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“Menwon’t trustus?” Emily snapped, suddenly angry. “Mama, it is us who should not trust them! Even the best men can ruin a family. Dear Papa?—”

“No, Emily,” Octavia interrupted, her voice taut and her face suddenly pale. “No words against your papa. He made a great many mistakes, but he was a good man, and we all loved him.”

There was an awkward pause after that.

Emily bit her lip, eyeing her untouched breakfast plate. She ought to have been starving, after her long night of… well, doing anythingbutsleeping. Instead, she found that she had no appetite at all.

“I’m sorry, Mama,” she murmured. “I am not sure what to do. I am glad that my sisters have found love, but is love the best thing for a person? It can be truly blinding. Love makes a person forgive things they ought not to forgive. I don’t wish to live like that. I don’t want to marry a man I cannot trust.

“I wantfreedom, Mama. There must be some way of getting it. Marriage, to be sure, is not freedom. I would argue that it is the opposite. I feel as though I am backed into a corner and I cannot see a way out. I keep looking and looking for somebody to come along and save me, but I do not think that is going to happen. I shall just have to save myself, I think.”

Octavia was silent for a moment.

“Whatever choice you make, my dear, I will be here,” she promised, her voice quiet. She sounded tired, as if the subject was draining her. “Now, let’s discuss something a little less serious, shall we? I’m quite tired of being solemn. Now, what do you think ofthis?”

She turned the paper around, tapping a paragraph in the middle of the sheet.

Emily leaned forward, her eyes widening.

Prince Regent Addresses Anon!

On the heels of the phenomenal success of Anon, the mystery painter ofWoman In the Windowas well as several other popular pieces, readers have wondered what is next for the enigmatic and secretive painter.

Anon’s popularity, it seems, has reached the highest rooms in the land, with the Prince Regent himself professing interest in the painter. His Majesty the Prince of Wales is said to own a copy ofWoman In The Window, along withChild Flees From SnakeandBlack Cat and Red Ball, some of Anon’s more popular pieces. In a rather thrilling announcement, the Prince Regent has reached out to Anon with a challenge.

His Royal Highness is reported as speaking thus:

“I should like to possess some of Anon’s paintings for myself, in his own fascinating style. I would invite this painter to create no less than five paintings featuring myself at key moments of my life—I shall leave their composition up to the artist—and he may present them to me at the closing ball of the Season. In exchange for these unique works, I shall reward him with the sum of one thousand pounds.”

Will Anon pick up this challenge—along with his brush—and oblige our great sovereign? This author hopes so! Time will tell, and we shall wait and see. Do not disappoint us, Anon!

Emily sat back, breathless. “One thousand pounds,” she whispered. “For my paintings?”

She had received money for her other paintings, of course, but all her income combined would not match up to that sum.

Of course, receiving the money would mean abandoning her anonymity. Everybody would be looking out for Anon at the closing ball of the Season.

“It’s quite something, isn’t it?” Octavia commented, giving a short laugh. “I had to read it twice. Just think, Emily—one thousand pounds! Think of what you could do with that money. And with the Prince Regent’s patronage, your paintings would be more popular than ever.”

“Unless he’s disappointed to find out that Anon is a woman,” Emily countered.

Octavia sighed. “Well, you won’t lose anything. Five paintings… Could you complete five paintings in time?”

“I… I believe so. Would the Prince Regent really want my paintings?”

Octavia gave a wry smile. “Why, yes. Unless you do something foolish and paint a picture of his marriage, of course. He’d fly into a rage if you dared to depict his wife in any of them. He loathes her, poor woman.”

They sat in silence for a moment or two. Emily kept reading and rereading the paragraph in the newspaper, sure that there wassomethingshe had overlooked, some hidden catch, some reason why she should not take the Prince Regent up on his offer.

With that money, I could stay a spinster. I could invest it, or simply live off the interest. I could live. I could have my freedom, at last.

She’d not need the Duke of Clapton.

A cold feeling spread through her. She shifted in her seat, uncomfortable. She recalled the distant, angry look in his eyes when he’d spoken about his father and the way he’d ended the subject when his brother came up. There had been hurt in his voice.

Emily cleared her throat, glancing up at her mother. “Mama, I never knew the Duke of Clapton had a brother,” she heard herself say.

Octavia raised her eyebrows. “Are we still talking about that man? Goodness, I’m surprised you can think of him at all, with the Prince Regent’s offer on the table.”