Thirty minutes later, she turned down the long driveway that led to Weston Manor. She stopped outside the main entrance and put her car into park. She frowned. Now that she’d arrived, she suddenly felt unsure. Would she be welcomed? Would Lady Vivian be irritated with her for presuming it was all right to show up at her family home? Anya took a deep breath and then prepared to go inside. She left her bag on the front seat. She would not presume she’d be a welcome visitor. She’d drive into town and find a hotel later.
She pushed open the door to her car and stepped out. After a moment, she forced herself to close it and head to the entrance. She lifted the knocker and rapped it several times. It didn’t take long before a butler opened the large wooden door and said, “Yes?” He held his head high. He was the butler to a duke, after all. “How may I help you?”
“I wish to see Lady Vivian,” she said.
He nodded. “Are you Lady Anya Montgomery?”
She tilted her head to the side, confused. Anya hadn’t called ahead to let them know she was coming. How could the butler possibly know her name? “I am,” she said slowly.
“Do you have your luggage?”
Anya stood completely still. This was not going at all how she’d expected. At best, she hoped for an audience with Lady Vivian. If she were invited to stay, even better. She did not, once, believe they would anticipate her arrival. “I have one bag in my front seat.”
“Very well,” the butler said. “Give me your keys, and I’ll see that your suitcase is taken to your room and your car stored in the garage.” He held out his hand and she slid her car key into it. “Now, follow me. Tea is being served in the salon. The duchess and Lady Vivian are already there.”
Wonderful.She’d wanted to have a pointed conversation with Lady Vivian, but how could she do that with her mother there too? At least Anya was able to stay at the manor even though it was odd that they already planned on having her there. Did they have some sort of premonition that she’d be coming?
Anya frowned. Perhaps Catherine had informed them. She had told her to enjoy her visit at Weston. From what she could recall, the Seabrooks and Westons were close…perhaps even distantly related. It wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to believe Catherine had warned them she’d suddenly arrive on their doorstep.
The butler bowed, then announced, “Lady Anya Montgomery.”
“Come in,” the duchess waved at her. “You must be parched after your long journey.” Anya had known the duchess was an American, but her accent still threw her off. It was sweet, and distinctive, like a true Southern belle. Of course it shouldn’t have startled her, at least not because it was so different than her own, or Lady Vivian’s. If Anya’s dream was actually real, and she had started to believe it had been, then she’d met the duchess in the past as Ana. Her voice was similar, but her face had aged slightly, as it should have in the years since the war.
Lady Vivian sipped on her tea. “How are you, dear? I’ve been worried about you.”
Not enough to visit her in the hospital… Perhaps she was being too harsh. Lady Vivian could have visited her while she was still in a coma. “I’m well enough.” She didn’t want to discuss her health.
“Good,” she said. “Now do as my mother bade you. Come sit. You were released from the hospital mere days ago. You shouldn’t overtax yourself.”
Anya ambled over to a nearby chair and sat down. The duchess poured her a cup of tea. “How do you take it?”
“One sugar please,” she told her. The duchess put the sugar into the cup and then handed it to her. She sipped it mostly because she didn’t know what else to do. What should she say or do? This wasn’t what she had planned, and she didn’t know what her next action should be. “Thank you.”
Neither of them spoke. Anya sighed and then sipped her tea again. The door to the salon opened, and a gentleman walked in. He had dark hair, a little on the longer side, and blue eyes very much similar to the shade Arthur’s had been. Pain, guilt, and something close to longing stung her heart. Those feelings were almost too much to bear. She shook the image from her mind. This wasnotArthur. She didn’t know who he was, but she understood that much.
“It’s about time,” Lady Vivian said. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
“Welcoming as always, sister dear,” the gentleman said as he moved into the room with almost graceful movements. She didn’t’ know how else to explain it. He stopped in front of her and she lifted her gaze to meet his. His lips tilted upward into a devilish smile that stole her heart. It seemed familiar somehow. She then realized then the identity of the man. This was Mathias, the Marquess of Blackthorn, Lady Vivian’s younger brother. “I’m glad you are finally here.” He held out his hand to her. “Will you come walk with me?”
Anya stared down at his outstretched hand in confusion. Should she take it? What did he mean to show her? Why did he want to spend time with her? They had never met before this moment…well, not as Anya anyway. She’d seen him in her dream when she inhabited Anastasia’s body. Not to mention she was a little annoyed that she had to wait to talk to Vivian. That had been her sole reason for making the trip to Weston. Now Vivian’s brother wanted her to spend time with him instead? That was…odd.
“My apologies,” he began. “It’s not my intention to frighten you.” She jerked her head upward and narrowed her gaze. That statement sounded too familiar and made her leery—she’d heard it somewhere before... She slowly put her hand in his. It was time to end this charade and uncover what was really going on. If it meant spending some time with Lord Blackthorn, so be it.
