at seventeen schemed and faked your own death so no one would ever know the truth.”
Anastasia was going to be sick. Dozens of thoughts raced through her mind, but the words failed to reach her mouth.
“And what of Miss Albryght?” Despite the nausea rising, Anastasia was able to speak with some force. “She has nothing to do with this.”
“No?” Lady Huntingdon’s glare suggested otherwise. This woman would stop at nothing to achieve her goals. “Isn’t it Miss Albryght and her bastard of a half brother, Mr. Weston, who took you in?” She circled around Anastasia again. “I’m sure Mr. Weston was an attentive benefactor for all those years.”
Anger flared through her veins. “There was nothing ever untoward. Weston is like a brother to me. Stop twisting the facts.” Anastasia could not contain the anger or her breathing. Her chest rose and fell. Her head ached with all the turmoil. She had finally found her happily ever after, and now Lady Huntingdon was ripping it from her.
“Your father will attest to your trickery.”
“My father? I haven’t seen him in eight years.”
With nonchalance Lady Huntingdon said, “He is easily swayed for a minimal price.”
It was a shock to hear how little her family valued her. “What is it that you want? Do you honestly believe that these games will force Dante to abandon me?”
Lady Huntingdon waved her hand at Anastasia to stop her from speaking. “I have made arrangements with a friend for you to have a position as a lady’s companion in Scotland. You leave at dawn tomorrow.” She looked hard at Anastasia. “As you can see, I am not an unreasonable person.”
“Not unreasonable? For the second time, and I suspect more, you are trying to ruin my life. Well, it is not up to you. Dante will never allow you to do this.” Although she tried to speak with conviction, her words had no impact on Lady Huntingdon’s resolve.
“Ah, I see. Still determined to fight for what you believe is true love.” Lady Huntingdon’s gaze turned harsh. “It doesn’t exist, Miss Quintin. It is a silly schoolgirl notion that is shattered the moment…” Her words trailed off. Anastasia suspected that years ago Lady Huntingdon had suffered her own heartache that shaped the woman standing before her.
Anastasia thought to appeal to her, woman to woman. “Surely you can…”
Lady Huntingdon waved her hand to silence Anastasia. It was a gesture that she was quickly coming to dislike.
“I’m sure Miss Albryght would be most interested to hear how you destroyed her season before she even had one. And then there is Mr. Weston and his new bride. Scandal seems to follow Mrs. Weston.” Lady Huntingdon paused and then added with sarcasm, “I am sure she will rise above the gossip.”
Anastasia could not believe what she was hearing. Lady Huntingdon was prepared to destroy others’ lives just to get what she wanted. Dante had mentioned that his grandmother cared for no one save herself and now Anastasia was witnessing it firsthand.
“Oh, and let’s not forget Dante’s aunt and cousin. I’m sure he would still love you even after you ruined their lives.”
She had to get away from Lady Huntingdon. “You’re insane,” Anastasia said as she backed away from Lady Huntingdon. The pounding of her heart clouded her thoughts. The moment she spoke the words, she knew she had made a grievous mistake. “When Dante hears what you’ve done…”
Lady Huntingdon stepped in closer to Anastasia. “I had a feeling that you would put up an argument.” She waved her hand, signaling someone, but before Anastasia could react, a firm hand covered mouth, and then her world went dark.
* * *
Anastasia felt numb from the cold. The pounding in her head was a steady staccato that would not ease. The last thing she remembered was arguing with Lady Huntingdon. She had not even seen who approached from behind.
She glanced about the dark room. A window, no wider than the length of her arm, let in a soft stream of moonlight. She had no idea where she was, but the howling of the wind sent shivers down her spine. With wobbling legs, Anastasia managed to stand, but quickly lurched forward as what felt like thousands of needles pierced her legs. She bent over, rubbing her legs, trying to relieve the pain. When the stinging lessened, she hobbled over to the window and glanced outside.
She was in the tower that Isabel had told her about on the journey to Paradiso. Looking down into the dark depths below, she suspected she was fairly high up. Even if she screamed for help, she was too far from the main house for anyone to hear her. She had to discover a way out of here. What lies would Lady Huntingdon weave to try and convince Dante she left him? No, he would never believe his grandmother, but what horrors did she have in store for Anastasia?
