Page 80 of Corrupting his Duchess

He was quiet for a moment, then asked, “Do you regret coming?”

“No,” she said at once, surprising even herself with the steadiness of it. “I do not.”

He looked at her then.

“I thought I was good at seeing people,” he said. “And yet it seems I knew nothing at all, until you looked back at me.”

Anna’s breath caught lightly, but she did not look away. Instead, she lifted her chin slightly, the corners of her mouth touched by the faintest curve. Her heart blossomed within her.

“I don’t pretend to be mysterious,” she said. “I’ve only been… careful.”

“And I have been too cautious.”

Their steps slowed beneath the last vine-covered arch.

She turned to face him. The roses behind her swayed gently in the breeze, the scent faint but unmistakable. A single petal detached and fell between them like punctuation. “You are not a careless man, Your Grace. But you have been kind.”

CHAPTER 15

Her words lingered in his heart as they walked. Henry kept his gaze forward, but his thoughts moved in circles, each step retracing her words, the look in her eyes, the way her voice had caught on the edge of truth.

They reached a narrow bend in the path, where the hedges thinned and the pale winter sun stretched like spilled gold through the branches.

Henry slowed.

“I suppose I should be honest with you,” he said after a moment, voice low. “If you’re to think well or poorly of me, it may as well be based on truth.”

Anna tilted her head slightly but said nothing. Her breath misted faintly in the cool morning air.

“I’ve grown accustomed to waiting for people to fail me,” he said quietly. “To betray me. It’s exhausting, always watching for the moment when loyalty gives way to opportunity. Or affection turns false.”

Anna’s gaze softened, but she didn’t interrupt.

“I built walls,” he continued. “Not out of pride, as many think. But necessity. Every kindness I’ve shown has been calculated. Every friendship vetted, weighed. Every compliment... deflected.”

He exhaled sharply, almost laughing at himself. “And yet with you, I keep forgetting to be guarded.”

Anna’s chest tightened. “Why do you think that is?”

He looked at her like he couldn't quite figure her out. “Because you don’t want anything from me.”

Her brow lifted. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because you would’ve asked by now,” he said with a faint smile. “Instead, you give me the truth, even when it’s sharp. And I find I don’t mind the sting.”

He stopped walking. She did, too.

“I’ve told myself for years that caring is a liability,” he went on. “That need is a kind of weakness. And yet…” He paused, brow creasing slightly as though searching for the shape of the admission. “You make me feel…God help me…safe. And I haven’t felt safe in years.”

The words seemed to surprise even him, spoken aloud. He turned, suddenly restless. “Forget I said that. It’s absurd.”

But Anna stepped forward, catching his arm before he could move away.

“I won’t forget,” she said softly. “Because I feel it, too.”

Anna didn’t move. Didn’t breathe, almost.

He ran a hand through his hair, then looked at her again, jaw tight. “You’ve heard the rumors, haven’t you?”