Page 27 of Duke of Bronze
CHAPTER 27
A nna felt utterly adrift. Lost, even—if she dared admit it.
Colin and Fiona's acquaintance had undeniably deepened. Or perhaps he was simply playing the attentive host, as was his nature. Either way, she could not seem to quell the persistent weight in her chest whenever she saw them together. And, of late, that sight had become all too frequent.
The crisp country air should have refreshed her, yet it only felt stifling, pressing in from all sides. As though she were trapped in a place that had once been familiar but now felt foreign.
When the opportunity arose, she slipped away from the traveling party unnoticed. The carriages had been drawn to a halt, and the group had dispersed through the bustling village market, pausing at stalls and admiring wares. Anna drifted through the winding paths, past vendors and villagers, but everything blurred into the periphery. The vivid hues of ripe fruit, the fragrant pull of fresh-baked bread, the cheerful hum of conversation—all of it faded beneath the weight of her thoughts.
Then came the laughter.
A sudden burst of mirth broke through her reverie, bright and unrestrained. A little boy and girl ran past her, their carefree giggles filling the air as they chased one another with wild abandon. Anna halted mid-step, drawn to the scene despite herself. Such unguarded joy—so simple, so unburdened.
"Would you like a sample, dear?"
The gentle voice pulled her attention to a nearby stall, where a middle-aged woman stood behind an inviting display of jams, fruit preserves, and marmalade. A small spoon extended toward her, a warm smile accompanying the offering.
Something in the woman's kindness softened the tightness in Anna's chest. She accepted the sample, pressing the spoon to her lips.
The taste was nothing short of divine—a perfect balance of citrus and sugar, bright and full of warmth. Her brows lifted in pleasant surprise.
"My, this is indeed the most magnificent marmalade I have ever tasted," she declared, unable to suppress her delight.
And for the first time that day, the lead in her chest eased just a little.
"You are too kind," the woman said with a demure smile, her hands deftly arranging the jars before her.
"I do mean it. It is delightfully rich," Anna assured her, still savoring the lingering taste of citrus and sugar. "Might I ask the price?"
Before the woman could answer, a bright, youthful voice interrupted. "Goodness, if it is not Lady Anna!"
Anna turned toward the speaker, a young woman with eager eyes and a face alight with recognition. Yet, for all her enthusiasm, Anna found herself at a loss. There was no familiarity in the girl's features, no recollection stirring in her memory.
"Oh, you must not remember me," the girl said, reading Anna's expression with an easy laugh. "But I do recall you well."
Anna tilted her head in polite curiosity. "Do you?"
"Yes, my lady," the girl continued, her words quick with excitement. "My cousin is a nurse at the foundling hospital in Town. I stayed with her last year, assisting where I could, and I saw you there often. Every week, without fail."
Comprehension dawned. Anna's lips parted in mild surprise. "I see. Forgive me, I truly did not recall."
"There is nothing to forgive," the girl assured her, waving away the apology with an easy grace. "I never expected you to remember me, my lady. You were always so busy tending to the little ones."
At that, the stall owner's head lifted sharply. "A nurse at the foundling hospital, you say?" she repeated, her gaze shifting between her niece and Anna.
"Yes, Aunt," the girl confirmed, smiling. "Ellen is the nurse."
The woman's eyes softened with unmistakable warmth as she regarded Anna anew. "Then you are the lady my daughter has spoken of so often."
Anna hesitated, momentarily caught off guard by the woman's reverence. "I only did what I could," she said quietly.
"What you could ," the woman repeated, shaking her head with a knowing smile. "My daughter has told me much of your kindness, my lady. Of how you gave not only donations but your time—how you sat with the children, held them, read to them. That is not the work of a woman who merely does what she could . That is the work of a good heart."
Anna felt heat rise to her cheeks, unsettled by such open praise. "You flatter me undeservedly."
"Nonsense." The woman plucked a jar of marmalade from her stall and pressed it into Anna's hands. "I shall not take a penny from you."
Anna blinked, startled. "But I could not possibly?—"
"It is a gift," the woman insisted, gently pushing Anna's hands back when she made to return the jar. "Even before we met, my Marjorie has sung your praises. If this is but a small token of our gratitude, then you must allow me the pleasure of giving it."
Anna hesitated, torn between gratitude and the discomfort of such generosity. But the woman's expression was firm, her kindness resolute.
At last, Anna inclined her head. "Then I thank you, most sincerely."
"It is rare to come across such kindness from one of your station," the woman remarked, shaking her head as if still marveling at the notion. "In fact, besides the Duke of Copperton, I have never met a noble possessed of such compassion."
Anna blinked. "The Duke?" She could hear the surprise in her own voice.
The woman nodded. "Indeed, my lady. His Grace is the benefactor of our foundling home here in the village, as well as several others in the neighboring parishes. His patronage has provided shelter, medicine, and education. Why, I daresay we could not have managed so well these past years without him."
Anna stared at her, scarcely able to reconcile what she was hearing with the man she thought she knew.
"He has long been a friend to those in need," the woman continued, eyes bright with admiration. "And his charity began long before he came into his title. Even as a young man, he gave from his own purse, ensuring that no child was turned away, that no mother was left without aid. A fine gentleman, His Grace. A rare one."
A slow warmth spread through Anna's chest, soft and deep. She had known Colin to be generous, but this—this was something else entirely.
It was one thing to donate funds when one bore the fortune of a dukedom. It was quite another to give freely, without obligation, without expectation, without the title to command it.
Defying his father's principles, no doubt.
