C H A P T E R 11

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11

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11

Ana settled herself purposefully across from the priest and his guest. She wanted to show him that she wasn't scared, she wouldn't be threatened by him. That was her first mistake. Father Hughes smirked at her. How clueless she was.

"That is Mr Shelby's seat Ana." Tatiana said, glancing from her place beside her.

"I'm sure he won't mind, there is another." She said, glancing from the table to the chair opposite her.

"Miss, Petrovna." The MP greeted her, though more in question that politeness.

"Oh, don't worry, I know all about this transaction of sorts." She said, her voice edging on hysterical as she picked at the napkin on her lap and glancing at all of the faces across the room. "Me being here will have no effect at all."

"I know how to keep my mouth shut when it is needed. Don't I?" She raised a brow, her eyes flitting to father Hughes, who was biting at the inside of his lip.

"I don't think the commentary is needed, Anastasiya." Her aunt snapped, and she felt a kick to her ankle, someone's- her sister's- hard heel digging into her skin.

"Oh, but it is." Ana insisted, before standing to her feet, beckoning the violinist from the corner of the room to join them in playing at the table. "Well, what are we waiting for!"

They sat impatiently as they waited for Tommy Shelby and listened to the musician play the violin. Ana was distracted, both by the curious stare of Patrick Jarvis and the steely glare of the priest. It seemed they both wanted her out of the room for their talk, and she had a feeling their wish would be granted by her uncle, who too seemed off-put by her words. But her Aunt was looking at her, yet without the usual cool, emotionless stare, she could almost look intrigued. Ana brushed it off, somewhat disturbed by the difference in attention from the stiff woman.

"Your highness, Mr Thomas Shelby."

One of the servants introduced him, his fast and abrupt pace into the room startling them all. The men stood up around the table, their heads bowing quietly as her uncle stood to introduce them, his arm awkwardly outstretched.

"Good evening, Mr Shelby. I believe you've met everyone apart from my wife." He said, motioning over to the woman. "Grand duchess Izabella Petrovna."

"Please, take a seat."

"I apologise, but I left my brother outside with my car. It seems your staff were a bit aggravated by that." He didn't sound apologetic at all.

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