Anastasia

Adelaide

The Whitbys had been invited to dine with the Banks three weeks later, and had accepted, much to Lady Adlington's delight. The Countess, though extremely busy with other social engagements, spent hours deciding on arrangements such as the menu and guest list. Also invited were Lord and Lady Priston, and a few other close friends. Lady Adlington had, after some debate, neglected to invited the Blakes, so as to ensure Mr. Whitby, or, if at all possible, his elder brother, Viscount Terbridge, would have Anastasia's full attention.

Anastasia, in spite of herself, was quite looking forward to the occasion. She had not lied to her mother when she said she liked Mr. Whitby very much, and though she did not know the Viscount more than a quick how do you do, she was determined to like him as much as she could. As for their sister, Anastasia had never heard of her before, but, as with Viscount Terbridge, she was ready to try her best to like her. After dancing and dining with the same people for several weeks, she was looking forward to be introduced to somebody new, even if she did turn out no different to every other young lady Anastasia had been introduced to this Season.

The night evening arrived, and though dinner parties were not nearly so large an affair as balls were, the staff of the Adlington town house were scurrying about frantically.

Completely oblivious to any of the happenings downstairs, Anastasia sat at her vanity table, dressed in one of her new gowns, while her maid went in search of her gloves. Cautiously, she touched her carefully and intricately styled hair. She like having her hair up; she looked less like a child, though she did miss having her brown locks fall down her back. There was something free and careless about having her hair down. Something, she realised, she'd have to leave behind. As for the dresses being longer, they too seemed to increase her sophistication, though at times the length could be rather cumbersome. No more running after mysterious birds that cannot fly now, she told herself, Well, at least not in town. But back in Kent...
Anastasia smiled to herself. Her maid returned with her gloves and she pulled them on quickly, noticing the time.

"You look beautiful m'lady," the housemaid, Catherine, said, admiring her handiwork. "The Whitby boys won't be able to take their eyes off you. I daresay there'll be some rivalry between the two."

Anastasia stayed quiet. It struck her that mere months ago Catherine wouldn't have dared say such a thing, fearing it would provoke an angry outburst. Now, Anastasia supposed, it was only natural she should try to impress the young men around her. It was expected. "That was not my intention," she replied stiffly, though, in truth, it probably was, and it not only annoyed or frustrated her, but hurt her to realise that.

Anastasia took a deep breath. She glanced at herself one last time in the mirror. This could be my last chance. I will try, for Mamma and Papa's sake, if not for mine. Time to move on, she warned herself, forget Robert and Charlotte for the moment. Don't think about James. She bit the inside of her cheek, suddenly all her excitement gone, replaced with sadness and guilt.

"You'd better hurry m'lady, I can hear the motors outside."

Anastasia nodded and forced a smile onto her face. She could do it. She would do it.

***

Anastasia scurried down the stairs just as the first guests entered the house. Mr. Whitby immediately saw and approached her, followed by a lady Anastasia didn't recognise.

 "Mr. Whitby, how lovely to see you again."

He smiled warmly. "Lady Anastasia, I hope you are well. May I present to you my sister, Lady Adelaide Whitby." Mr. Whitby introduced the lady next to him. She was the same height as Anastasia, very elegant in how she held herself. Her blonde curls were arranged stylishly and the dress she wore was of the latest fashion. Very modern. There was an air of self-confidence and intelligence about her.