He saw hope beginning to replace the abject fearfulness that had been her distinguishing feature before.
“I suppose... I suppose if I trusted you and left with you it couldn’t be much worse than what I’m meant to endure here.”
Dex nodded. “I know it’s a lot to ask. I give you my word as a gentleman that no harm will come to you. And my friends and I will come back for Susan, and any of your friends who are being mistreated here, if they wish to leave.”
“W-why are you helping us?” she asked, looking up with bewildered but brightening eyes.
Flashing green eyes and small fists battering his chest.I’ll be no man’s doxy.Miss Crewe’s brave words echoed through his mind. If he’d been even one day later... if the avaricious Madame had trapped her here...
He swallowed, choking back the wave of revulsion and anger that swamped him. “Because I know an innocent young lady who was once headed toward the very same sad fate.”
Chapter Nine
He had spent so many centuries alone that he’d almost forgotten where his heart was, but watching the princess explore the cave, so small, so determined to find her way out, reminded him of its location. Something was stirring in his chest, something that had almost disappeared. Qavox thrashed his tail restlessly against a heap of jewels. Why could he not offer her a small amount of assistance? He was a dragon, after all. He could do whatever he chose.
—The Dragon and the Blue Starby Analise Crewe
“No, no, again! You must start over,” Lady Glynis exclaimed. “Have you truly never curtsied? How is that possible, a young woman of your previous station as a gentleman’s daughter?” Disbelief animated her normally stern demeanor.
Ana shifted her shoulders, biting her tongue in frustration. She had practiced this simple movement for the better part of an hour and seemed no closer to mastering it than ever. She found that as soon as she sank into the correct attitude, she wanted to spring right back up, the better to observe the world around her.
She found the deferential posture incredibly boring. Eyes thatwere cast down couldn’t take in the details that fed her soul, triggering the flights of fancy that made up her very being. She supposed she’d curtsied plenty as a youth, but nobody had judged her with the steely concentration of Lady Glynis. Her father had certainly never spoken up, if he’d found her grace or comportment lacking.
She’d never paid much attention to any of the etiquette lessons forced upon her by governesses and schoolmistresses. Those were hours for daydreaming about the future, for making up versions of her life, paths she might go down. She’d become a celebrated authoress. She’d marry a handsome lord and host London’s most celebrated literary salon.
The only lessons that truly held her interest were any related to writing and reading. Her tutors had never emphasized the subjects overmuch, but their desultory approach had suited her perfectly. She was given leave to play in her father’s library, steep herself in the classics, explore newer voices in poetry and prose. Her particular favorite was Mary Darby Robinson, whose poems spoke so movingly to the ever-changing roles of women within society, weaving the romantic and the political with skill and poignancy.
She bowed her head and sank down once more—but missed her mark and kept on sinking, dwindling into a petite heap of skirts upon the floor. Lady Glynis gave an exasperated sigh. “You’re not even trying.”
Ana endured another lecture forbidding her to express her real opinions, directing her to cast her eyes down modestly, and, above all, to hide her crooked teeth and knobby elbows.
Four hours later, she collapsed into a chair in her new chamber. “The drill sergeant has left the building,” she said to Tessie, who giggled as she helped Ana unlace the tight gown and slip into a day dress that was far more comfortable.
“They should have sent Lady Glynis to face Napoleon. She would have lectured him on etiquette until he surrendered if only to stop her from droning on.”
“You’re a naughty pupil, milady.”
“I’m an unwilling pupil.”
“But why don’t you want to attend a ball and dance with handsome gents? I’ve never even dared dream of such things.”
Because what was the point? Every moment she wasn’t writing her book, she wasn’t coming any closer to achieving her dream. “I know I should be grateful. I have this contrary streak in me, something that chafes against rules and orders. I can’t hold my tongue. It got me into ever so much trouble at school. I was always being sent to my room without supper or being held up as an example of what not to do for the other girls.”
“I think you’re lovely, I do. Don’t change to please someone else. Even if he is your guardian.”
“I’m only pretending to change. It’s easier than arguing with my stoic guardian and his imperious aunt. Besides, it gives me more time to write.”
“I’m looking forward to reading your novel, so you’d better keep writing.”
“Thank you for the encouragement. I should like to write two chapters this afternoon.”
“I have faith in you. I’ll leave you to your work.”
When Tessie was gone, Ana finally settled in at her desk. She was occupying a room with only a partial view of the square. If she angled herself just so, she could still see Cygnette’s house, though she didn’t have nearly as expansive a vantage point.
None of the servants would tell her why she wasn’t allowed to occupy the forbidden room with the odd assortment of femalegarments, including one that had looked remarkably like a wedding gown, in the wardrobe. They pretended not to hear, or said something along the lines of “It’s locked up by the Duke’s orders, ma’am,” then pressed their lips together and refused to offer anything more on the subject. Perhaps they were the garments of the woman he’d thought himself in love with. But then, why were they still hanging there?
And she didn’t even know where to begin to find out anything more about that intriguing list of names she’d found on the duke’s bedstand. Tessie had professed no knowledge of why she might be included, suggesting that it was a common enough name. Ana had recited the names to McArdle with the hopes that he could shed light on it (maybe it was a hiring list of potential staff, if Tessie had been included, maybe before she was hired?) but he’d dismissed her inquiry with a look of such withering scorn that even she’d felt the need to retreat. Another dead end.