Henry studied her for a moment, his gaze flicking to her bare feet. “You shouldn’t dip your feet in the lake,” he said, voice low. “If someone saw you… it could start talk. Or worse, you’ll catch your death.”
Anna shrugged, her eyes on the water. “I used to do this as a child. It felt like a luxury then.”
Henry shifted closer, the scent of her lavender perfume mingling with the fresh air. “You mentioned before, you managed things yourself. That couldn’t have been easy.”
Anna's lips lifted faintly, though the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “It wasn’t. But someone had to do it.”
She let her gaze drift across the lake, voice quieter now. “When Father left, there was no one else. I kept the books. I made the calls. I kept the fire going. And when he died, I thought, naively, I suppose, that it would get easier.”
Henry was silent for a moment. “And instead, you got Isaac.”
She let out a soft breath. “And all his plans for how I might be useful.”
He looked at her, truly looked. “You're more than useful, Lady Anna.”
Her eyes moistened, “I used to watch other girls play in the garden. I was learning to calculate grain yields. No one noticed the house didn’t fall apart, that was me.”
Henry’s eyes softened. “You had to grow up quickly.”
She shrugged, voice low. “I didn’t have a choice. When he died, we thought maybe things would settle. But then Isaac came into the picture. Suddenly, I am my family’s future.”
Henry frowned. “Is that why you tolerate my cousin?”
A bitter smile flickered. “He’s respectable. Predictable. And Isaac approves of him. Apparently, that’s all that matters.”
Henry felt a surge of protectiveness swell inside him. “You don’t have to endure it alone.”
Anna met his gaze, the hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “I’m starting to believe that.”
Something in her voice, unsteady but honest, made him hold her gaze a little longer.
The wind stirred across the lake, gentle and cool, tugging at the loose strands of her hair. She didn’t speak again, and neither did he.
Still, they remained there, side by side, as the silence between them settled into something quieter, no longer heavy.
The silence stretched between them, not awkward but thick. It thrummed beneath the quiet like a taut wire, charged with the pull of two people who were aware of how close they sat. Anna’s hand inched close and his hand twitched. He was painfully aware of her, he could feel the heat of her beside him. Every shift of her body, every breath she took pulled his focus. She glanced at him once and quickly looked away. He cleared his mind, still, it buzzed under his skin, an impulse, a growing awareness he was trying, and failing, to suppress.
It wasn’t until Julia’s laughter rang across to where they were that the moment gently unraveled.
The next morning, the morning sun filtered through the tall windows of Henry's study, casting soft, golden light across the dark wood paneling and rows of meticulously ordered books. Henry’s study was quiet and cool, the morning light spilling across tall shelves lined with books and ledgers. At the center stood a broad mahogany desk, its green leather inlay worn smooth by use. A silver inkstand sat neatly beside a stack of correspondence, every paper aligned with precise intent.
The high-backed chair behind it bore the marks of long hours, creased leather, darkened at the arms. There was nothing idle in the room. No clutter, no softness. Just order, and the weight ofdecisions. A gentle breeze stirred the heavy drapes, and the scent of parchment and leather lingered in the stillness.
Henry had just settled into the high-backed chair behind his desk, a letter from his steward in hand, when a knock came at the door.
A footman entered with a crisp bow. “Lord Stenton to see you, Your Grace.”
Henry’s mouth twitched. Of course.
“Show him in,” he said, setting the letter aside with a quiet sigh.
Isaac entered with a polished smile, offering a shallow bow, just enough to be courteous, not quite enough to be respectful.
“Your Grace,” he said smoothly, as though their last conversation had ended on friendly terms.
Henry inclined his head, remaining seated. “Back so soon?”
Isaac let out a short laugh. “You did say you’d think it over. I assumed a night was enough time for a man of action.”
