Anastasia

The London Season

"Courage calls to courage everywhere, and its voice cannot be denied." - Millicent Fawcett

9 Months Later

London

The Whitby's ballroom was hot and stuffy. That didn't stop the young ladies from flirting and dancing to their heart's content. The very handsome, not to mention extremely wealthy, Whitby brothers were just back from a year spent in Italy and the infamous match-making mammas were eager for their daughters to become better acquainted with them. Also of the party were some familiar faces - Lord and Lady Ronden, back in London for the Season, and three of their children; the two eldest Blake boys, Gregory and Frederick, and their sister, Clarissa, recently married to the Honourable Mr. Daniel Shrewsbury, heir to an enormous fortune which was in all likelihood the main reason Clarissa decided to accept the fourth proposal of marriage made to her. Anastasia was glad she had accepted him, otherwise, she feared, poor Mr. Shrewsbury would have joined the long list of discussion topics about which Clarissa seemed so delighted to speak, and at great length.

Anastasia herself was present too, accompanied by her watchful parents who were ever-eager for her to mix with the eligible young men in the room. She, however, having danced for at least an hour, now sat in a quiet corner. The past couple of months had been the most thrilling she had ever experienced. From the dresses and trains and feathers to the dashing you men who were not at all the silly fools she had imagined, at least not all of them, were all so very new and exciting. But now, things were beginning to slow again. The Season would eventually come to an end and, Anastasia realised, so would the time she had left to make a decision about her family's fortune.  Such a thought left the poor girl in quite a dampened mood, and once one is in such a state, one begins to think only of the less bright thoughts.

The months after Robert, Charlotte and James had left had been some of the most miserable in Anastasia's life. At first, she was happy. She could cope, she thought. But gradually, with only her governess for company most days and with letters from Robert taking so long to arrive, she began to fall into a deep and gloomy mist of despair. After a dull Christmas spent at Lord Adlington's great aunt's estate in Scotland, the worst imaginable happened, and Mlle. Dubois left the household for another family in the North of the country to be closer to her sister who had once again fallen ill. Lord and Lady Adlington didn't replace her, for Anastasia was by this time eighteen and no longer in need of a governess. And so it happened that Lady Anastasia Banks was quite alone in a big old house in Kent.

However, with the preparations for her first Season and then her actual coming-out, Anastasia had forgotten much of her previous melancholy in all the excitement. It was only now, as the initial excitement was dying down, that she remembered.

"Anastasia!" A high-pitched voice called out, tearing her from her thoughts.

"Clarissa," Anastasia said, seeing the lady materialise seemingly out of nowhere.

"Tell me, I was just talking to my good friend Lady Alice, and she mentioned your cousin, Viscount Fawley, had gone abroad! I had completely forgotten and hastened to you immediately - how does he fare?"

"Very well, I believe," Anastasia murmured, hiding her pain. In truth, she had not heard from Robert in over two months. The last time she received a letter from him, he had written almost an entire four pages on his business alone, only remembering in the last few sentences to ask after her health and tell her about the community in Manaus. Anastasia realised he had really come to love life in the Amazon and feared he would never return. "He seems to be enjoying the lifestyle."

"How wonderful. Ah, talking about him reminds me of our picnic at Molloy Park last summer. Do you remember?"

"How could I forget? Poor Sammy almost drowned."

Clarissa laughed. It was a high-pitched tinkling sound. "Ah yes, but your brave cousin saved him. You, too, got into difficulty in the water as far as I can recall - Only that friend of Viscount Fawley's saved you - what was his name? Charlotte spoke of him to me in her last letter. Cuthbert? No - "

"Campbell," Anastasia supplied, feeling uncomfortable.

"Ah yes, he was very good-looking, wasn't he?"

"I - " Anastasia wondered how to respond. She was saved, however, by the appearance of one of the Whitby brothers, the younger one, asking for her hand in the next dance. Though tired, she accepted almost immediately, eager to get away from Clarissa.

"Are you quite well, Lady Anastasia?" The young gentleman asked as they danced across the room. "Only I couldn't help but notice you looked rather pale."

Anastasia managed a weak smile. "Thank you, Mr. Whitby, but I am quite well. You saved me from a difficult conversation."

"I saved you from the clutches of Mrs. Shrewsbury, did I?" he said with a grin.

She blushed and averted her gaze. Mr. Whitby continued, "Come now, don't be afraid to speak freely with me. I can assure you we have all been the victim of her tedious conversation."

Anastasia giggled involuntarily.

"You live near the Blakes, do you not?"

"Yes, Avondale is not far from Ronden."

"Then you are well acquainted with Frederick Blake? He and I were at school together." Mr. Whitby smiled, as though feeling nostalgic.

"I am. Frederick is a very pleasant fellow." Unlike his elder brother, Anastasia couldn't help but add in her head.

They spent the rest of the set making polite conversation. As the congregation broke apart, Mr. Whitby enquired, "How are you enjoying your first Season?"

Anastasia sighed. "I am enjoying it very much thus far. Though - " she broke off, checking herself.

"Yes?" His tone was encouraging.

"Well, it is quite... tiring. There are so many new acquaintances and engagements, sometimes I feel quite lost... and, well, alone." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted saying them. Why tell such things to a man she hardly knew?

Mr. Whitby, however, looked thoughtful. "I wonder - My sister is due to return to London soon. I should like to introduce her to you. I am sure you get on well with each other."

"I should be delighted to meet her."

"Excellent! Until next we see each other." Mr. Whitby bowed and moved away into the crowd.

Anastasia frowned, but quickly forced a smile back onto her face as she saw her mother approaching. No doubt to congratulate her for securing a dance with Mr Whitby. She sighed and braced herself. Yet, it was a reminder of the decision she would soon have to make - and Mr. Whitby would be a perfect candidate, if he would accept her. Probably not, she thought miserably. She was poor now, a fact she could not forget.