Page 25 of Corrupting his Duchess

And not the way Matthew watched her, not with calculation, or polite appraisal, or smug anticipation.

Henry looked at her like she was a question he hadn’t yet found the answer to. And that terrified her because part of her wanted to give him one.

She turned back to Matthew too quickly. He didn’t seem to notice. He was still talking, still gesturing lightly with one hand but her heart was beating faster now, and not from anything Matthew had said.

“Lady Anna?” he prompted, and she realized she’d missed something.

“I…yes,” she said, forcing another smile. “Of course.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, but he let it go.

She kept her face neutral. Pleasant. Exactly what a young woman ought to be. But her thoughts were already unraveling.

Thank you for inviting me to listen to your plans,” she said abruptly “But I really should return. Sophia will think I’ve wandered off and joined a convent.”

Before he could protest, she dipped her head with practiced grace and turned back toward the others, her steps light but swift. She didn’t look over her shoulder, not at him.

When Anna returned to the group, the warm hush of the afternoon picnic stretched over the lawn like a silk sheet. Bees drowsed in the blooms. Gentle laughter rippled from a small group lounging near the orchard, where blankets were spread in varying shades of pastel. The servants had long since retreated to a discreet distance, and someone had produced a parasol for Gretchen, who sat composed and elegant beside a plate of strawberries.

Anna was half-listening to Natalie read aloud from The Castle of Otranto, her fingers idly twisting a blade of grass when Matthew sat opposite her, beside Sophia.

“Then, then I see it! A gigantic helmet,” Natalie read, and Julia groaned.

“Please,” she said, “no more haunted furniture. If a ghost doesn’t throw a ball or kiss a maid, I lose interest.”

“Julia,” Sophia scolded lightly, “you said the same about The Monk. You’re impossible.”

“I’m honest.”

“More like deranged,” muttered Gretchen, but she didn’t sound unkind. She passed Julia a sugared violet.

Henry’s voice floated in from nearby, a low, polite murmur, clearly aimed at Miss Clarissa Lonsdale, who had latched onto him with determined interest. Julia glanced over, just in time to see him dip his head in a courteous bow and extract himself from her orbit with the sort of polished ease that suggested long practice despite the glare she aimed at him.

“I daresay, if the duke glowers at the sun any harder, it may apologize. Still, he’s terribly good at brooding and being mysteriously late to breakfast."

Anna rolled her eyes, but too late.

He had rejoined the group, having successfully deflected Miss Lonsdale and was standing just behind Anna, looking down at the picnic spread like it was a chessboard and he wasn’t sure he wanted to play.

“Lady Anna,” Henry said smoothly, offering a slight bow. “Ladies.”

“Duke of Yeats,” Anna replied, proud that her voice didn’t catch.

He nodded at her, then looked to the others. “If we’re discussing hauntings,” Henry resumed, looking at the book in Natalie’s hands, “you’ll have to forgive me, I’m not sure gothic ghosts hold a candle to the stares some of you ladies deliver when displeased.”

Anna tilted her head without looking up. “You’ve never struck me as someone so easily unsettled, Your Grace.”

“No,” he said, stepping forward and sat with measured ease, “but I do admire self-preservation.”

“Oh?” She finally turned her face to him, a slight smile playing at her lips. “Is that what you were doing earlier, preserving yourself? When you fled Miss Lonsdale

He raised a brow. “That wasn’t flight. That was a tactical retreat.”

Anna tilted her head slightly, considering his words. “And yet, here you are, standing in the middle of a group of lively, animated individuals, probably desperate to break free of the tedium of it all.”

Henry’s smile widened. “And what if I were? You wouldn’t be so keen to see me escape, would you?”

Anna’s laughter was light, though it had an edge. “Oh, I wouldn’t say ‘keen’, Your Grace. Just not particularly disappointed.”