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14
Within moments, Ana was pushing past him, letting not another word be spoken between them. Anastasiya Petrovna was her name. It defined her. It made her who she was. And John Shelby wouldn't be the one to deny her that.
He was pushing toward her, grasping at her wrist in a silent beg, asking her to stay and to listen. Ana shook him off, heading purposefully to the door that led to Tommy's office, knocking on it once and pushing her way through. John followed after her, leaning against the door, staring lazily toward his brother, as if nothing had happened.
"Mr Shelby, I must speak to you," Ana said, her jaw clenched, feeling his presence behind her.
"Seems both of you do," he said, and Ana frowned, glancing toward the edge of the room.
Tatiana sat smugly on the love seat, a cigarette in her hands and feet trailing over her legs. Ana fought the urge to glare as her sister stared back at her, a shrug to her look.
"Tatiana."
"Anastasiya," she said, turning her head to the boy behind her. "And John Shelby."
Tommy was smiling behind his cigarette and a cloud of smoke. Tatiana was casting a knowing glance toward him too. Ana just wanted to scream.
"Perhaps it isn't me who should be apart of the deal. Wrong sister," Tatiana said.
Tommy shook his head dismissively, instead turning to Ana. "What did you need to speak to me about?"
She glanced to her sister. "The priest."
"No need. I know enough."
Ana's head snapped around to look at Tommy. "And what about me?"
He ignored her, instead turning to his brother with a slight smirk on his lips. There was a casualness to his movements that were quite unnerving, as if he knew everything and anything, even the things both Ana and John wanted to hide. Though, she supposed they hadn't done very well in concealing it.
"John, why are you here?"
He stayed silent for a moment, his face pulled into a solemn line. "I phoned the garrison. Billy, says they've gone on strike. Polly, Esmé, Lizzie."
They were startled by the chuckle that escaped the older brother's lips. It was disbelieving, accusing him of joking, but John shook his head, a smile peaking on his lips.
"They what?"
"Gone on fucking strike. Half of Birmingham is out," he said.
"Was Linda with them?" John nodded. "Then it was Linda's idea. She's a smart woman."
"John. There's a Bentley in the drive outside, two now. I want you to go out and put a nail in the tyres. It's good Friday so there'll be no garages open," Tommy said. Tatiana was smirking, as if she wanted it, but Ana couldn't help but scowl. "The ladies will have to spend the night."
"Tommy-" Even John attempted food cut in.
"I want all the boys to go home. Charlie is with Arthur and Linda. And I need you to stay here tonight. I'll need you in the morning," he said.
"You want me to put a nail..." John trailed off. His face had gone red, his cheeks puffy and eyes wide- he almost looked sick.
"Yeah, you heard me."
"Right." John nodded obediently and turned to leave swiftly through the door. "Right."
"And I don't get any say in this?" Ana snapped, her teeth gritted as she glared at the man she had trusted to tell about the priest. Even her sister didn't say anything, instead choosing to try and coax her away from it.
"Ana." But she shook her off, stepping away from her outstretched hand.
"Don't worry, I understand."
Ana disappeared from around the door and advanced across the hallway, her shoes clicking ominously against the marbled floor, like a raven pecking at a window frame. She had come to the realisation that John Shelby was more affected by her than she had thought. She wasn't arrogant- she would allow herself to be, not when she had a family such as hers. But it wasn't wrong to understand that John was as interested in her as she was in him. In fact, she wouldn't have minded, had the world not wanted to see her constantly forced into his pathway.
The sky hadn't yet darkened, she noticed as she stepped through the front doors and onto the long trail of steps leading to the drive way. She found herself dreading the many hours to come, a slow chill erupting you her back as she felt the coolness of the air and the stiffness that beheld the atmosphere, as if a ghost had passed through her. It was bad look, Ana thought, sleeping as a guest in the house of a woman who was recently deceased.
"John Shelby." She spotted him by the car, emerging easily from behind it, his face flat and hands empty by his side. "You're really doing this?"
"Of course I am."
But it was already done.
"So much for not wanting to be used and ordered around like a toy," she said, bringing up the very words that he had said to her.
"Yeah, well fuck off, it's nothing to do with you," John said, his face flushed and eyes glaring.
"You came crying to me about it. Don't say that," Ana said. "You're letting him order you."
She was following him across the drive way, their footsteps almost silent against the buzz of anger they both heard in their ears. John refused to look at her. If she could switch and be so cold all of a sudden, than why couldn't he?
"Well maybe I wanted to do it," he snapped, his eyes trained on the doors in front, only a few more steps away. Yet it seemed too far. He didn't want to hear her reasonings or venomous words- not when they had been so soft only an hour before.
Ana's step faltered. "Why?"
"Because then maybe you'd fucking say something to me."
John pushes open the doors of the house, his knuckles burning white as they slammed into the brick-like wood, almost throwing a maid off her feet. He continued forward, his face hard and stern.
"I don't owe you a single word," Ana said.
He finally snapped, turning around to stare her directly in the face. John was in a state of disbelief. How could she be so different toward him?
"With the way you flipped on me within seconds, I think you fucking do," he said.
Then he parted from her, storming away as quickly as she had done to him.
Sorry about the sloppiness of this chapter, I'll try to edit it soon :(
