The Robber Princess

Chapter 18. Angels and Devils

Chapter 18

The ersatz Anastasia presented herself at the doorstep of the Big House punctually at one o'clock. It seemed peculiar to her that afternoon tea would be served so early but, assuming that to be a Texas society thing, she did not question it. She wore her last clean outfit—an elegantly understated white dress and matching shoes.

The butler opened the front door, looked at her disapprovingly, and greeted her with a perfunctory "Miss." Angelica was bewildered. The butler escorted her through the house and out to the veranda. Surrounding a round, wrought iron table with four place settings were Mrs. Johnson, Mary Quinn, and Laura Beth, all looking bigger than life.

"Miss ... Anastasia," announced the butler as he pulled out the empty chair for her. Angelica sat down between the two sisters and across from the mother.

"What a lovely white outfit," exclaimed Mary Quinn.

"Sank—tthhank you," replied Angelica, relieved at finally receiving some modicum of approval.

But Mary Quinn, either not hearing her response or caring if she did, continued. "I saw some'n like that at the mawl last season. Ah could never've pulled awf wearin' it, though. Ah'm so impressed with yew—ah could never've had the courage to wear white after Labor Day! And from last season, even. Mah word, yer so braaaave!"

"Zat eez kind of you to say," replied Angelica, smiling. "I 'ave not felt very much brave since some time." Laura Beth stifled a snicker and Mrs. Johnson raised her eyebrow.

"That's enough," said Mrs. Johnson to Mary Quinn, in a stern tone that left Angelica a little bewildered. She blushed a little, wondering if she had said something wrong.

"So, Miss 'Angel' as Jake calls you," said Mrs. Johnson, "I'm afraid I don't even know your last name; Jake said he couldn't pronounce it or even remember it. Perhaps you could enlighten me?"

Angelica had rehearsed this line enough times on the long flight from Dublin to Teterboro that she could rattle it off effortlessly, even while sweetening her tea. "My name is Anastasia Mérigault-Queuillière."

"Well, Miss Mérigault-Queuillière,"—Angelica was deeply impressed that Mrs. Johnson could repeat the name correctly after hearing it only once—"what shall we call you? Anastasia? Angel?"

"Ze name 'Angel' was given to me by Zhake. I find I like 'im calling me zat. I ss-tthhink I would like you to call me it all-so."

"Very well, 'Angel,'" replied Mrs. Johnson, nodding toward her when she said the name, "I was hoping you could tell us more about Nice. I've been to the French Riviera a few times myself, mostly to Cannes and Antibes, but as a tourist. I imagine that being a resident is very different. Tell us about it."

This time Angelica was prepared. "Ze 'ouse eez actually in ze mountains, near from Nice but not in ze city. Eet eez very large, like a palace, but I was very protected ... non, cloistaired, zat eez ze right word? I lived wiss my muzzair and seestair and servants. I almost nevair went to Nice, not even for ze school." All these things were true and Angelica was comfortable speak about them without having to instantly invent a story.

"I am embarrass-sed zat I know so leetel of ze world outside ze palace—sorry, ze 'ouse," she continued. "At 'ome we speak French and Russian—my ancient fameelee came from Russia—and we live near ze Italian frontière so I speak Italian all-so. I 'ave never spoke English so much as I do since ze last sevehral ... weeks."

To Angelica's surprise, Mrs. Johnson seemed more congenial, as if she understood what it was like being a foreigner having to socialize in an unfamiliar language. "So where have you traveled?" she asked.