the tilt which lifted them to beautiful. Lacking either, she had decided to surrender all vanity. "If I was popular, you must thank the viscount. His shenanigans received a great deal of notice."
"Oh, that's right. I wonder if he'll be at the Durhams' dinner tomorrow?"
She shrugged and reached again for her tea. "I doubt it. They do not get on, you know."
"How sad."
"Its by his own doing. Don't waste your pity on that scalawag." And then, because she did not like Ana's continuing fixation on the viscount, she changed the subject. "Did you enjoy your chat with Mr. Pagett?"
Ana blushed. "He is very kind. He said he would pay a call tomorrow."
"Lovely." Things were moving right along. "But you will take Sophie with you. If he arrives in a two-seater, you will insist on our barouche." He had pulled this trick before, and Ana had gladly conspired with him. She did not yet grasp how vulnerable a young woman was to missteps—or, for that matter, how easily a gentleman might lose interest thanks to an error of judgment which he had encouraged.
"I have promised it already," Ana said testily. "Sophie says a letter came from Papa?"
"Yes. He's preparing a shipment, and wanted me to contact his clients."
"Did he send any word for me?"
"I'm sorry, dearest. It was all business."
Ana wrinkled her nose. "It's always business with him!"
As it must be for the rare scholar who had not inherited a fortune to support his interests. "He's very busy, dear. If he doesn't finish the excavation before the rains begin, the whole season will have gone to waste."
A little sigh was the only acknowledgment Ana paid to this logic. She used to show more sympathy, but lately, Sophie's attitude was coloring her view. "George was saying yesterday that it's a shame Papa never visits us."
Offense brought Lydia upright. "Would he foot the bill for Papa's project? That would certainly make it possible for him to visit. But George never offered."
"Maybe he would." Ana shrugged and wound her fingers together in her lap. "He says the antiquities trade is very lowering for a gentleman. It isn't right, of course, but some people might say that Papa digs in graves for things to sell."
She sucked in a breath. How dare he give voice to such rumors! "Ana, I cannot believe you did not object to this!" Oh, she would not rest until she secured enough money to abandon this trading business! The Egyptian government vetted every piece that Papa exported, but it still opened him to the most intolerable remarks. "Really, have a little loyalty! You live under George's roof, but he is not your father!"
"Of course he isn't." Ana hesitated. "Lyd, why do you and George dislike each other?"
Was she that obvious? "Don't be silly. I simply object to his criticisms of Papa." As Ana's frown deepened, she said more sharply, "He has no right to say such things."
"I know." Ana reached out for her hand. "It's all right. Once I'm married, you can come along with me. I promise it. Why, I shan't marry anyone unless he agrees to let you come!"
The offer might have soothed her, had she not heard Ana make a similar declaration last week about her puppy—who, despite their best efforts, continued to piddle on the carpet and chew up slippers. "How kind," she said dryly. "But when you find this paragon, do have a care." She reached down and gave Ana's hem a yank. "He may feel that only actresses flash their ankles."
"How rude!" Ana sprang off the chair. "And I was only trying to be nice!" Stalking over to the sideboard, she made an officious show of rearranging a bouquet.
Embarrassed of herself, Lydia began to apologize— and then Ana bent over, showcasing her newfangled bustle in all its glory. Lydia's mouth snapped shut. She had objected to it at the milliner's, but Sophie had overruled her. As a result, Anas backside now occupied three times the space that nature had intended for it, and quivered so violently that one might assume a small animal lurked beneath her skirts.
"Oh, that's right. I wonder if he'll be at the Durhams' dinner tomorrow?"
She shrugged and reached again for her tea. "I doubt it. They do not get on, you know."
"How sad."
"Its by his own doing. Don't waste your pity on that scalawag." And then, because she did not like Ana's continuing fixation on the viscount, she changed the subject. "Did you enjoy your chat with Mr. Pagett?"
Ana blushed. "He is very kind. He said he would pay a call tomorrow."
"Lovely." Things were moving right along. "But you will take Sophie with you. If he arrives in a two-seater, you will insist on our barouche." He had pulled this trick before, and Ana had gladly conspired with him. She did not yet grasp how vulnerable a young woman was to missteps—or, for that matter, how easily a gentleman might lose interest thanks to an error of judgment which he had encouraged.
"I have promised it already," Ana said testily. "Sophie says a letter came from Papa?"
"Yes. He's preparing a shipment, and wanted me to contact his clients."
"Did he send any word for me?"
"I'm sorry, dearest. It was all business."
Ana wrinkled her nose. "It's always business with him!"
As it must be for the rare scholar who had not inherited a fortune to support his interests. "He's very busy, dear. If he doesn't finish the excavation before the rains begin, the whole season will have gone to waste."
A little sigh was the only acknowledgment Ana paid to this logic. She used to show more sympathy, but lately, Sophie's attitude was coloring her view. "George was saying yesterday that it's a shame Papa never visits us."
Offense brought Lydia upright. "Would he foot the bill for Papa's project? That would certainly make it possible for him to visit. But George never offered."
"Maybe he would." Ana shrugged and wound her fingers together in her lap. "He says the antiquities trade is very lowering for a gentleman. It isn't right, of course, but some people might say that Papa digs in graves for things to sell."
She sucked in a breath. How dare he give voice to such rumors! "Ana, I cannot believe you did not object to this!" Oh, she would not rest until she secured enough money to abandon this trading business! The Egyptian government vetted every piece that Papa exported, but it still opened him to the most intolerable remarks. "Really, have a little loyalty! You live under George's roof, but he is not your father!"
"Of course he isn't." Ana hesitated. "Lyd, why do you and George dislike each other?"
Was she that obvious? "Don't be silly. I simply object to his criticisms of Papa." As Ana's frown deepened, she said more sharply, "He has no right to say such things."
"I know." Ana reached out for her hand. "It's all right. Once I'm married, you can come along with me. I promise it. Why, I shan't marry anyone unless he agrees to let you come!"
The offer might have soothed her, had she not heard Ana make a similar declaration last week about her puppy—who, despite their best efforts, continued to piddle on the carpet and chew up slippers. "How kind," she said dryly. "But when you find this paragon, do have a care." She reached down and gave Ana's hem a yank. "He may feel that only actresses flash their ankles."
"How rude!" Ana sprang off the chair. "And I was only trying to be nice!" Stalking over to the sideboard, she made an officious show of rearranging a bouquet.
Embarrassed of herself, Lydia began to apologize— and then Ana bent over, showcasing her newfangled bustle in all its glory. Lydia's mouth snapped shut. She had objected to it at the milliner's, but Sophie had overruled her. As a result, Anas backside now occupied three times the space that nature had intended for it, and quivered so violently that one might assume a small animal lurked beneath her skirts.
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