It's because of the deception. I have never been a good liar. It's imperative that I allow this letter to carry the story.
After taking a fortifying breath, she left her chambers and descended the stairs of the manor. Nearly at the door, her father intercepted her. His face was kind, his hand soft against her elbow. His concern was evident, though expertly concealed.
"You did not leave your room yesterday," he said, caring. He'd been this way Anna's entire life, especially after the passing of her mother. "Are you feeling well?"
"I'm fine," Anna replied, forcing a reassuring smile. "I was simply tired from the excitement of the ball."
Her father's expression softened. His hand came up to cup her cheek. "The dress has already been paid for. You need not trouble yourself so."
"I'm not troubling myself anymore, Papa," she said. Then, she told a half-truth. "You were correct. I needed a bit of rest. I know how I will handle it if there's another occurrence."
"Good," he said with a smile, dropping his hand. He took in her appearance. "And where are you running off to?"
She faltered for less than a second before saying, "I thought I'd go for a walk to Hyde Park. It's a beautiful day."
"I'll join you," he said.
"No!" Anna said quickly. She schooled her expression. "I… I think it's best I go on my own."
For a horrifying moment, she thought he was going to insist. Then, he said, "It wouldn't be any trouble, but I suppose I understand the desire to walk on your own. Though I can't say I'm pleased you're going without a chaperone. Do try to be backbefore sunset. You're a grown woman now, but you know I still worry about you."
"Yes, Papa," she said before taking her leave.
Once out of the manor, she kept her pace quick and steady. The decision was partially to get herself out of her father's sight, but mostly to ensure that she followed through. The only way her plan would work was if she sowed the seeds now.
It needs some time to circulate. Then, I'll invent a battle in which Laird McDonald loses his life. I'll fabricate another letter. And perhaps, I'll teach myself to cry at the drop of a pin.
Anna came upon the park quickly and sat on a bench in the shade. With a slightly trembling hand, she retrieved her letter. Then, she opened the page and read.
It didn't take long for others to start taking notice of her. At first, it was a slight turn of the head when someone passed her by. Slowly, though, she heard the whispers start as groups of women walked the path in front of her chosen perch. Everything was unfolding exactly how she'd expected.
Finally, the perfect opportunity to staunch the teasing appeared. Charlotte led her two friends directly toward Anna, her eyes locked onto Anna's form. The look upon her face made it obvious that her father had been incorrect. While the dress had been paid for, there was certainly reason to trouble herself.
Not for long, though. I'm about to fix that problem.
"Anna," Charlotte said as she stopped in front of her. "Curious that you left the ball early. You weren't covered in wine."
"I do apologize so," Anna said, the words sincere. She may not like Charlotte, but her intention was never to be unkind. "I hope you'll be able to replace it. It was a darling dress."
Charlotte didn't respond to that; her focus shifted to the letter in Anna's hands. The plan was working flawlessly, even better than Anna had imagined. She'd perfectly baited a trap, and Charlotte fell for it.
"And what is that you're reading with such intent?" Charlotte asked, her eyes narrowing. Her body was poised to snatch it away the same way she'd done with the dance card.
"A letter." Anna held it close to her chest, lending credence to the parchment's value. "It just arrived."
"And who is writing to you?"
Charlotte didn't wait for an answer, lunging forward. Even though Anna was expecting something like this, Charlotte's actions still threw her off balance. As she went, she let her hand relax a bit on the missive. And, in an act that looked accidental but was completely deliberate, Charlotte snatched the page away.
Retreating with a swiftness Anna hadn't expected, Charlotte moved back to the girls flanking her, her eyes scanning the page. Anna watched, doing her best to look indignant. The instant Charlotte understood the message, a flicker of hope stirred in Anna—that her ploy might work, that her torment might finally stop.
"Betrothed!" Charlotte said, holding the letter down so her friends could read it over her shoulder. "To Laird McDonald?" She looked at Anna with piercing eyes, an expression that demanded to know how she had missed this. "When did this happen?"
"Several weeks ago," Anna replied, making to grab the letter but letting Charlotte keep it when she pulled away.
"And why," Charlotte continued, slow and measured, a bit of awe lingering in her tone, "did I not know about this?"
"It's a private affair." The words come easily, easier than Anna thought they would. Lying so easily should have scared her, but it only emboldened her. "Many are afraid of Highlanders here. I did not think it pertinent to share the information."
