Evangeline looked at her, eyes shifting with curiosity. Anastasia recognized that expression. Her sister’s mind was working. She was surprised when the words that came out were gentle, even kind.
“You look well, Anastasia,” Evangeline murmured, reaching for her hand to squeeze it. “You are thinner than I remember, but there is a fire in your eyes that I have not seen for quite some time. Have you been up to mischief again?”
Anastasia knew what Evangeline meant. Something dulled her after the scandal. Some people might not notice it. They still thought she was as feisty and inappropriate as society deemed.
“I suppose the country air has helped,” Anastasia mumbled, forcing a smile.
“Mm, maybe,” Evangeline said in a soft voice, raising an eyebrow. “Never mind that, though. You will talk to me when you are ready. While Frostmore seems to have done you some good, you have no reason to stay there anymore. Serenity is now securely married. You can return to London whenever you want. We can be a complete family again.”
In that moment, Anastasia felt the barrier she had erected around her severely broken heart shatter. Seeing her whole family, even her father, who had just joined them in the room, so focused on Serenity’s marriage and future joy, peeled back her walls. Maybe even just a little. Sometimes, she wished they would look at her honestly, without being gripped by concern orshame.
“Father, Mother, Evangeline,” she spoke, her throat tight and dry. She walked over closer and hugged her mother and her sister tightly.
Evangeline had been there with her, conversing about her current state, but it just felt like the right time. Anastasia knew she had embraced them with desperation, as if she were saying goodbye rather than reconciling and returning. She could not help it.
“There are some things I needed to say,” she continued. “I apologize for everything that I have done to hurt our family. I recognize the pain and shame I have caused because of the scandal. My elopement. It was not something I would have dreamed of doing when I was younger, but it happened because I was feeling more than thinking. I let my chaos reign over me and put everyone in an impossible position.”
The viscount, her rigid father, stepped forward and did the unthinkable. He embraced her. It was a warm and fierce embrace, one that she had always hoped for but had now just gotten.
“You have suffered enough, Anastasia,” he murmured, the dignified voice she knew so well brimming with repressed emotions. “We do regret having sent you away, letting the world lay claim to the decisions we should have made for our child. You are safe here with us. I want you to remember that you belong here. We are your family. We are standing with you now and wish we had done it sooner.”
Her mother and sister joined them. They were finally united. The years of isolation seemed to dissolve in one moment.
Still, bitterness gripped Anastasia’s heart. Suspicions could not help but rise. She was no longer a threat to her family’s honor. They did not have to hide her from society since neither of her sisters would be affected by her scandal. However, she remained on the discard pile.
She should have been thrilled, but that was not what she felt right now. For years, she had hoped to return to London and live a normal life. Now, it seemed that her dreams were coming true, but she felt nothing but an aching emptiness. Suddenly, London had become dull or worse; it had become the enemy, a symbol of the acceptable and orderly life that Benedict had chosen over her.
When she looked at their faces, however, a renewed hope washed over her. Perhaps, she would find a happy ending, anyway, just not a romantic one.
“Yes, I am ready to return home,” Anastasia promised, nodding as if she was convincing herself.
Still, the words gave her a feeling of profound dread. It was not just about leaving the comfort of Frostmore; it was also about leaving Benedict. He still needed her to marry to claim his inheritance, but perhaps she could do that from London if any man would have her.
After she decided to stay in London, Anastasia needed some time for her own thoughts, although the dowager duchess did not seem like she would allow her to do so. Her aunt had joined her in a small conservatory, where she was listlesslystaring at some potted geraniums, as if they would provide the entertainment and relaxation she needed.
Meanwhile, the Dowager Duchess of Frostmore was relentless in urging her niece to conclude her visit and return to Frostmore.
“You are miserable here,” the dowager declared, not in the least afraid to offend her. “You have been miserable for a while, even in the days before you received Serenity’s invitation. It almost coincided with Miss Penelope’s arrival. Now, London is making you even more miserable. Is it the perfumes?”
Anastasia could not help but smile at her aunt’s overuse of the word ‘miserable.’ She had to admit that it was accurate. She sighed, biting her lip as she tried to ignore the burning sensation behind her eyes.
“You are being too dramatic, Aunt. I am simply tired. Traveling does not suit me anymore, it seems.”
“Nonsense. You are far too young to complain so. Look at me. At my age, I still enjoy journeying by carriage.”
This time, Anastasia had to stifle a giggle, remembering how her aunt would nod off whenever she traveled by carriage.
“Trust that things will work out, Anastasia,” the dowager said softly, her voice finally more serious and her expression grave.“They always do.”
Anastasia wondered if her aunt could read her mind and what it had become so obsessed with over the past few days.
“Aunt, you know that I will never be truly happy again, and it is my own fault. I have made so many mistakes in the past and have had to bear the consequences. However, I do not want anyone else to be punished for my errors. What will happen tothe Duke of Frostmore’s fortune now that I am unable to marry? For you see it for what it is, Aunt, don’t you? Nobody will marry a woman like me.”
Anastasia was startled when the dowager duchess suddenly threw her head back and laughed. It was a rich sound, so full and real, she almost envied her aunt for her humor.
“Oh, Anastasia! What a foolish, sentimental girl! I do not know why some people think you are devious. You are a sweet, innocent soul that people have been taking advantage of.”
She was not quite sure she was pleased with what her aunt had just said. Taken advantage of? Didn’t that put her in the worst light? It might be true, but she did not want anyone making her look weak again.
