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Once she had sent word to Phoebe, telling her about the mess she had gotten herself into, Phoebe had sent word back at once, promising to handle it and invite Anna to her estate the next day.
“On short notice is exactly why I wanted to be on top of things, for your sake, dearest.” Phoebe cooed, and reached over to tap the tip of Anna's nose, exactly as she had done when Anna was younger and sulking over some childhood grievance.
It never failed to make Anna laugh, even now, even amid the wreckage of ribbon and lace scattered across the room.
“Anna, darling, you helped me plan my entire wedding in considerably less time than this, and under considerably more trying circumstances. I am glad to be of use to you in return.”
Anna glanced around the room, surveyed the mess, and could not help the small, disbelieving laugh that escaped her. “This sort of chaos feels rather familiar to you, then.”
“Achingly familiar,” Phoebe nodded, with a grin. “Though I recall considerably fewer ribbons the first time around, and a lot more anxiety around whether or not I would be able to grow close to my husband.”
“And now you both are hopelessly in love,” Anna sighed wistfully, smiling at her sister.
Phoebe giggled. “That we are. But he is not the one who concerns me right now. Tell me truthfully — have you been eating well? You look thinner than when I saw you last.”
“You saw me last week,” Anna stated indignantly.
“Yes, I did. But a lot of things have changed since then, have they not?”
Her sister had a fair point, so she begrudgingly allowed her to enjoy her victory over Anna while it lasted.
“I am fine. Perhaps I simply forget to eat now and then, given the circumstances.” Anna mumbled, hanging her head like a scolded child.
“Well, we shall have to remedy that before the wedding. A bride fainting at her own vows would give the scandal sheets considerably more to write about than they already have.” Phoebe reached for the teapot, pouring a fresh cup and serving a few finger sandwiches onto a plate , before offering them to her sister. “Drink and eat those, at least, while we work. I shall not have you wasting away on my watch. Not when we have a demanding week ahead of us.”
Anna accepted the cup obediently, if only to avoid further fussing, and took a grateful sip.
“I have been eating perfectly well, Phoebe.”
“And Rowland — he is not teasing you, is he? You know how he gets when he thinks no one is watching.”
Anna laughed outright at that. “Rowland wishes he could even attempt to tease me. He knows better by now. I have had years of practice defending myself against him.”
“He was rather protective of you this week, from what Edward tells me. He very nearly challenged the duke to a duel over breakfast, I hear.”
“He very nearly did,” Anna confirmed, laughing despite herself at the memory. “I have never seen Rowland so thoroughly outraged. I believe he had already begun composing his second in his head before I managed to talk him down from it.”
“That does sound like him.” Phoebe's expression turned fond, though a trace of worry lingered beneath it, quickly smoothed away. “He does love you fiercely, whatever mischief the two of you get up to at each other's expense.”
“I know he does. It is rather the only reason I tolerate his teasing at all.”
“That is true enough,” Phoebe conceded, smiling, though the smile softened into something warmer, something Anna had seen only rarely on her sister's face before Rebecca's birth.
So, she asked, “Is Edward treating you well? I know he can be rather overbearing when he sets his mind to something.”
Phoebe laughed, waving a hand in the air dismissively. “Edward has been wonderful, as ever. He has taken to reading Rebecca his correspondence in the mornings, on the theory that she ought to be exposed to matters of business from the cradle. I have told him repeatedly that a six-month-old child has no interest in shipping manifests, and he has told me repeatedly that I underestimate our daughter's intellect.”
“That sounds precisely like him.”
“It is precisely like him, and it is also, infuriatingly, one of the things I love best about him.” Phoebe's expression softened further still.
“How is my darling girl? Rebecca. I confess I have thought of nothing else all morning.” Anna admitted, wishing she was holding her niece instead of working towards a bleak future she was not ready for.
“She is your niece through and through, which is to say she has already learned to get precisely what she wants simply by looking pitiful,” Phoebe's whole face lit up as she spoke about her child. “I did not know it was possible to love anyone the way I love her, Anna. I love you, and Rowland, more than I can say — you know that. But this is different. Raising a child, watching her grow, doing it alongside a man who loves her every bit as fiercely as I do — there is nothing in this world I would trade for it.”
Anna's smile faltered, only slightly, though not slightly enough to escape her sister's notice. She looked down at the catalogue in her lap, at a bride illustrated mid—laugh, her groom's hand resting at the small of her back, and felt something small and aching settle in her chest.
She was not certain she would ever know that. Whatever else her marriage to Hudson might bring her — security, a title, an end to scandal — it seemed unlikely to bring her that particular kind of joy.
