Putting on the Ritz

Chapter Twenty-Two - Anna

Anna looked up at the dashing fella beside her as he took a drag from his rapidly dwindling cigarette. The cherry glowed red as he inhaled and then he flicked it causing the ashen end to drop in between his oxford shoes. She studied his face with his aristocratic features and could not recall him as a boy even if their families had been acquainted, no matter how hard she had tried. The name Caldwell did bring a slight stirring to her memory, but she could not recollect anything more than the name itself, and certainly nothing of the Casanova beside her.

The man idly walking in step next to her was no doubt a charmer, albeit a very rich one, Anna knew. She could tell by the way his lips curled up into a cunning smile and the manner in which his eyes danced with a hint of mischief below the surface. She had been hesitant at first to engage in conversation, but as she had been standing awkwardly at the edge of the activity and not knowing a single soul in attendance, she had decided that having a few words with a cake-eater may at least give the impression that she belonged at the party.

It was apparent to Anna how much she stuck out among the crowd, a few of which would have been her counterparts not even a decade ago. But while her Aunt did see to her education, she had not had a true finishing governess, and the few years since her Aunt's death she had fallen much out of the practice of high societal manners. Still, she tried to engage in as polite conversation as she could muster and walk with a confident posture. The other majority of the party guests were obviously not high society counterparts, as she knew that high hats were not nearly as showy as these women with their glittering beaded dresses and heels that were wholly illogical to wear at a garden party. Even among these extravagant persons Anna did not seem to belong, with her lack of beads, feathers, or a cigarette in her mouth. And so, until Lawrence Caldwell had joined her, she had kept to the outskirts of the party, making glances toward the host who was on the arm of a petite blonde who had gold digger written all over her gap toothed smile.

"So, are you here with anyone?" The sly gentleman next to her asked. And then after seeing Anna's expression he added, "I only noticed you were standing alone, but surely such a beauty as yourself was not here unaccompanied."

"My only acquaintance in attendance is Lucian," Anna admitted glancing toward the man who now sat with the blonde sprawled across his lap. She still felt a bit strange using his first name, as if a lack of familiarity would save her from the surely dangerous man, but if she were to keep up the rouse that she were a distant relative, surely she would address him by his first name.

"I did not know that your family was acquainted with the Slates," her companion went on, acknowledging the lie that Lucian had told with such ease a few days prior which stated Anna to be a distant relative of Lucian Slate. She had learnt well from her cousin blubbering to debt collectors and goons alike, just how to turn a conversation and answer questions without actually providing any impertinent details. In effect, she knew how to lie without actually lying.

"Are not all of the families of our class distantly related in one manner or other?" Anna replied. For everyone knew how inbred the lineage of high society was; her own grandfather had even married a second cousin.

Lawrence gave a chuckle. "I was merely wondering how a girl of your class would be related to someone like Mr. Slate, whose money, I dare say, is not entirely inherited." Lawrence glanced sideways at her and for a moment she feared that he may know the terms in which she had come to stay at Slate Manor.

Anna knew fully of the way in which Lucian made his money, having been brought to his estate in payment for such a wry business investment. So in a sense, their families were tied, but Anna would be mortified to divulge that to the handsome man beside her.