The young lady smiled. As she turned her head to look at him, a gasp tore from her lips. “Bridget!” she exclaimed.
Anthony halted abruptly and followed Rose’s gaze. Bridget wore a white gown with a light blue sash. His eyes traced over her slender form, partially hidden by her gown. He ached to seize her skirts and place his hands on her thighs once more. Anthony remembered how they had looked—so pale, soft, and slender. She smiled at him, and his breath caught in his throat. It took a few seconds for Anthony to realize that Bridget was accompanied by her sister Lady Anna and Mr. Russell.
Rose lifted her skirts lightly and hurried over the path. She embraced her friend and grasped her hands. Anthony joined them at a much slower pace. As he approached, he took the time to appreciate Bridget’s form. Since he had returned to painting, he noticed more about her. Bridget’s shoulders were smooth and round, narrowing to slender arms and delicate fingers.
“Lady Anna!” Rose exclaimed. “Mr. Russell! What a pleasant surprise to see all of you out!”
Anthony caught Bridget’s eye. There was something wrong. He had not noticed it from afar, but now that he was nearer to Bridget, he could see that her smile was edged. Forced, even.
“Bridget,” he greeted.
“Anthony.”
Bridget’s brow furrowed. Something worried her. Was it what he had done in the garden? Bridget hadn’t seemed upset by his actions that day, but perhaps she had thought more about what happened. Maybe in the time since, she had decided that she did regret letting him touch her.
“Did you receive an invitation to Lady Emily’s ball?” Rose asked.
“We did,” Lady Anna said.
“I am told that it will be especially grand,” Rose said.
“How are you?” Anthony asked, lowering his voice.
“I am fine,” Bridget said. She sounded as though she did not entirely believe what she said.
Anthony furrowed his brow. “Shall we join your promenade?”
“Please,” Lady Anna said.
As they walked together, Lady Anna and Mr. Russell led the way. Rose linked her arm with Bridget’s, and Anthony found himself awkwardly following with the lady’s maid trailing a few paces behind him.
He wanted to speak to Bridget, but he did not yet have the opportunity. Eventually, Rose would—hopefully—release Bridget’s arm, and he would be able to walk alongside her and slowly create some distance between themselves and the rest of their group.
“I feel like I must say something,” Lady Anna said. “I have been told that someone asked my father for permission to propose.”
“So I did,” Mr. Russell said.
Rose exclaimed in excitement. “That is wonderful! How romantic!”
“Congratulations,” Anthony said.
Mr. Russell chuckled. “I intend on proposing during Lady Emily’s ball,” he said, “so we might be formally engaged. Then we shall have the wedding whenever you wish.”
“As soon as we feasibly can,” Lady Anna said. “I cannot wait to be your wife.”
There was a brief pause. Lady Anna looked at her sister, and for just an instant, Lady Anna’s warm smile seemed to fade. Something was awry.
“Your Grace!” Rose exclaimed. “Oh! There is Lady Emily now! We must speak to her!”
Anthony glanced at Bridget, wanting to remain with her and ask about what upset her so. Rose had already darted away,heedless of Anthony’s dismay. The lady’s maid hurried after her mistress. Anthony sighed and gave Bridget an apologetic look.
“Until next time,” he said, trying to put all his affection and care for Bridget into those three words.
“Until then.”
Anthony frowned and continued along the path, leaving Bridget with her sister and Mr. Russell. Several feet away, Rose stood beside Lady Emily, who gestured animatedly as she spoke.
“I am delighted that you will be attending,” Lady Emily said.
