“Indeed. Had it been the social season, I would have arranged for it to be by the lake, but I do not think that would be wise in such weather.”
“No, we would catch a chill,” she giggled. “What else would we do if it were the Summer months?”
“We would take more walks. I enjoy promenades, especially in Hyde Park, though I do not suppose that I have ever asked you if you like the outdoors?”
“I do, actually.”
She turned to tell him more, but she was caught off guard by the fact that he wore only a shirt and his trousers. He was marvelous to look upon, and she enjoyed doing so so much that it was beginning to make her lose her capacity to speak.
And he knew she was looking.
“I would not have expected you to enjoy such a thing,” he noted, “given how I assumed your father raised you.”
“That is where you are mistaken,” she explained, sipping the brandy he had given her and clearing her throat. “You see, my father did not raise me.”
His eyes widened slightly, then narrowed, as if in disbelief.
“What?” she asked. “Surely you did not see any of me in my father?”
“Not at all, but if he were not… were you with your mother?”
She shook her head, preparing herself for what she was about to say. What they had was fragile, and she did not want to ruin it by telling him something that frightened him away again.
“My mother passed away when I was a very young girl. I was my father’s responsibility, and we both know that he wanted nothing less than to be charged with me. He handed me away as soon as he could, and the easiest way to do that was to give me to my grandmother when the time came for me to learn how to be a lady.”
He listened intently, rather than merely hearing what she said. It was encouraging, and precisely what Anna needed to hear. Her friends knew of her past, and they had been supportive, but she had never expected anyone else to be, especially not the man who had abandoned her.
“Then why was he the man to decide that you would marry?” he asked.
“Because my grandmother died. As I was unmarried, it meant that I was his ward once again, and he wanted to get rid of me again. It was fortunate that he found a duke willing to take me as his bride, and all that he had to do was keep me from knowing the truth until the last possible moment.”
She laughed sadly, remembering what had happened. Even so, when she looked at her husband, it was all almost forgotten. All that she saw was the only man who had made her feel desired and wanted, and it meant everything to her after a lifetime of being handed off unceremoniously.
“I suppose your grandmother would be pleased that you did not stay with him.”
“I would think as much. I know that she wanted me to marry, but I was not ready for it. Not only that, but when I became a wife, I wanted it to be my own choice. I wanted the final say in who I married, and though I did not have that in the end, I have to admit that… well, I am happy.”
“Are you? I would not have thought that, given that I left you for so long. Granted, I am pleased that you feel that way, for I do too. I never expected to admire the poor girl who became my wife even half as much as I do you.”
“Which is why you left, yes?”
It was the conclusion that she had drawn for her own sake. If he were not off with another woman, he had to have had another reason. The best that she could think of was that he had been too afraid of the prospect of marriage to stay and had left in haste.
But that was not how he was looking at her. She could see that he was hiding something, and for the first time, he truly appeared to want to tell her the truth. Her eyes held his, and she waited.
“I ought to tell you the truth,” he confessed. “I know that you deserved it long ago, but I did not know how to tell you. It sounds ridiculous now, and utterly unbelievable.”
“I will believe you,” she assured him, leaning closer and abandoning her meal. “You have given me enough reason to trust you.”
He was quiet for a moment, and then began again.
“There was a scandal in my family,” he explained. “It was a few years ago, now, but it almost ruined us. It led to my family being isolated in the north, and after some health complications, it had to remain that way.”
“So you were visiting family.”
“Indeed. I know that it was wrong of me not to tell you, but it had to be done. At least, I thought it was for the best. I did not want you to worry that the scandal could come back for us, or that you were somehow implicated through our marriage.”
“Or that I did not believe you. I suppose a new bride hearing all of that may not have been convinced that it was the truth.”
