I finished her plate with a slab of soft, flakey cod and a spoonful of sauce.
Polite. Compassionate. Content? Who the devil was this woman?
I took a cautious bite of fish. What was I missing? Had she already laid a snare to trap me in my own home? I’d have to sleep with my eyes open. I’d tread carefully. Slowly.
“I am glad to hear it,” I said, watching her. Her gaze was as straight and unreadable as ever. Even though this was my house, my table, she knew she held power here. I knew it too. I took a deep breath before trying my luck. “Miss Lane, I would love to take you for a tour of the town tomorrow, if you are willing.”
She smiled, slowly chewing her bite, swallowed, then said, “Forgive me, but that sounds dreadfully boring.”
Ah. There she was.
Ginny bristled, back straight. “Brighton is anything but dull.”
I gave her a warning look. She’d have to simmer her temper; it would do us no good to rise to Anna’s verbal sparring.
If she didn’t want a tour, then devil take it, what did she want? I turned my attention to my plate, finishing my fish and vegetables in a few swooping bites.
“Graham tells us you used to travel to Lyme with your father?” Mother graciously broke the silence.
“They are some of my fondest memories,” Anna replied. She touched her lips with her napkin.
“Then you must be fond of the sea.”
“Very much.”
Mother gave me a pointed stare. As though she’d parted the seas and now it was my turn to walk through.
I drew in a long breath through my nose, then gave Anna my most charming smile.“There must be something you’re interested in seeing here in Brighton, Miss Lane.”
She took a slow drink of wine. “I rather like the view outside my window.”
Frustration simmered in my chest, and I gritted my teeth, somehow still managing to hold my smile. We only had this week, and she wasn’t even going to make an effort.
I tried again. “As I said earlier, the Steine is a popular social spot. I can introduce you to our local society there, as well as make new connections with the tourists.” And I could show her how thriving our little town had become. The market, the lending library, the bustling seaside would all besteps away. All overlooked by the Marine Pavilion, which, if nothing else, should impress Anna.
“I am from London, Mr. Everett. I do not travel to socialize. I travel to be free of Society.” She set down her fork, as though to punctuate her standing.
“Others certainly do. Surely you wish to make an informed decision for your father’s investment for the whole of his investors. Not just those like yourself.”
She blinked, then slowly met my gaze. Her lips parted as she huffed out an exhausted puff of air. “Not tomorrow. The next day perhaps. Tomorrow ...” She mused, looking blankly down at the table. She took in a breath, a faraway look in her eyes that relaxed her features. She was lovely when her countenance softened. Then, gently, but determined, she said, “Tomorrow, I should like to take a walk on the beach.”
Mother dabbed her lips with a napkin. “Would you like to sea bathe?”
“Heavens, no.” Anna laughed. “The water must be frigid.”
“That is the point. It’s exhilarating,” Ginny argued defensively.
“In Lyme, we dipped our feet in, and that sufficed.” Anna took another lazy drink.
“A walk it is, then,” I said, determined. I would find the best view. Something private, secluded. Superior to Lyme in every way, so that the only things she’d have to write about in her little notebook were positive.
Dessert came and went, with talk of the comings and goings of Brighton tourists. Anna listened politely, commenting on a few names she recognized from London. By the end of dinner, it did not seem so strange to have her at my table. Shespoke mostly to Mother and Ginny, only giving me a rare word now and again.
At long last, Mother rose. “You must be exhausted, Miss Lane. Might we get you more comfortable?”
“Thank you,” Anna said with a little sigh. “I do have a bit of writing to do before I retire. Thank you again, Mrs. Everett. Miss Everett. Mr. Everett.” She clipped my name, as per usual, and I could’ve sworn she smirked at me.
“Good night, Miss Lane,” I muttered, settling back in my seat, eager for the larger than normal glass of port I’d have upon their departure.