Anastasia wanted to cry. The tears were already pooling in the corner of her eyes, but she would not allow them to spill. First she had to escape, and then she could cry. When she was safe in Dante’s arms, then she would cry.
From what she could discern, the interior space was spartan. She ran her hand along the wall until she reached the door, fumbled to find the handle then pulled with all her might. The moment the door swung open, she knew she was in trouble.
“And where do you think you’re going?” She knew that voice. Dabney.
“Why am I here?”
“Lady Huntingdon wants to ensure that you will not cause any problems when Lord Huntingdon announces his bride.”
Anastasia glanced about and a plan formed in her mind. She did not know if it would work, but she had nothing to lose.
“Lady Huntingdon’s plan will not succeed.” Distracting Dabney with conversation, Anastasia began to walk back toward the open door. “Lord Huntingdon will not be fooled again by his grandmother.”
“Little do you know about men. Money and a pretty face can sway their fickle hearts.” Dabney continued to talk about men’s fickle ways as Anastasia edged up to the door. She was hoping that the dark room hid her actions from Dabney. Clasping her hand around the handle, she waited.
Anastasia baited the servant. She didn’t know what she was saying but wanted her to close the distance. “I don’t believe that Lord Huntingdon’s heart is fickle. I think you had your heart broken.”
“You’re wrong.” Dabney growled out as she took a step toward Anastasia. “I broke his heart. I left him.” The room may have been dark, but Anastasia could sense that Dabney was dangerous. The woman scurried toward Anastasia. “You need a lesson in manners.” Before Dabney could touch her, Anastasia pulled the door back and swung it toward the belligerent servant with all her might.
A loud thwack echoed against the walls and then Dabney slumped onto the floor. Anastasia was breathing heavy. Her heart practically jumped out of her chest.
Lifting up her skirts, Anastasia hurried from the room. Everything was dark all around her, except for the narrow streams of moonlight penetrating through the windows. With caution, Anastasia hurried down the steps, one hand on the wall, the other on the railing as she circled her way down the tower.
By the time she reached the bottom, she was out of breath, but she could not give up. At the bottom, she yanked on the door, but it did not budge. Those tears that she had managed to keep at bay were threatening again. “Not now,” she commanded her emotions to obey.
She pulled on the door again and again. Frustration rose with each tug. She leaned her head against the cool wood door trying to think of a way out of this predicament.
Turning around, she slammed her body against the door. Damn. She looked up and noticed a wider stream of light coming from the floor above. Anastasia made her way up the stairs and entered the room. A small alcove with a window wider than in the upper room was off to one side. She went to the glassless window. The cool night air rushed past her, the sound of a tree branch scraping against the side of the tower startled her. She looked out the window. It was still quite a drop, but she thought she could make it.
Sounds from above ricocheted down the tower. “Where are you?” an angry voice demanded, getting closer.
Anastasia looked around for something she could use as a weapon, but the room was empty.
She was trapped.
Her body started to tremble. All sorts of morbid thoughts raced through her mind.
“I know you’re here.” Dabney’s voice edged closer.
Anastasia did not stop and think if what she was about to do was a good idea or not. Bracing herself against the window she inhaled deeply and then screamed out into the dark and silent night. “Help me!” She took in another deep breath. “I’m in the tower.”
“That wasn’t too smart of you.” Dabney’s voice was right behind Anastasia, and sent a chill down her spine. Her head snapped up. Demon-like eyes met hers.
“Help me!” She turned and continued to scream, praying that someone might hear her. She inhaled and prepared to scream again. She heard Dabney approach before she felt the woman’s icy cold hands on her body.
Anastasia glanced about. There was nowhere for her to go. “Please don’t do this,” she cried.
Dabney did not say a word, but laughed in a garish sort of way as she lunged toward Anastasia, forcing part of her body out the window.
“Please don’t,” Anastasia pleaded again. Her heart was pounding against her chest as the fear took hold. She stared into the dark abyss below, fighting for control. “Help me,” she screamed into the night as her body began to slip further out the window. “Someone help me!”