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“See you at our wedding,” he said in parting, flashing her a quick grin that seemed more like the oldHenry than Anna had seen in the past week.

She smiled back, but he was already looking away, nimbly climbing down.

Anna kept watching until Henry reached the ground and then jogged nimbly across the unkempt grass. The mist swallowed him up.

“Looks like rain,” Daphne remarked for the tenth time.

“Stop it,” Emily hissed, digging her elbow into her sister’s ribs.

At seventeen, the twins had grown into tall, good-looking young ladies. Their debut would be next year. Of course, there was no money for even one London Season, let alone two. They couldn’t even affordhalf.

That will change,Anna reminded herself, tweaking a curl into place. She had borrowed poor Phoebe, Beatrice’s maid, for the day to look her best for the wedding.

When I marry Henry, we’ll have enough for ten Seasons.

Henry might only be a second son, but his family was wealthy. They would want for nothing.

She could almost taste the relief already.Freedom.

The ceremony, of course, was a simple one. A special license had been obtained for such a quick engagement, and there would be no wedding breakfast.

“You should know, there’ll likely be a crowd at the church,” Octavia remarked. “All of London is talking about you and Lord Henry.”

Anna allowed herself a small smile. Let them talk. It felt good to be the subject ofgoodgossip rather than the usual talk of bankruptcy and disgrace.

She’d kept her wedding attire simple, too. She wore a plain white gown—which they had to borrow money from Henry to buy—and had borrowed some of her mother’s jewelry, the few items that hadn’t been sold or quietly pawned.

Emily had collected the flowers, along with a delicate flower crown that Anna had insisted on wearing, despite her mother’s objections.

“It’s not traditional,” Octavia had insisted.

“I don’t care,” Anna had shot back. “Nothing about this wedding is traditional.”

There was silence after that.

“You don’t have to go through with the wedding.”

Anna shook her head. “I know. But Henry and I are friends. It’ll be a perfect marriage.”

Octavia had said nothing. She was still quiet, sitting in the corner of the room, watching her daughter get ready for her wedding.

“Girls,” she said abruptly, standing up, “why don’t you go and wait downstairs? I want a word with your sister.”

Emily bent down, pressing a kiss to Anna’s cheek. “You’re the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”

Daphne sighed. “Why can’t I stay, Mama?”

Octavia clapped her hands together. “Out.”

She was obeyed. The door closed, and the two women stood in silence, facing each other.

“You don’t have to do this for us,” Octavia said quietly. “I… I loved your father. He wasn’t perfect, but I loved him so much. I don’t want you to miss out on that. Lord Henry is a fine man, but… well, friendship is notlove.”

Anna drew in a deep breath. “I know, Mama. But I’ve made up my mind. I know what I’m doing.”

“You generally do.”

Anna turned to the mirror to inspect herself one last time. She was hardly the most beautiful bride in the world, regardless of what Emily had said, but…