Anna had always thought she knew Colin Caldwell. But now, she saw there was so much more to him than she had ever imagined.
By the time she took her leave of the stall owner and her niece, her spirits had lifted considerably. Clutching her jar of marmalade, she made her way back toward the carriages, humming a quiet tune to herself as she wove through the market stalls. She was already imagining breakfast the following morning, the marmalade spread generously over warm bread.
The thought was pleasant. As was the lingering warmth in her chest.
Just as she passed a fruit cart, however, a firm hand closed suddenly around her wrist.
Anna gasped, her body tensing in alarm. Her fingers tightened around the jar of marmalade, and she very nearly lost her grip on it altogether.
She turned sharply—only to find herself face to face with Colin.
Her pulse, already unsteady from the fright, stuttered in a wholly different manner.
"Pray, do you delight in startling one so dreadfully?" she demanded, pressing her marmalade tighter against her chest as if it might steady the racing of her heart.
" You gave me a fright," Colin accused, sounding exasperated. "Wandering off in such a manner—I spent an age looking for you. I had begun to think something might have happened."
A sharp breath hitched in Anna's throat at the unexpected weight behind his words. There was genuine concern laced within them, unmistakable in his furrowed brow and the way his shoulders seemed only now to loosen. The realization settled deep within her, both surprising and… oddly pleasing.
Could it be that he truly cared?
And why—heavens, why —did she suddenly want him to care?
Before she could formulate a response, his gaze swept downward to the jar she still clutched to her chest, as though it were a prized treasure.
"You wandered off to purchase jam ?" he asked, raising a dark brow.
"Marmalade," Anna corrected primly, lifting her chin as she held up her acquisition with no small measure of pride. "The finest I have ever tasted. And," she added, her eyes brightening, "it was a gift."
Colin regarded her for a moment before shaking his head with a low chuckle. "You are a never-ending stream of surprises, are you not?"
Anna merely smiled. "The stall owner and her niece, Marjorie, were most generous."
"How magnanimous of them to bestow gifts upon strays," he mused, his lips curving in amusement.
"Strays?" Anna echoed, brow arching.
"Only strays wander off and cause their companions unnecessary distress," he accused once more, though there was no real reproach in his voice—only something warmer, lighter.
Anna rolled her eyes, though an undeniable thrill coursed through her at his words. He had been worried. For her.
"Must be made from the most exquisite fruit to be so delightful," she murmured, scrutinizing her marmalade with newfound appreciation.
Colin regarded her for a long moment, his expression unreadable, before he suddenly asked, "Speaking of enchantment… would you care to see something truly magical?"
Anna tilted her head, considering him with playful suspicion. "If, by enchanting, you mean my own reflection in a looking glass, then by all means."
For a fleeting second, perplexity crossed his features, but it was quickly replaced with understanding. And then, to her immense satisfaction, he threw back his head and laughed.
"And I am accused of vanity?" he chortled.
Anna gave a delicate shrug. "You do possess an overinflated sense of self-importance, yes. But I do not recall ever calling you a narcissist."
"A strawberry is still a berry, Anna," he countered, his mouth twitching at the corners.
"If you insist," she returned slyly, lifting a brow.
Without another word, he reached for her free hand, his grip warm as he began to lead her away from the market square.
Anna's heart gave the smallest, most foolish leap at the contact, but she tamped it down quickly, forcing curiosity to take precedence over anything else. "Where are we going?" she pressed.
Colin merely smiled. "Patience, Anna."
She gave an exaggerated sigh, but allowed herself to be led nonetheless, winding through a narrow, less-traveled path that cut through the outskirts of the village. And then, just as they rounded a bend, the scene unfolded before her.
A sprawling orchard stretched out beyond a quaint little cottage, its boughs laden with fruit in varying hues. Apple trees stood proudly among orange groves, while limes hung in clusters, their bright green skins gleaming beneath the afternoon sun. There was no one in sight, save for the occasional bird flitting between branches.
Anna slowed, her gaze sweeping over the idyllic landscape. "Enchanting indeed," she murmured, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected beauty.
Colin smirked, clearly pleased by her reaction. "You see? I am not entirely without taste."
Her eyes narrowed playfully. " That remains to be seen."
He let out a low chuckle as they ventured deeper into the orchard, their footsteps softened by the grass beneath them. But as she took in the serene stillness of the place, a sudden thought struck her.
"Is no one home?" she asked, glancing toward the cottage in the distance. "Are we not trespassing?"
She should have felt a measure of caution, but instead, a thrill of reckless excitement coursed through her veins. This was not something she was accustomed to—stealing moments away, wandering through a private orchard with a duke who looked entirely too pleased with himself.
Colin dismissed her concerns with an impish chuckle. "Worry not. The owner is an old friend. He would not begrudge me a visit."
She arched a brow. "And yet, I suspect there is more to this tale."
He pressed a hand to his chest, feigning affront. "You wound me with your distrust."
"I simply know you too well," she quipped. "Now, confess."
He sighed, as though greatly put upon, but the twinkle in his eye gave him away. "Very well. If you must know, I may have… borrowed fruit from this very orchard once or twice in my youth."
Anna gasped, clutching her marmalade as though scandalized. "You mean to say that I am in the company of a thief ?"
Colin chuckled, plucking a ripe apple from a low-hanging branch and offering it to her with an air of mock solemnity. "Or would you prefer an orange, so that you might further your marmalade-making ambitions?"
Anna accepted the apple, her fingers curling around its smooth surface just as the distant creak of a cottage door reached their ears. Footsteps followed.
She and Colin exchanged a wide-eyed glance of alarm.