I looked up to catch a swoosh of her green silk skirts as she walked out the door.
Decidedly, finally, blessedly alone.
ChapterEight
Anna
I’d been dreaming all night. Something happy and comfortable. As awareness started to trickle into my consciousness, my limbs still felt deliciously heavy, as did my head pressed into my pillow. The heat of my body had warmed my blankets, and I did not wish to move, despite light coloring the back of my eyelids.
I yawned, rubbing my eyes. Oh, but I did not wish to get out of bed. Back home, I slept as late as I desired, especially when Papa was traveling. I should not feel this comfortable in Graham Everett’s home, but goodness, I’d slept better than I had in ages. I’d written everything down in my notebook, every strange interaction from Ginny’s lecture in the drawing room to Graham’s obvious wheedling at dinner, before falling fast asleep.
Part of me was eager to hear the rushing sea and watch the tide roll in, but an equal part of me simply wanted this week over and done so I could enjoy the view with Papa instead. I hated how forced and tense things were with the Everetts. How delicate every matter was, and how desperately they wished to please me. If Ginny’s outburst was any indication, and Graham’s constant attempt to rush me throughBrighton, they all hated me and would rather be rid of me. After they got what they wanted, of course.
Graham had proventhatfact long ago.
My wooden bedframe creaked, and I froze, eyes still closed. Pressure shifted on my mattress, though I remained still as a board.
The movement ceased. Had I imagined it? Was I still dreaming? I almost believed I was, until little breaths sounded from above me. A sniff. Had an animal climbed onto my bed?
I opened my eyes to slits and peeked through my eyelashes; I was facing the door, which was slightly ajar.
Another small movement, pressure on either side of me like whatever it was, it had braced itself over me.
I turned and looked up, meeting a pair of sea-green eyes.
Sucking in a breath, I felt a scream already in my throat, when a little hand covered my mouth.
“Shh,” the tiny voice said. “Don’t scream, or she’ll catch us.”
I pushed up, scrambling back until my head hit the bedframe. “Who are you?” I croaked, my voice still rough with sleep. Was I being robbed? I looked around the room for the bellpull.
The little girl stared, her thick blonde curls springing out in every direction. An untidy sprinkling of freckles raked across her cheeks. She glanced back at the door.
“Whoareyou?” I breathed, snatching my blankets and covering myself as best I could.
“Tabitha.” A toothy grin appeared. She must’ve been seven or eight for the large teeth and gaps between them. “I’m your new sister.” The pride in her voice was unmistakable.
“My newwhat?”
The little hand shot back to my mouth, the girl’s eyes growing wide. “I would’ve come down for dinner, but Mama said you and Graham needed time alone.” Tabitha wiggled her eyebrows. Her eyes dashed to my trunk, then to my things that Mariah had laid out on the desk and bedside table.
“Graham is your brother?”
“Mm-hmm.”
This was his second sister? “How old are you?”
“Eight and a half,” she declared. “How old are you?”
“Almost one-and-twenty.”
For some reason, that fact seemed to encourage her. She scooted closer. “Mama said you were someonereallyspecial, and that I was not to interfere with Graham’s business. Did he propose last night?”
Propose? The girl was deluded. Were all eight-year-olds so out of touch with reality? “Your brother and I are absolutelynotengaged, and never will be.”
She frowned, pouted, grunted. “Whyever not?”
“Because—” I stopped myself from saying,because he ruined my life,and instead finished with, “He is very disagreeable.”
