Anna's stomach sank as she followed Mr. Bates from the dining hall; someone was scheming against him, and she had a feeling that she knew who. He could be dismissed for theft if he was blamed for something like this. Then he really would be gone. It would be disgustingly unfair; the thought of this made her sinking stomach turn sour. And he had been so injured by it, too. Anna hated the look on his face, how disheartened he had been. She had glimpsed again that side he hid so well, that lost little boy, the wounded man who stood up, and it galvanized her. They would not hurt him. Not while she was in this house.

She tried to concentrate while lacing Lady Mary's corset and fastening the dress. She laid out the gloves, which slipped off the edge of the dressing table. She caught them, then replaced them only to have them slide off again. Anna huffed, folding them.

"Anna, please," snapped Lady Mary, as she took her earrings from her jewel box.

"I'm sorry, My Lady," said Anna automatically, dipping her head. Then she felt Lady Mary's hand on her wrist. Anna looked up at her.

Lady Mary's eyes were soft with regret. "I'm sorry, Anna. Please excuse me,"

"There's no need, My Lady,"

"There is," said Lady Mary. "We can't both of us be treated like property tonight. Even if, in the strictest sense, I am. But it's nothing to do with you,"

Anna could not reply to this. She finished and waited while Lady Mary turned in the full length mirror.

"Quite the prize heifer," she said.

"I was in the village yesterday, and heard two old ladies talking," said Anna.

Lady Mary had known Anna long enough to trust that the story would lead to a pertinent point. She turned and gave Anna her attention.

"One of them had been a great beauty in her youth, it seemed. They laughed about it, being old ladies now, but the other said, 'I always wondered what it was like, to be beautiful like you. Was it really not such a great thing, after all?' And the other said, 'Oh, no. It was a great privilege. If I had the choice, I would certainly be beautiful again,'"

Lady Mary's eyes sparkled with light tears, which she blinked away.

"Thank you, Anna," she said.

Anna left the kitchen at a clip, her mind racing. Bald-faced and bold as brass, she thought, I should thank them for it. The cozy exchange between Thomas and O'Brien had been unmistakable. O'Brien had looked like the cat who licked the cream.

Anna had known O'Brien long enough to tune out her conceited ramblings and rude snipes, at least to a point, but she also knew a danger sign. Whenever O'Brien looked that smug, that (for lack of a better term) happy - it meant someone was about to get hurt.

For one moment Anna contemplated what it might take to make a person so insidiously awful, but there was no time to spend on it. They were on the attack. They were attacking him and something had to be done.

They had planned this so that a search would incriminate him. Meanwhile, he was saddened by the event but completely unsuspecting. This was where good people could fall down, could be manipulated and taken advantage of. Anna's anger dug its way down and turned to cold steel; now she was filled with a hard, energetic resolve. She had a plan.

Anna quickly scanned the hallway behind her as she approached Mr. Bates.

"Did you find it?" she whispered.

"Yes. In a drawer," he kept his voice low as well.

Anna took a moment to fume. "Horrid creatures. What lengths to set this up. And sneaking into your room!"

"But not so happy now,"

"Right. Did you want me to take it?"

"No. I've found neutral ground. No one will be implicated,"

Anna blinked. "But-"

"I don't want to hurt anyone,"

"Alright," Anna understood that, although she would have understood retribution just as well. "You'll do that now, then?"

"It's done,"

"Good," Anna let out a breath, relieved. He was out of danger. She couldn't help smiling at him. His eyes were tender on her. He leaned just a bit forward on his cane, his teeth pulling gently on his lower lip. Anna's heart leaped. She still felt his fingertips against hers on the table and the way his touch had moved through her, deliciously electrical.

"I'm very fortunate to have a friend like you," he said.

"Friend?" said Anna, and then she opened her mouth again and they stared at each other.

"Always," he said.

Anna closed her mouth slowly. His eyes were dark in the hallway and glimmered on her.

"Well, what's next?" she asked.

His face fell somber. "Next?" he said, without taking a breath.

"Yes. I think we should request a search at dinner,"

"Oh," now he breathed. Anna realized what had given him pause. He had completely mistaken the implication. Well, what is next, after friendship? Anna thought, as she kept her eyes on him. He leaned toward her with a look of longing, a longing to speak of something deeper. He finally abandoned the struggle.

"Before dinner," he said, "When we all first sit down. And then we can eat in peace after it's all over,"

Anna smiled. "You'll think I'm wicked, but I can't wait to see their faces,"

"Wicked? Never,"

"No?" She knew she was pushing him, but he was on the edge of saying something and she needed him to. Or she needed to. Anna had never lied well, and though she could keep her feelings in check she could not stay with a course that led nowhere. Love was not something you left by the wayside; it was too precious and too rare, and it was standing right in front of her.

A door opened in the hallway behind them. Anna bowed her head and walked past him as he did the same. She did not reach out her hand to brush his.