Page 9 of The Trouble with Anna

“Shall we go to the park tomorrow?” asked Anna.

“Tomorrow I’m off to the country.” Caroline leaned down to press a kiss on her daughter’s flushed cheek. “No moping! I’ll be back soon enough and I’ll bring you a lovely present.”

Of course, Anna’s mother hadn’t returned from the country. Her carriage had crashed, and it killed the coachman, Caroline, and the married nobleman she’d been traveling with. Caroline Reston, always so bright and laughing, was shut up in a wooden box and the scandal she’d left behind lived long after she did. And now there was another wooden box, another funeral, and once again the queasy feeling of the ground falling away beneath Anna’s feet.

“Anna! Anna!” A voice rang out from the woods beside the meadow.

She looked up to see Charlotte waving from the back of a horse.

Anna gave a slight cue and the massive Thoroughbred threw his weight into his haunches, his back hooves carving grooves into the ground as they slowed. “Charlotte!” she called. “I hadnothingto do with that repulsive will. I wouldnever—”

Charlotte galloped over. “Of course you wouldn’t!”

“Then why do you look so angry?”

“I’m angry at your grandfather, you twit! My brother, too! I wish I had a basket of rotten eggs at the ready. Oh, my poor Anna! How could they be so horrid?”

Anna’s eyes went bright and she snapped them shut. “It’s the worst part. That my grandfather…”

“Anna?”

Anna shook her head.

Charlotte reached over and grabbed her hand. “You have to say the most horrible things out loud. That’s how they lose their power. That’s how you turn them from nightmares into problems to solve.” She thought a moment. “Either that, or we egg your grandfather’s gravestone?”

For the first time since her grandfather died, Anna laughed. “Yes, let’s!”

Charlotte peeped over at her. “Do you really lose everything in six months? Surely your grandfather setsomethingaside?”

“I have a small living from my father. Enough to stretch to a cottage.” Not enough to keep Chatham. Not even enough to keep a horse. Anna took a deep breath. “That’s the other worst part—it all goes to my cousin Simon in six months, who will only gamble it away. Most of the servants will be fine, but Hutchins and some of the others are getting older and—”

“Anna, really! You’re allowed a minute to spare for your own problems.”

Charlotte jumped down off her horse, and for the first time Anna saw her properly. Her forehead wrinkled. Charlotte wore a cherry-red riding habit with yards and yards of skirt and a jacket that was much too tight for proper galloping. Worst of all was the black top hat that Charlotte had perched at an improbable angle over her right eye. Surely it was much too big and would slip down and blind her at the first fence?

“Are you quitecomfortableriding in that?” Anna asked, slipping down off Decimus.

“Lord, no! It’s shocking for anything except the most sedate canter. But it’s tremendous for swishing around town. I can’t tell you how much fun I’ve had brandishing my hat at people. It’s my brother’s, you know—I nicked it from him.”

“Well done.”

“Oh, look! I must show you my embroidery.” Charlotte lifted up a flounce on her skirt to reveal a swirling line of secret writing that spelled out:If you must break a law, do it to seize power.“Julius Caesar. It’s my motto for this year’s Season.”

“Extremely well done!”

The two young women fell into pace beside each other, leading their horses. They were so terribly different, only it never seemed to matter for the month each year when Charlotte was at Mayne, or the rest of the year when they put the Royal Mail through its paces. But surely one day—Anna peeked down at her own riding habit, which she had to admit was rather awful—one daysoon,Charlotte would start to feel their differences. Surely she would start to mind.

Charlotte tilted her head. “I suppose the easiest thing would be to take you to London and find you a husband?”

“Ha!” barked Anna. The stark planes of Lord Ramsay’s face flashed into Anna’s mind, and she pushed him firmly out again. What would going to London help? She couldn’t quite picture a man gazing at her across a ballroom and thinking,Aha! Look at that small woman! I shall give her my fortune and hope she rescues the servants from her old estate and buys a great many horses!“I don’t want a husband,” she said firmly. “I’d much rather have a really good horse.”

Charlotte choked out a laugh. “Don’t let the gentlemen hear you say that.”

“I mean it! I just want a stable of my own—apurposeof my own.” She sighed. “Or at the very least a livelihood.”

Charlotte considered. “If you control Chatham until your cousin takes over, might you simply skim a bit off the top?”

“Charlotte!”

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