Page 46 of Anastasia and the Duke
In just a few weeks, life had presented her with not one, but two, people who cared for her--and even loved her. It was difficult to imagine returning to a life where she had only herself and her wits to rely on.
"There you are, dear," Lady Lansdowne beamed as Hannah entered the room. The day's newspapers were spread out before her on the table, and Hannah knew that she was combing them for any mention of Hawkfield.
"Is everything alright?" Lady Lansdowne peered at Hannah with concern, as she slipped into her seat, "You look like you haven't slept a wink."
"I didn't sleep much," Hannah admitted, with a wan smile, as she reached for a slice of brioche.
"I shall have Gibbons slather you in plenty of Olympea Dew later," the countess decided, "So you look well rested for this evening's outing. I do hope Hawkfield will show his face; it's strange that we haven't seen him these past few days."
Hannah, who had seen the duke only yesterdayandshared a passionate embrace with him, made no comment. If she were to tell Lady Lansdowne that, she might choke on her croissant.
"I know it has been a while since I have chaperoned a season, but I did think a proposal was imminent," the countess continued, furrowing her brow, "With Maria, Morris' eldest girl, I knew after a week that Lord MacLeod was going to propose--though I tried to dissuade her from accepting, for Scotland is so cold and far away. And with Giselle, why, the whole room knew what was happening when she and the comte first set eyes on each other..."
Lady Lansdowne trailed off, her eyes looking not at Hannah, but into the past. A slight smile tugged at her lips, despite her obvious sorrow, as she recalled much happier times.
"How did they meet?" Hannah queried, wishing to hear more.
"They met at the Assembly Rooms, in Bath," Lady Lansdowne turned her eyes towards Hannah, "I had gone to take the waters and Giselle had accompanied me. We hadn't planned to attend, but the day had been warm and filled with the promise of spring, and we decided it would be a waste to end such a beautiful evening by going to bed."
Regret and what-ifs accompanied Lady Lansdowne's words--unsaid, but there none the less. What if the two ladies had simply decided to go to bed that night, instead of the Assembly Rooms, would Giselle still be alive? Would she have met another gentleman, an English one, and now be safely ensconced in the Home Counties with a brace of offspring whose grandmother doted on them?
"Pierre--the Comte de Bonneval--was on a tour of England at the time," Lady Lansdowne continued, her thin fingers plucking at the tablecloth, "He had stopped in Bath to meet with friends--a last minute decision, he had planned to go to Cheltenham, but the races were postponed. He was already at the Assembly Rooms when we arrived, and the moment Giselle walked in the door, any fool could see he had fallen in love. He froze mid-step--as though he had hit his head--and once he had recovered himself, he was by her side for the whole night...for the rest of her life, actually, he never left her side again."
"How romantic," Hannah breathed, though tears pricked her eyes at the knowledge of how the beautiful love story had ended in tragedy.
"Sometimes, I wonder," the countess began, before shaking her head to banish the thought, "No, it's best not to think that way. Fate brought them together and, despite everything, I remember only how they were so in love. Not just with each other, but with Anastasia, when she came along a few years later. One can't regret love, there's so little of it in this world."
Lady Lansdowne cleared her throat, and made a great fuss of slathering jam onto her croissant, though her shaking hands belied her upset.
Hannah, filled with sadness at the tragic tale of Giselle and hercomte, was now also filled with guilt. What type of monster was she, to even think of stealing from a woman who had already lost so much?
"I suppose," Lady Lansdowne finally looked up from her plate, to offer Hannah a watery smile, "That I cannot curse fate too much, for it also brought you to me."
"I am not Anastasia," Hannah answered, after a desperate pause in which she wished she could take back every bad thing she had ever done in life, "I swear to you, my lady, I am not."
"You cannot know," Lady Lansdowne argued, her eyes filled with hope, "If you cannot remember--who's to say that you are not?"
"I say," Hannah answered, unable to look the countess in the eye, "I came here under false pretences. I was sent because I looked enough like your daughter that you might think me Anastasia--and you did."
"I," Lady Lansdowne lifted a hand to her neck, to play nervously with the chain she wore, "I don't know what to say, Hannah."
"I was tasked with stealing the treasures your father brought with him from India," Hannah continued, aware she was babbling but unable to stop, for her confession was acting as a catharsis for her guilt, "Iwantedto steal them; I wanted a chance for a new life. I was just as bad as Sidney, but--oh--you have been so kind, that I knew I could not betray you. In the end, I knew I could not. I am sorry, for everything."
There was a silence, as Lady Lansdowne digested all that Hannah had said. It seemed to stretch interminably, until at last, she offered her reply.
"I don't know who this Sidney is," the countess replied, a definite note of distaste in her voice as she uttered Sidney's name, "But you are not as bad as him, Hannah. Not if, in the end, you could not bring yourself to do it. I think, despite your best efforts at trying otherwise, that deep down you're a good girl."
Her words were kind, far too kind than Hannah deserved. She deserved to be screamed at, tossed out into the streets, even thrown into Newgate--she did not deserve kindness.
"I fear, anyway," Lady Lansdowne gave an amused giggle, "That this Sidney's plan would not have worked out, even if you had gone through with it. You see, all my father's treasures are kept in a safe in my bedroom, but there is no key. Sentimental fool that I am, I gave the key to little Anna the last time that I visited France; she wore it on a chain around her neck. If this Mr Pritchard wants the treasures, he would have to find poor Anna first--and if he doesthat, then he is welcome to take anything I own."
"So, they are forever locked away?" Hannah breathed, relieved that Sidney might never get his hands on such riches.
"Morris has had a look at it," Lady Lansdowne smiled, "And he believes that after I'm gone, he'll have to employ a dozen men with sledgehammers to crack it open. So, you see, it would be impossible for anyone to steal them unnoticed."
"I am glad to hear it," Hannah said, most sincerely.
"They're only jewels," Lady Lansdowne shrugged, her tone wistful, "At the end of the day, there are far more important things in life."
