“Anthony,” she said.
Bridget hoped her voice did not shake too terribly, but it was difficult to feign nonchalance when excitement stirred in her very core. She already knew saying his name would become another part of her nighttime wonderings.
“I am delighted that you could join us,” His Grace, or rather Anthony, said. “I have not seen you since Lady Emily’s art show, and as I am sure you know, that absence is far too long for a man to be deprived of your presence.”
Bridget clasped her hands behind her back and gave him what she hoped was a coy smile. “Are you certain that it is too long for a man and not simply too long for you?”
“I imagine both are true,” he said. “It is too long for me, and any man who has even the smallest sense of taste will agree.”
“You are very kind, Your Grace.”
“Is it kindness to speak an unquestionable truth?” Anthony asked, offering his arm. “Shall we promenade? Perhaps Mr. Russell would care to join us.”
Mr. Russell cleared his throat. “I would be delighted. Lady Anna, would you care to accompany me?”
Bridget accepted Anthony’s arm, her fingertips tingling as they alighted on his elbow. It was not nearly as intimate as the contact she had imagined in the darkness of her bedchamber, but it was real. She felt the warmth of him and the subtle strength of his muscles hidden beneath the well-tailored jacket. Mr. Russell and Anna linked arms, and together, they began a slow promenade around the garden.
“Shall we put some distance between ourselves and them?” Anthony murmured. “We want to look convincing, after all. A couple who are courting would surely want as much privacy as they might feasibly get.”
“I agree.”
Bridget quickened her pace. She and Anthony managed to gain a distance of a few feet from Anna and Mr. Russell. The air behind them rang with Anna’s delighted laughter. It seemed as though everything was going perfectly.
“You surprised me when you called me Bridget,” she said, tilting her head towards him.
“I apologize,” he said. “It was a sudden thought that I had. If I had a lover, I would likely not refer to her by a formal title. I would call her by her name.”
“A lover?” Bridget’s heartbeat quickened.
“A lady who I was courting,” Anthony amended. “I did not mean to imply anything more.”
Bridget nodded and feigned a light laugh. It had been foolish of her to even note the specific phrase he used. Obviously, Anthony had meant no offense. “Of course not. We are only pretending, after all.”
“Yes.”
Why did that thought make her feel just a little melancholy, though? She had known from the beginning that their courtship was only a clever ruse to ward away the advances of the Marquess of Thornton. Bridget’s face warmed. It was thatpainting. When she had looked at it alongside Anthony, that was when everything had changed.
The art show had awakened new desires. She had wanted male companionship before, of course. Bridget was not some naïve innocent who knew nothing about how her body worked and what she wanted, but those thoughts had never had a precise name to match them before.
“Mr. Russell has expressed concerns that the Duke and Duchess of Norfolk may not find him acceptable for Lady Anna,” Anthony said. “What do you think?”
Bridget pressed her lips together in a thin line, considering that. It was a fair assumption, given that Mr. Russell had no title. “I cannot say,” she said, offering a small shrug. “My parents have always said that we may marry whoever we wish, and they have broken that promise. I do not know what they may want now, and I…”
“Yes?”
Bridget sighed, hesitating. “I worry about Anna. She is a rare woman, and the ton is not always kind to rare women.”
“Different, you mean.”
“It sounds unkind to word it like that.”
“But she is,” Anthony said. “She is a lady artist, and she seems rather… forward.”
Bridget smiled. “You should have seen her reaction when my father announced that I was to wed the Marquess of Thornton. I think Anna was nearly as upset as I was. You see, I feel as though I am responsible for her happiness.”
“How so?”
“You must not tell anyone.”
