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"True." Damen bit into a biscuit, chewing it thoroughly, then swallowing before he spoke. "But you were hardly in danger. The viscount's carriage took you directly to my bank, where my entire staff had been alerted to your arrival." A pointed look at George. "Your niece was in good hands."
"I'm sure she was." George's jaw tightened as he spoke. "Nevertheless, we have her reputation to consider—even though her business with you was just that—business. She still should have secured my permission and taken her lady's maid with her." He dismissed the matter with an adamant flourish, his shoulders stiff as he commenced eating his meal.
Anastasia and Breanna exchanged glances.
Silence descended, punctuated only by the clinking of china and crystal—and a few undisguised, meaningful glares by George, aimed at the girl he thought to be Breanna.
Anastasia shifted uncomfortably in her chair, fully aware what she was being ordered to do—what Breanna was being ordered to do. But how did one initiate a courtship? More important, how would her cousin do so?
The truth was, she wouldn't.
Weighing that knowledge against the unspoken command in her uncle's eyes, Anastasia wracked her brain for a solution. Deliberately, she avoided her uncle's blistering stare, choosing instead to toy with her breakfast as she pondered how on earth to approach Damen in a manner that even remotely fit her cousin's more reserved demeanor.
"Breanna, what did you do yesterday while your cousin and I were hard at work?" Damen inquired, breaking the silence and providing just the opening Anastasia needed.
Nearly sagging with relief, she folded her napkin neatly in her lap. "I have to admit, I was lonely." Good start, Anastasia, she commended herself. It makes you sound wistful. Keep it up and Damen will have no choice but to gallantly offer you some time in his company. "The truth is, I've grown accustomed to having Stacie home," she confessed in Breanna's quiet, vulnerable tone. "I never realized until now how seldom I'm among people, and how much I enjoy sharing my thoughts with a sympathetic listener."
Self-consciously, she broke off, pausing to sip at her tea. "In any case, that's not what you asked. Let's see. I took an early morning walk, before it became too hot. Then I went to the library and read. That helped the morning pass. And Stacie returned before lunch."
Damen nodded, giving her a warm smile. "After which, I'm sure you spent the afternoon together."
"We usually do." Anastasia smiled back, responsively but demurely. "Stacie and I have a lot of years to catch up on, my lord."
"And you've come alive since she returned," he noted, polishing off the last bite of his breakfast. "You're like another woman these days. It's wonderful to see—a beautiful butterfly emerging from its cocoon."
"Goodness, I hope that doesn't mean I was a caterpillar before."
"Not at all." Damen chuckled. "Just a shyer butterfly."
George shoved away his plate—his food only half-eaten. "I have a splendid idea," he declared, looking decidedly more cheerful than he had a few minutes earlier. "Breanna, I recall your mentioning something about wanting to seek Lord Sheldrake's advice on that trust fund your grandfather left you. Why not do so now, right after you finish breakfast? I have some papers to go through before I'm ready to meet with the marquess. And it's a shame for him to sit here idle, especially given that it's such a beautiful day. Why don't you walk down to the stream, stroll through the gardens?"
Anastasia gave her uncle an obedient smile. "Of course, Father. That's a good idea." She inclined her head uncertainly at Damen. "If Lord Sheldrake wouldn't mind, that is."
"Mind? I'd enjoy the company." Abandoning his own meal, Damen pushed back his chair and stood. "I'm ready whenever you are."
Gracefully, Anastasia rose, resisting the urge to do her usual bolting to her feet. "Would you excuse us, Father?"
"Of course. Anastasia and I still have to finish our meal. So take your time."
The real Anastasia shot her cousin a questioning look. "You don't mind, do you, Stacie?"
"Of course not," Breanna retorted in her cousin's bold tone. "You two go and enjoy yourselves."
It took all Anastasia's restraint not to succumb to laughter. Instead, she took Damen's arm and let him lead her from the dining room through the hallway, toward the entranceway door.
From his post, Wells watched their approach, straightening in surprise. "Miss Breanna. Are you leaving?"
"No, Wells. Lord Sheldrake and I are just going for a walk. We'll be back soon."
"I see." The butler frowned. "Your father knows this?"
"Of course."
"Very well then." He opened the door. "Don't wander far."
Anastasia stifled another grin. "We won't."
"Your butler is very protective," Damen commented, tucking Anastasia's arm through his as they headed away from the manor.
