Page 64 of The Scandalous Saga of the White Lady

Anna stood up and coolly said, “I thank you for your concern, but I believe it to be misguided. I know you to be dear and true friends, and I know that you say these things to me out of love. However, I do believe Percy’s affections to be true and I intend to consider his suit to me if he should make it. Now, unless there is something else, I must get back to sorting my father’s clothes. And then I must begin going through his papers and his desk.”

Maria said, “If Warrick is available I should like to have a few words with him about the memorial service food. He asked me for some recipes and I have them with me.”

Anna went to the service bell and rang it. “He should be here shortly, and he can let you out.” And with that she left the room.

Harry and Maria looked at each other in astonishment.

“That did not go well,” Harry said.

“Not at all. But we have done what we could do. I fear for her happiness—and mine—but we did the best we could,” Maria said sadly.

“Yes, I fear her mind is set.” And for a brief moment Harry wondered if he should have so firmly closed the door on Miss Fitzwalker—but he knew it had been the right thing to do.

* * *

Because Dorothy and Anna had planned to sort through their father’s effects all day, Dorothy had put Christopher off until the evening when she had invited him to supper.

Both sisters were slowly recovering from the initial shock of their father’s death and life was slowly coming back to normal. However, their new black dresses were still required for all social occasions. It did not trouble Anna all that much to wear black, but Dorothy was very near rebellion over the disgusting dresses.

As she came into the drawing room before Christopher arrived, she pulled at the dress and made a disgusted face. “Oh, Anna, is there no way to escape these dreadful dresses except at the most formal public occasions?”

Anna looked up from the book she was reading from her father’s library and said, “But this is a public occasion. You have a guest.”

“Yes, but Christopher is not anyordinaryguest. He is my fiancé—practically family already.”

“But he is not—yet. Certainly, you do not want to get a reputation as a social miscreant?”

Dorothy pouted and plopped herself down in a chair and threw her head back to gaze up at the ceiling. “I hate it all.”

“But you do not hate being engaged, I am guessing.”

“Well, no. Not that.”

“Then you do not want your future husband to think you are a social misfit, do you?”

“Oh, he would love me even if I was the most brazen reprobate.”

“I doubt that, my dear sister.”

Warrick then presented himself, “Mr. Christopher has arrived, Miss Dorothy.”

“Yes, send him in.”

Christopher bounded into the room even before Warrick could call him. He bounced over to Dorothy, plucked her out of her chair, and gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “I cannot tell you how much I have missed you today. I am so used to visiting in the morning, I found myself with nothing to do but help Harry deliver another one of his infernal calves.”

“And I have been sorting through father’s dusty, musty old clothes and, I can tell you, that was no treat either.”

“Might you like an aperitif, Mr. Stewart?” Warrick asked.

“I think I will have a gin with a twist of lemon—if you have any—this evening, thank you.” Christopher replied.

“Sir…” Warrick went to the sideboard to prepare the drink.

Christopher received his drink and sat. “How are preparations going for the service?”

“As well as can be expected,” Anna answered. “All of the invitations have gone out and we are awaiting replies. However, we expect a large gathering, as father had many friends and a number of colleagues from the East India Company.”

“I thought of having you invite my parents, so they could meet you both, but decided against it as they do not know your family and it did not seem to be the time nor place to announce our engagement.” But Christopher brightened when he said, “I want to save the surprise for when you come to visit me in Dorset.”