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Breanna was already hugging her. "That's just the news I wanted to hear. And it's all the more reason for us to resolve things quickly. What a beautiful bride you're going to make," she added, drawing back to dab at her eyes. "Although I do wonder if you'll be able to make it through an entire ceremony and a wedding breakfast without tearing your dress or tousling your hair."
"I doubt it," Anastasia returned, squeezing Breanna's hands fiercely. "My saving grace will be having you as my bridal attendant—which you will be, right?"
"Just try and stop me." Breanna drew a calming breath. "We have lots of planning to do. First, we've got to think up a way to help Damen find out what Father is up to. After that, we have a wedding to arrange." Her fingertips grazed Anastasia's coin. "Put that treasure away. It's time to get dressed and go for our stroll. I have a feeling we're about to come up with something."
Savoring the coin's comforting shape, Anastasia could actually sense her grandfather's presence, as if he were gifting them with his love and his strength. "You know what, Breanna? I have the same feeling."
* * *
Wells was fidgeting.
Anastasia noticed it as soon as she and Breanna caught sight of him from the other end of the hallway.
Breanna noticed it, too, for she cast a swift, curious glance at her cousin, who shrugged in reply.
Something was definitely amiss.
Wells never fidgeted.
"Wells? Are you feeling all right?" Anastasia asked as they approached the entranceway door.
The butler started, his brows drawing together as he turned to study them. "I? Yes, Miss Stacie, I'm fine. I was actually just contemplating the two of you, wondering if I'd be overstepping my bou
nds if I were to awaken you."
"You could never overstep your bounds with us. But was there some reason you needed to awaken us; something in particular you wanted?"
"No, no. It's just that it's such a lovely day, I thought you might prefer having a private breakfast served to you in the east gardens. Right now—while the sun is still making its glorious assent."
"I see." Breanna was openly regarding him as if trying to decipher the cause of his odd behavior. "Ironically, Stacie and I were just headed to that very place for a stroll. Breakfast there would be lovely. Wells, are you sure you're feeling all right?"
Pressing his lips together, the butler nodded. "Quite all right, Miss Breanna, thank you." A distinct pause. "However, I am concerned about the two of you. You look peaked."
"I suppose we are. We've been up most of the night." Breanna hesitated, shot her cousin a sidelong look.
"We have a great deal on our minds," Anastasia added. She had the oddest feeling Wells was steering the conversation in a specific direction.
"Then a walk will do you good," the butler declared, adjusting his spectacles and peering intently at a stray thread on his sleeve. "And it all works out quite well—the timing, that is. You'll be gone for several hours, which should give the gentlemen ample time to conclude their meeting."
"What gentlemen?" Anastasia jumped on the butler's words at once. "What meeting?"
Slowly, Wells raised his head, met Anastasia's gaze head-on. "I really can't say, Miss Stacie. No one is to know who our guest is or when he arrives. My job is to maintain my silence, and to assure your uncle the privacy he's requested. You're both to remain absent from the manor, starting from about a half hour from now." With that, Wells clasped his hands behind his back, all traces of fidgeting gone. "I've done as I was asked. How you two respond is entirely up to you."
Anastasia's eyes had grown round as saucers. "You're advising us to stay here," she breathed. "You think we should know who Uncle George is meeting with—and what they're meeting about."
"Your grandfather did so enjoy the earliest hours of morning," Wells declared. "He always claimed he made his best discoveries then, before the world was awake to clutter his thinking."
"That is what you're saying," Breanna concurred.
Wells's glance flickered over them, and his voice quavered ever so slightly. "You two were the light of your grandfather's life. Nothing would mean more to him than ensuring your safety. Not duty, not faithfulness, not even loyalty. Nothing."
On impulse, Anastasia stepped forward, reaching up and kissing the butler's cheek. "Thank you, Wells. Grandfather was lucky to have you. And so are we."
A hard swallow. "Be careful," he cautioned. "Both of you."
"Don't worry. We will."
Tender amusement softened Wells's features. "You two were always the very finest of eavesdroppers. I suspect you still are."
