Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Bridget thought only of His Grace and that delicious fantasy that she had conjured up the night before. Her body ached, and she felt a strange energy jolt through her. It was as if she were standing on the coast minutes before a raging storm was to begin, and she could feel all the lightning and water gathering in the air. Her every sense seemed heightened to remind her of him.

When she saw her mother wear her favorite emerald necklace, she thought of the Duke of Hamilton's eyes. The sight of any painting brought for memories of that moment at the art show. As her father emerged from his bedchamber, accompanied by a cloud of sharp citrus cologne, a deep longing for the Duke of Hamilton's Bay Rum rose inside her. His Grace seemed to be everywhere, even when he was not physically beside her.

At present, Bridget was tucked away inside a carriage with her parents and Anna. The conversation had turned to suitors, but Bridget had scarcely followed a word of it, consumed as she was with thoughts of His Grace. At last, they arrived at Hamilton House. Bridget clasped her hands tightly in her lap.

"Ah, here we are," her mother said.

They descended from the carriage and crossed the familiar entryway. Rose and her mother Lady Victoria greeted them at once.

"I am so glad you could all join us today," Rose said, her eyes bright with mischief. "Bridget, a certain gentleman has already been asking after your whereabouts."

"Oh?" Bridget asked. It took her a moment to realize who Rose must mean.

"Indeed," Rose said. "His Grace seems to be quite taken with you."

"His Grace?" Bridget's father asked.

Duke and duchess exchanged a look, and Bridget noted the delighted surprise that painted her mother's face.

"Well, I should not keep the Duke of Hamilton waiting for me," she said.

She made a show of searching the crowd for him, not truly expecting to see him so quickly. But there he was—just a few feet away with a cluster of gentlemen. There suddenly did not seem to be enough air in the world to fill Bridget's lungs. The sunlight caught in His Grace's brown-blond hair, lighting every strand, and the green of the gardens made his fine blue jacket seem all the more lovely. He cut a trim, handsome figure, as always, and Bridget ached to approach him and have him sweep her into his arms.

He turned his head toward her and their eyes met, even across the expanse of space. Bridget's fantasy the night before had remembered the sharpness of his eyes quite well. Her pulse jumped.

"There he is," she said, trying not to sound too breathless.

Rose squeezed Bridget's arm. "You should go to him. We can talk later, and look—he is speaking to Mr. Russell. He asked after you, Anna."

"He came to call yesterday," said the Duchess of Norfolk.

"He did?"

It seemed that the duchess had neglected to mention that, for Bridget's father looked at them all with obvious surprise.

"It was a lovely visit," Anna said, linking her arm with Bridget's own. "Shall we, then?"

Bridget grinned. "We shall."

They went up the path together, drawing the attention of the gentlemen soon enough. His Grace smiled. "Bridget," he said.

Bridget? The intimate address sent a bolt of lightning through her, so powerful that she felt as if her knees might collapse beneath her. Of course he would address her like that, though. They were meant to be courting, and he intended to show that they were comfortable with one another.

"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 that painting. 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 na?ve 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."

Anthony smiled. "I would never betray your trust. We are courting, after all."

Bridget shook her head. "I need you to sincerely promise."

His face became suddenly serious. "I will tell no one," he said. "What is it?"

"I fear that my father needs for me to marry the Marquess of Thornton to cover his debts, and I fear that if I do not, the burden will fall to Anna. I do not wish for that to happen to my dear sister. She deserves to be wed to a man who loves her."

"Lady Anna would not want you to sacrifice your happiness for her own," Anthony said.

"I know, but nor could I ask her to do that for me. Mr. Russell has no title, but he is a merchant's son," Bridget said. "I imagine he has some wealth of his own, and my father may find that appealing.

Especially given that neither she nor Anna would have dowries. Most lords of the ton would be horrified at the thought of wedding a woman without a dowry, but perhaps a common man would be different. If she agreed to marry the Marquess of Thornton, she might be able to persuade him to provide a dowry for Anna.

"I hope your parents find Mr. Russell to be an acceptable match," Anthony said, "if that is who your sister is happy with."

"Yes."

They lapsed into silence, and Bridget cast a furtive sideways glance at him. "Would you allow Rose to marry a commoner?"

"If she wanted." Anthony paused. "In truth, my lady, I have not given it much thought. I assume Lady Rose will present suitors to me once she has developed some genuine feelings for them, and then I shall let her choose who she wishes to wed, unless her pick is someone truly disreputable."

"I cannot imagine Rose falling in love with a man who is disreputable."

"She may not know that he is," Anthony replied. "Often, men know secrets about one another that ladies are not privy to. Only a very foolish man would allow a lady to know all his vices."

"Oh? If I am courting you, I think you should tell me your vices," Bridget said. "Otherwise, I may discover them later in the marriage and be unpleasantly surprised."

"And what would you do?" Anthony asked. "You would already be wed to me."

Bridget considered that for a long time. After some deliberation, she shrugged a little helplessly. "I suppose you make a fair point. I am not certain what I would do in such a situation."

"There would be little you could do."

She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Let us suppose that I fled. I might leave and begin a new life in America."

Anthony chuckled. "You say that as though it would be the easiest thing in the world."

"I know," Bridget said, "but surely, your vices cannot be too terrible. You are quite kind, Your Grace—Anthony."

"I will accept the compliment," he replied, "but every man has vices, Bridget. Some worse than others, but vices all the same."

"Noted."

They reached the table in the garden, and Lady Victoria waved to them. "Your Grace! We have places for you and Lady Bridget right here!"

Bridget felt heat rush to her face, suddenly aware of the many lords and ladies that had turned their heads in her direction. This was what she had asked for, was it not? A pretend courtship to a handsome duke did not come without a few gawkers.

Bridget smiled and let Anthony guide her to the seats. She would be sharing a meal with him, right at his side. Their fa?ade would be witnessed by an entire crowd of people, who would hum and gossip about her.

Well, it was time for her to be an actress. "This is lovely, Lady Victoria. Thank you."