Indeed, I did not need the investment. Not like I needed Anna.
Anna was air to my lungs. Being with her was like walking along the beach just as the sun crested the earth. Captivating, enlivening, and so unbelievably beautiful.
Together, if I could convince her, we’d find a comfortable balance. I’d sacrifice whatever she asked. If she’d take me.
For the first time in my life, I held the world in my hands.
I had nothing, yet everything, all at once.
Courting Anna would be a risk. The odds were, at best, sixty percent in my favor. But I wanted this life. I wanted her.
And when I wanted something, I’d do almost anything to get it.
ChapterTwenty-Three
Anna
“Good morning, Miss Lane.”
Finally.
“Out here, Mariah,” I called over my shoulder. I’d been waiting for her since my eyes opened. Mariah’s presence meant I could ready myself for Graham’s attention. And I wanted Graham’s attention.
I’d awoken late, but the house still slept, so I’d dragged a cushioned chair—patterned with violet flowers and green vines—and a little writing table from my room onto the balcony. After freshening up, I’d spent my morning hours facing the sea, writing in my notebook and waiting as the crisp morning air dried each page.
Mariah brought out a tea tray with fruit, a slice of ham, cheese, and bread, which, after moving my notebook and ink jar, she laid upon my writing table. Then she scurried around my room as I chose a slice of cheese.
This morning felt different. New. For the first time in a long time, I sat and simply watched rays of sunshine beaming through leaves on the trees. A warm, cozy spot, and several deep breaths rejuvenated me, and I felt so content to simply be.
Despite my father abandoning me, despite my empty home, despite all the answers I lacked, for the first time in a very long time, I had not a worry nor care in the world.
“The brown dress today?” Mariah called from half inside the armoire.
“Something with color,” I shot over my shoulder. I curled my legs together in my chair, then lifted my teacup to warm my hands. It would do no good to pine for Graham, but out of dozens of suitors, I hadn’t felt this eager for anyone.
Not that Graham counted as a suitor. He wasn’tcourtingme. But the admiration in his eyes last evening, the way his cheeks creased when he smiled so fully at our exchanges ... it wasdifferent.
Wewere different.
But was his attention genuine? Could I trust Graham, despite his clear interest in investing with Papa?
I wouldn’t let his flattery sway my opinion on the Brighton investment. He could grin and flirt and play his best hand, and I might relish in his attempts, but I would hold fast to my own opinions.
I’d agreed to this arrangement, and so I had a decision to make. Tomorrow, my father would return. If I agreed that Brighton was worth investing in, would Graham shift all his attention to Papa and abandon me?
Just us, he’d said.
“Gold embroidered dress over the light-green petticoat?”
I turned around. Mariah held up a thin muslin that practically shimmered over the colored petticoat. “Perfect.”
After I sated my appetite, Mariah helped me dress, fixed my hair in curls atop my head, and dabbed the lightest touch of color to my lips and cheeks.
I felt confident, but also a flicker of nerves and a restlessness I could not vanquish. Would he like this dress? My perfume?
Rising above it all, there flamed a hope for something more. Something real and lasting.
“He’s waiting in the drawing room for you, Miss Lane,” Mariah said as she closed the bedroom door behind us.
