nineteen
Escaping from his own guests wasn’t part of tonight’s plan, but Anthony had had enough of chatter, questions, curious looks, and smiles.
He left the ballroom without caring if someone noticed his disappearance. The dim lights of the quiet spot at the end of the corridor were an immediate cure-all for his anxiety. He stared out of the window at the garden. The moonlight turned the green leaves into shining silver, and the deep shadows gave him a sense of peace. He removed his mask and exhaled.
He’d agreed to give this damned ball only because Isabella had asked him. One light touch from her, and his body had come back to life. Her touch was like a charm overpowering him. And yet, he hadn’t had the courage to invite her to dance with him.
He hadn’t danced with anyone. Sod the rules.
When footsteps approached, he pinched the bridge of his nose, wishing for a moment of calm.
“Anthony.” Isabella’s voice changed his previous wish.
“What are you doing here?” It came out harsher than he wanted, but she didn’t recoil at his tone.
“I needed the ladies’ room.” She was glowing, her cheeks flushed and eyes shining. Her beauty held him captive for a moment.
She stepped closer with deliberate steps as if afraid of him. “I’m glad you decided to give this ball. I know being among all those people is difficult for you.” She chuckled. “It’s a bit difficult for me as well. You’re very brave.”
“Brave? I hid myself.”
“But you’re here now. That’s all that matters.”
Her simplicity was disarming.
“You made me change my mind. I’m sorry. I behaved beastly with you.” He cleared his throat. “I meant to write back and see you, but it was so difficult that I let time pass.”
She stared at him without wincing at his horrible face.
He gestured at the scar. “It took a long time for the flesh to settle. After the physician removed the bandages, the scar was ten times worse than it is now. It’s hard to believe, isn’t it? I couldn’t let you see that monstrosity, and the fever came and went without rhyme or reason.”
She touched his arm. “You don’t have to justify yourself.”
“I do. I should have answered your letters, but the more I postponed writing to you, the harder it became. I missed you.” Shame burned the back of his throat. He owed her an explanation. “Will you ever forgive me?”
“Oh, Anthony.” She hugged him, and he held her back, trying not to hold her too tightly. “Of course I forgive you. You have nothing to worry about. Just promise me we’ll see each other again. Please.”
“I promise.”
“I’m here if you need me.”
She stood next to him, watching the moonlit garden in silence, and that was the best exchange he’d had in a long time.
* * *
Anthony removedhis mask when the ball was over.
His ears rang in the quiet of his bedroom after the loud music and chatter of the ballroom.
Grandmama had wholeheartedly disagreed with the idea of a masquerade ball and had shown her disagreement by not wearing a mask. She didn’t think he should hide his scars, but he wasn’t ready to show his face to everyone. Isabella seeing his face had already been enough.
Hearing her laugh and watching her dance had been a ray of sunlight and a reminder that she brought happiness to his life. He’d ignored her when he should have thanked her for bringing him happiness once again.
He hadn’t found the words to express himself further when she’d hugged him. The turmoil inside him had been too great.
Wilson, his valet, helped him out of his suit and don his nightshirt and dressing gown. Wilson didn’t talk, but his gaze often drifted to Anthony’s scar. He guessed he ought to get used to the glances and the silence.
He sat on the bed, touching his face. A phantom pain lingered when he pressed his fingers to the mauled flesh, but nothing else. If anything, the fear of pain was bigger.
