Percy returned from his attempted meeting with Anna and found his father waiting for him in his chambers.

“Oh, Father…”

The Duke stood as Percy entered; his walking stick was in his hand, not for support, but ready to strike if need be.

“Did you see her?”

“I did.”

“And how did it go? Do you have any progress to report?”

Percy turned away to his desk so as not to let his father see his face, and said, “She was most welcoming and cordial. Of course, she is currently consumed with the preparations for the memorial service and we were unable to discuss more than her efforts for those arrangements.”

“But did she seem sympathetic to you?”

Percy turned back to his father with a bright expression. “Oh, yes. She smiled, and we briefly discussed the flowers for the service.”

The Duke was becoming impatient. “Flowers! What does that have to do with the two of you marrying? What else? Did you say anything that might further your suit with her?”

“I told her of my deep esteem and suggested that soon after the memorial service I should like to take her for a walk or a ride.”

This agitated the Duke even more. “Oh, Percy. You are useless! Love! You must discuss love, children, the future. Those are the things that will lead her to accept you as a husband.”

“I did suggest that she should come here to dinner. I said I wanted her to meet you and Mother. She said she had already met you both several times, but I said that was only superficially and that I wanted her to get to know you in a deeper more meaningful way. I wanted to say—get to know you as family—but I thought it was too soon to suggest that.”

That seemed to mollify the Duke and he grinned. “Excellent. Yes, we must invite the two sisters to a fine dinner. After the memorial service—but as soon as possible after. That was a good idea, Percy. I can see you are taking this seriously and I can begin to get my affairs in order so that once the marriage is concluded, I can begin to settle debts and look to the future.”

Percy took a deep breath as his father left. Of course, what he had told his father was pure fiction, but at least he escaped another blow to the head.

“I hope we are not intruding,” Maria said to Anna and Dorothy who were in their father’s room sorting through his possessions—saving some articles and discarding others.

Anna looked up. “Never. You are always welcome.”

At that point Harry, who had been lagging behind, came into the room after her.

Anna gave Harry a wide smile. “Harry, you came too. How nice. I am sorry we are dressed like this. We did not want to wear our mourning dresses that might get dirty as we worked.”

“We quite understand,” Harry replied.

“Did you come for any particular reason?” Anna asked as she paused in her work.

Maria said, “We would like to have a word with you privately, Anna.” She then addressed Dorothy, “You do not mind if we take your sister away for a short while?”

“Not at all. I am up to my knees packing away undergarments, braces, and cravats, and I think I shall take a brief break myself.”

“Come,” Anna said, leading the brother and sister out of the room and along the hallway to her chambers.

“Shall I order tea?” She asked, as she sat in a window seat overlooking the garden.

“Not now,” Maria said. “This is not a social call.”

Anna furrowed her brow. “Oh, then what?”

Maria turned to Harry to start the narration.

“Forgive me for assuming, but it is my understanding that for some time now you have had romantic feelings for my good friend, Percy. Is that assumption correct?”

Anna lowered her eyes and nodded. “I have harbored some feelings of affection for him that is true. But he has never shown any particular interest in reciprocating those feelings. Until recently, that is. Ever since father passed… he has been very solicitous and has given some indication that he has feelings for me as well.”

Maria leaned forward in her chair, “And do you believe they are sincere?”

“Why should I not?” Anna asked, confused as to why Percy’s feelings should be doubted.

Maria continued, “You know I support you, as your dear friend, and wish all the greatest happiness for you—always.”

“But you have feelings for him too,” Anna said, “Is that why you are questioning me about this? Has he said anything to you?” She stood close in defiance.

“No, he has not. But he did ask me recently what amount of dowry I could bring to a marriage with him. And, unfortunately, it did not seem to be enough and he shied away from me after that.”

“Then you think he is expressing his feelings of affection to me because he now sees me as an heiress?” She appeared to be horrified by the idea.

Maria turned to Harry. “Tell her of your incident with Percy.”

“Anna,” Harry started, “it pains me no end to tell you this, but I believe Percy’s father is insisting he marry you, not out of affection, but out of the necessity to marry for money. Apparently, the Duke is on the edge of financial collapse and is trying to force Percy to find a wealthy wife.”

Anna put her hand to her mouth, let out a small cry and sat down again. “Harry, is what you speak the truth? It is almost impossible for me to believe this. What is your motive in telling me this?”

“I am simply concerned for your welfare. That is all.”

