Anthony chuckled; it was an anxious sound. Bridget dared to hope that he had been as affected by the poem as she was. And what a reckless thought that was! Bridget’s mouth grew dry, as she considered the possibility that Anthony might have also thought of her while Lord Elmonde read his poem.
“I wish to apologize,” Anthony said.
“For what?”
“For kissing you,” he said, lowering his voice. “I ought not to have done that, and I am sorry. I fear that I took leave of my senses.”
“Oh.”
It was the worst thing he could have said. Bridget forced a smile and twisted her hands in her dress. He was apologizing for taking liberties with her, for kissing her. She ought to accept his apology without hesitation, but instead, she felt the icy sting of something like rejection.
“I will still help you,” Anthony said, his voice very quiet. “We can still pretend that I am courting you, and I will maintain better control in the future. You have my word as a gentleman, Bridget.”
He had still agreed to aid her, though. She had not ruined everything by allowing herself to return his kiss.
“I am as much to blame as you,” she said. “I promise that I shall likewise exhibit more control in the future. I fear that I also took leave of my senses.”
“Then, we are in agreement,” Anthony said. “I am glad, for I have the utmost respect for you. I would never forgive myself if I had upset you.”
“You could never upset me,” Bridget replied.
Even as she spoke, she was not entirely sure that was true. When Bridget thought about the kiss, she felt as though shewere soaring. How could she regret it? How could he say that he regretted something that had felt so wonderful?
“You seemed rather upset when my driver ruined your gown,” Anthony teased.
“You made amends,” Bridget replied. “The modiste is making two lovely gowns for me, and she expects them to be ready by the end of the Season. I may even be able to wear them in some of the last balls of the Season.”
“One in blossom and another in fawn,” Anthony said. “Lady Rose described them for me. I hope that you also requested some embellishments at my expense?”
Bridget felt that she was surely flushing like mad. Anthony wished to know what the gowns looked like. It seemed like something that lovers would discuss with one another. “I did,” she said, “even though I felt a little guilty about it.”
“Why?”
“I did not wish to take advantage of your generosity.”
He laughed. “Generosity? I ruined your gowns, and I told you to purchase better ones at my expense.”
“Indeed. My mother and Lady Victoria said something similar. I requested embroidery on the fawn gown and pearls on the blossom.”
Anthony nodded. “I look forward to seeing you wear them.”
Bridget shivered, conflicting emotions warring inside her. Anthony felt that their kiss was something which required an apology. Anthony had expressed a desire to see her clad in the gowns that he had paid for. His comment was entirely innocuous, but Bridget found herself wishing desperately that it was more.
“Of course, you have looked lovely all Season.” Anthony paused. “I mean that sincerely and not just because I am… courting you.”
He winked, and Bridget felt as if her heart skipped a beat. “That is kind of you.”
“Did you enjoy the poem?” Anthony asked.
“I found it to be quite excellent,” Bridget said. “The subject is not something I often read about.”
“No?” Anthony asked. “I had thought you would enjoy tales of star-crossed lovers.”
“I do,” Bridget replied. “I meant the…the other parts.”
Anthony arched an eyebrow. Had he not just implied that their kiss was a mistake, Bridget might have thought that his eyes shined with desire. Certainly, there was something intense in his gaze. She felt as though he could see all the way down to her core, as if he could sense the effect that the poem had on her.
“The conjugal felicities?” he asked. Bridget stifled a laugh and covered her mouth with her hands. Anthony grinned mischievously. “Am I correct, my lady?”
