This new Jackson could be cold—calculating, even—but he would never resort to violence to curb her voice. Sheknew. No matter how harsh... or unfair she could be. It was pure spite that had kept her from mentioning the breakfast, when he’d so clearly forgotten.
And yet he’d taken the cruel ploy with humor and good-natured teasing.
Her gaze tracked through the crowded dining room, finding the duke almost immediately.
With no hat or coat, his ebony curls and wide shoulders were on full display. Much too informal for an engagement meal, but Jackson never stood out in a bad way. It was as if his ducal nature were a wardrobe of fine garments in and of itself, something he always carried with him and of which a person could not be unaware.
Unlike her, who was always standing out in a bad way, like a nail that needed to be hammered into place.
“Stop frowning, for goodness’s sake. People will think you ornery,” said the hammer beside her.
“Let them think what they will,” Anna said. “It’s not as if I know more than a handful of people here, anyway.”
The dowager duchess clicked her tongue. “I should think not. As if a woman of your birth would rub elbows with the crème de la crème of society. These people are here for my son—to keephisname from sully. You should be so lucky as to empty their chamber pots.”
Fury flashed through Anna’s blood, too quickly and hot to hold back. “I wouldn’t be caught serving these puffed-up peacockstea.”
The mingling groups around them went silent.
Anna swallowed slowly, realizing her words had carried in the high-ceilinged room. She didn’t lower her voice. “I come from a trade family, it is true. Good, hardworking people.” She turned and met the eyes of every aghast stranger. “I can only imagine how you all stand so tall when the only thing holding you up are unearned titles through the toil of those same laborers and self-grandiose none of you rightly deserve.”
Every eye in the room was on her now. Her ears and neck burned from the attention, but she squared her shoulders.“Whatever my faults, my opinions, mymistakes, at least I can say they are my own. I will pander and scrape to no one.”
Anna’s gaze swept over the crowd, finding four pairs of eyes that were nothing like the rest. Lady Tisway, Lady Febass, and Lady Holloway wore matching grins... and Jackson—
Anna did look away then, to her self-beratement.
She turned on her heel and moved toward the door, the stunned crowd rushing to part for her.
To avoid sullying their pristine selves with the likes of my commonness.
She burst into the hall and charged blindly for the front door, throwing the thing open in her need to feel the fresh air and sunshine upon her skin.
Those false faces with their obvious disdain didn’t bother her. What did she care for such shallow-minded prejudice?
No, she’d run from something far more damning.
The admiration in Jackson’s piercing gaze.
At the knowing in his eyes.
He sees me.
And never looks away.
The shield around her heart cracked. Anna stood on the front drive and worked hopelessly to patch the fissure before it broke irrevocably, and she was laid bare to him once again.
Jackson found heron the drive, not three feet from the front door.
Back rigid, hands in fists at her side, she was like a coil ready to spring apart.
He gladly stepped into the line of fire.
“That was quite the performance,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. “Though I don’t think there was enough clutching of the chest or song soliloquies.”
She glanced over her shoulder, the look in her eyes tired. “Haveyou seen even one play?”
“Does scandalous theater count?”