“Are you certain? For I have had the feeling many times that you might be harboring secret feelings for me as well. And if that is the case, then I believe what you really want is to sour my affections toward Percy by making me believe he is only after my inheritance.”

There was enough truth in what she said to make Harry pause, but he continued, “Even if that were so, I do not want you to enter into a loveless marriage, because I believe it is Maria that Percy truly loves. It is only his father who is making him approach you, Anna.”

Anna stood up and coolly said, “I thank you for your concern, but I believe it to be misguided. I know you to be dear and true friends, and I know that you say these things to me out of love. However, I do believe Percy’s affections to be true and I intend to consider his suit to me if he should make it. Now, unless there is something else, I must get back to sorting my father’s clothes. And then I must begin going through his papers and his desk.”

Maria said, “If Warrick is available I should like to have a few words with him about the memorial service food. He asked me for some recipes and I have them with me.”

Anna went to the service bell and rang it. “He should be here shortly, and he can let you out.” And with that she left the room.

Harry and Maria looked at each other in astonishment.

“That did not go well,” Harry said.

“Not at all. But we have done what we could do. I fear for her happiness—and mine—but we did the best we could,” Maria said sadly.

“Yes, I fear her mind is set.” And for a brief moment Harry wondered if he should have so firmly closed the door on Miss Fitzwalker—but he knew it had been the right thing to do.

Because Dorothy and Anna had planned to sort through their father’s effects all day, Dorothy had put Christopher off until the evening when she had invited him to supper.

Both sisters were slowly recovering from the initial shock of their father’s death and life was slowly coming back to normal. However, their new black dresses were still required for all social occasions. It did not trouble Anna all that much to wear black, but Dorothy was very near rebellion over the disgusting dresses.

As she came into the drawing room before Christopher arrived, she pulled at the dress and made a disgusted face. “Oh, Anna, is there no way to escape these dreadful dresses except at the most formal public occasions?”

Anna looked up from the book she was reading from her father’s library and said, “But this is a public occasion. You have a guest.”

“Yes, but Christopher is not any ordinary guest. He is my fiancé—practically family already.”

“But he is not—yet. Certainly, you do not want to get a reputation as a social miscreant?”

Dorothy pouted and plopped herself down in a chair and threw her head back to gaze up at the ceiling. “I hate it all.”

“But you do not hate being engaged, I am guessing.”

“Well, no. Not that.”

“Then you do not want your future husband to think you are a social misfit, do you?”

“Oh, he would love me even if I was the most brazen reprobate.”

“I doubt that, my dear sister.”

Warrick then presented himself, “Mr. Christopher has arrived, Miss Dorothy.”

“Yes, send him in.”

Christopher bounded into the room even before Warrick could call him. He bounced over to Dorothy, plucked her out of her chair, and gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “I cannot tell you how much I have missed you today. I am so used to visiting in the morning, I found myself with nothing to do but help Harry deliver another one of his infernal calves.”

“And I have been sorting through father’s dusty, musty old clothes and, I can tell you, that was no treat either.”

“Might you like an aperitif, Mr. Stewart?” Warrick asked.

“I think I will have a gin with a twist of lemon—if you have any—this evening, thank you.” Christopher replied.

“Sir…” Warrick went to the sideboard to prepare the drink.

Christopher received his drink and sat. “How are preparations going for the service?”

“As well as can be expected,” Anna answered. “All of the invitations have gone out and we are awaiting replies. However, we expect a large gathering, as father had many friends and a number of colleagues from the East India Company.”

“I thought of having you invite my parents, so they could meet you both, but decided against it as they do not know your family and it did not seem to be the time nor place to announce our engagement.” But Christopher brightened when he said, “I want to save the surprise for when you come to visit me in Dorset.”

“I do look forward to that,” Dorothy said gleefully. Then she turned to her sister. “You will come with me, Anna? Yes?”

Anna had been troubled all day after Harry and Maria’s visit. She could not get what they had told her about Percy out of her mind. Dear Percy… could it be true what they told her? But why would they make up such a story? No. She could not reconcile the tender feelings she felt for him with the picture they painted of his mercenary intentions to marry her only for the inheritance. No. No, and again no. Perhaps a trip with Dorothy to visit Christopher’s parents would be the perfect thing to do in order to remove herself from the situation and give her time to sort through her thoughts and feelings.

“Yes, I will. I think it would do us both a great deal of good to get away for a while. And I should like to meet your parents, Christopher.”