Page 10 of Duke of Bronze

CHAPTER 10

" M y lady, the Copperton carriage has arrived for you." Anna's fingers stilled at the clasp of her pearl-drop earring as her lady's maid entered the room.

She nodded, though the simple motion did little to steady the fluttering in her stomach. She turned back to the mirror, willing her hands to remain steady as she fastened the second earring. Despite her best efforts, the slight tremor in her fingers betrayed her.

How utterly absurd.

It's only an afternoon outing. An outing for which she had no notion of the destination or purpose.

She drew in a slow breath. This is precisely what you wished for , she reminded herself. She had asked to be surprised. Why, then, did it feel as though she were walking into the unknown armed with nothing but sheer bravado?

Anna swallowed, resisting the urge to press a hand to her stomach. Yes, it was merely the uncertainty of it all that made her feel so…unsettled. That was all.

And yet.

She thought of the way Colin had looked at her the night before. There was a quiet longing in his eyes, a longing for companionship she had often seen in her father after her mother passed. But Colin? She could not fathom how a man like him could wear such a look. Perhaps she had been mistaken. Perhaps his gaze had held something else entirely.

A foolish part of her had wanted to know what troubled him, to understand?—

No. She shook off the thought as one would shake off an errant raindrop. Whatever burden he bore, it was not hers to carry.

A gentle nudge at her feet made her look down. Plato, her massive Newfoundland, gazed up at her with his soulful dark eyes, tail thumping against the floor.

She bent and smoothed a hand over his thick fur. "Wish me luck, Plato," she murmured. "I daresay I shall need it." The dog tilted his head, as though he quite understood the gravity of the occasion.

A soft snore from the chaise drew her gaze to Titan, her tiny pug, who remained blissfully unaware of her dilemma. She considered, just for a moment, bringing them along. Their presence might help her unease.

No. That would be ridiculous.

She straightened, giving Plato one last affectionate scratch behind the ears before turning back to her lady's maid, Miss Watson, who was busy arranging the final touches of her attire.

"You look lovely, my lady," Miss Watson said, stepping back with a satisfied nod. "And there is no cause for nerves. I daresay you shall have a most delightful afternoon with His Grace."

Anna's spine stiffened. So, I betrayed myself, after all.

"I am not nervous, Miss Watson," she replied swiftly, lifting her chin. "Not in the slightest.” She added the last part for good measure, but it was too late. Miss Watson merely pressed her lips together in that knowing way of hers—saying nothing, yet managing to convey her complete disbelief.

Anna exhaled, casting one last glance at herself in the mirror. Whatever awaited her this afternoon, she would face it with composure.

Or at the very least, she would pretend to.

"My lady, you shall wear a hole through the floor if you persist," Miss Watson teased gently.

Anna stilled her tapping foot at once and folded her hands neatly in her lap. "I am merely eager to arrive."

Miss Watson's smile was knowing. "Of course."

The carriage rolled to a halt, and before Anna could collect herself, the door swung open, revealing Colin, waiting at the foot of the steps. The moment she met his gaze, her stomach gave a most inconvenient flutter.

"Good afternoon, Lady Anna," he said smoothly, extending his hand.

She hesitated for half a second before placing her gloved hand in his. The warmth of his fingers seeped through the fine fabric, and before she could think better of it, he lifted her hand and pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to her knuckles.

Her heart stumbled .

He released her, his eyes gleaming in that infuriatingly self-assured way of his. "I trust your journey was pleasant?"

"Uneventful," she replied, lifting her chin in defiance of her traitorous pulse.

As she took in their surroundings, recognition dawned. "Regent's Park?" She turned to him in surprise. "I must admit, I did not expect this choice."

Colin tucked his hands behind his back, clearly pleased with himself. "I thought you might appreciate somewhere serene. A place untouched by society's chaos and prying eyes."

She narrowed her gaze. "You seem quite satisfied with your… thoughtfulness."

He inclined his head, utterly unabashed. "Shall I take that as acknowledgment of my fine planning?"

Anna scoffed. "Are you truly so starved for compliments, Your Grace? You may continue fishing for them, but you shall receive none from me."

"Not yet," he countered with the delight of a schoolboy, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm and leading her forward. Miss Watson followed at a discreet distance.

They walked only a short way before Anna came to an abrupt stop, her eyes widening at the sight before her.

Beneath the sprawling limbs of an ancient oak tree lay the most lavish picnic she had ever encountered. A fine blanket spread over the grass, laden with silver trays and fine china, a selection of delicacies artfully arranged. Nearby, a pond shimmered under the midday sun, ducks gliding across its surface. But what caught her attention most of all were the candles. Dozens of them, placed about as though this were some sort of romantic tableau.

Anna folded her arms. "A candlelit picnic," she remarked.

Colin, wholly unruffled, gestured grandly. "Impressed yet?"

She sank onto the blanket with a sigh. "I fail to see the purpose of candles in broad daylight."

His grin was nothing short of insufferable. "Ah, but if they were absent, you might have accused me of a lack of effort."

Anna merely arched a brow, unimpressed. Romance had never been something she cared for, and she was certainly not about to swoon over an excessive display of wax and wick.

Colin's brows lifted ever so slightly, a flicker of surprise flashing across his features before he recovered. "I would not expect you to appreciate the artistry involved in such gestures."

Anna tilted her head, a slow smile curving her lips. "If I did not know better, Your Grace, I might think you sounded… disappointed."

His mouth twitched in what she suspected was reluctant amusement. "I merely find that I am not receiving my due return in admiration and gratitude."

Anna stiffened. Gratitude? Was she to offer effusive thanks now? As though she had requested this extravagant display?

"You purchased my attendance, not my compliance, Your Grace," she pointed out, arching a brow.

Colin's gaze darkened with something akin to mischief. "No, but I daresay I could obtain that without coin."

Anna inhaled sharply, her spine straightening. His confidence—so assured, so unshakable—was infuriating. And worse, entirely too appealing.

Before she could form a suitable retort, he plucked a piece of cheese and an olive, setting them atop a slice of sourdough bread. With deliberate ease, he held it out to her. "Try this."

She eyed the offering with suspicion. "Are you attempting to barter for my compliance with food now?"

He leaned in slightly, his smile slow and knowing. "A gentleman must exhaust every possible advantage."

Anna scoffed. "Then I wish the gentleman the very best of luck. For he shall certainly need it."

Colin's grin widened. "Luck? My dear Lady Anna, I have no need for luck. My charm is quite sufficient to carry me anywhere."

She let out a disbelieving laugh. "You are insufferable."

"And yet, you are smiling." He looked altogether too pleased with himself.

Anna rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "It is luck, nothing more."

"If that is what you must tell yourself," he replied with a low chuckle.

And much to her dismay, she found herself laughing again. Somehow, despite herself, Anna found she had fallen into an easy rhythm of conversation with this insufferable, maddeningly self-assured man. The air between them was lighter now, their banter weaving effortlessly through the afternoon.

She had not realized how much time had passed until the sun began its slow descent beyond the horizon, bathing the landscape in warm hues of amber and rose. A gentle breeze stirred, rustling the wildflowers and sending a delicate shiver skimming across her skin.

"Oh, perhaps you do require your shawl after all, my lady," Miss Watson observed, her voice pulling Anna from her momentary reverie.

Anna turned to find her lady's maid watching her with a perceptive gaze. "I shall fetch it from the carriage," Miss Watson added as she rose gracefully, brushing a few stray petals from her skirts.

"Thank you, Miss Watson," Anna murmured, watching as her maid made her way toward the waiting vehicle.

The moment she was out of earshot, Colin leaned in ever so slightly, seeming to feign indignation. "Are you this well-mannered with everyone but me?"

Anna turned to him with an arched brow, the amusement in her eyes unmistakable. "Do I detect jealousy, Your Grace?"

He scoffed, though there was a gleam of mischief in his gaze. "Hardly. I merely marvel at your valiant attempt to resist my charms."

"Valiant attempt?" Anna let out a most unladylike snort. "That implies effort on my part."

"Precisely," he said, reaching for a plump strawberry and biting into it before popping the remainder into his mouth, chewing with evident satisfaction. "Resisting me must be terribly exhausting for you."

Anna narrowed her eyes, though the corner of her mouth twitched in reluctant amusement. "And I suppose these famed charms of yours have proven most effective within your rakish world, have they not, Your Grace?"

The words had barely left her lips before she realized she had spoken out of turn.

There was a pause—brief but unmistakable.

His expression faltered—just for a moment, so brief she might have imagined it. But then, as quickly as it had appeared, the crack in his ever-confident demeanor vanished beneath an effortless smirk.

"You always have an answer to everything, do you not, Anna?" His voice was warm, edged with amusement. "Ever full of challenges. And I rather like that about you."

She opened her mouth to respond, but he was not finished. His voice dipped, turning softer, more deliberate. "But I should think you are sensible enough to know when to temper things. Would you not agree, Anna, dear?"

The endearment sent a ripple through her, but before she could gather herself, before she could fire off the sharp retort perched on her tongue, he shocked her.

His fingers brushed against her cheek.

Anna's breath hitched. The touch was featherlight, teasing, as he traced an idle path along her jawline. Heat spread beneath her skin, as if awakening to the press of his fingertips. She should have pulled away, should have demanded he cease this impropriety—and yet she remained motionless, captive to the moment, to the way his gaze darkened as it held hers.

He leaned in, slowly, deliberately, and the air between them grew charged. Anna should have stopped him. She should have said something, anything.

Instead, she found herself wondering if he was going to kiss her. And worse— if she wanted him to .

The realization struck her with the force of a tidal wave, stealing the very breath from her lungs. And that shattered the spell. She pulled away, rising swiftly to her feet.

Her heart pounded a frantic rhythm against her ribs. But it was not anger toward him that made her tremble—it was fury at herself. For allowing him to unravel her so easily. For losing control. For wanting him.

Still flustered, she straightened, forcing her voice into something resembling composure. "If you think I shall fall prey to your shallow charms and become another conquest in your long, tiresome list, then you are gravely mistaken, Your Grace."

Her words were sharp, but her breathlessness betrayed her.

Colin barely had time to respond before the sound of approaching footsteps broke the tension. Miss Watson reappeared, shawl in hand, entirely unaware of the tempest she had just interrupted.

"We are leaving, Miss Watson," Anna said.

"Oh," the lady's maid let out before following Anna, who'd already turned on her heels and was walking away.