Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Lord and Lady Whitfield hosted a grand recital every year, where they invited all the ladies to come and perform before the entire ton. Lady Rose had never before received an invitation, and being asked to perform was an indication that the ton was beginning to accept her as one of them. As Lady Rose's guardian, Anthony accompanied her and Lady Victoria to the lavish townhouse. He would have preferred to remain at Hamilton House, for he had barely slept the night before. His thoughts had refused to calm, so consumed with Bridget and Anastasia.

A devoted guardian would have attended the recital for Lady Rose's sake, but to his chagrin, Anthony had agreed to attend the recital in the hopes of seeing Bridget. Lady Rose had only been a convenient excuse for his attendance.

Anthony searched the crowd for Bridget. While he had never heard Bridget play, he knew of her skill with the pianoforte. Surely, she would have received an invitation. He wanted to see her again, as he always did, but this time, he specifically wished to gaze at her eyes. After finishing the portrait of Anastasia, Anthony had decided that Bridget would be his next subject. He had produced a partially finished painting but found himself unable to remember properly how the light settled in her hair.

"I hope I perform well," Lady Rose said, as they entered the ballroom.

It had been transformed into a musical hall and was filled with seats and instruments. The pianoforte had been placed in a place of honor before the rows of seats, and Anthony's pulse quickened when he thought of Bridget playing the instrument, her slender fingers dancing over the keys.

"I am sure you will do excellently," Lady Victoria said, squeezing her daughter's shoulders. "I know you have practiced extensively for this occasion. You will be the talk of the ton."

"Bridget is also going to perform," Lady Rose said.

"Is she?" Anthony asked.

His heart soared. Bridget would be present, then, even if he had not seen her yet.

"She always receives an invitation to Lord and Lady Whitfield's recital," Lady Rose explained.

"Lady Rose!" The spindly Lady Whitfield waved from across the ballroom. "Join us!"

Bridget! A lump rose in Anthony's throat at the sight of her, clad in pale green, standing beside Lady Whitfield. He let his eyes sweep over her, noticing things he never had before—like how her brown hair had just the faintest tint of red to it and how she rolled back her shoulders when she stood.

Anthony settled into a chair, Lady Victoria taking her place beside him. He would finally hear Bridget's playing. The thought filled him with a tremor of excitement.

"I am glad that you were able to accompany Rose and me," Lady Victoria said.

"Indeed," Anthony replied.

"I suspect, of course, that you had your own reasons for attending," she said, smiling slyly.

"Yes," he conceded.

He needed to feign a proper courtship. Of course, he ought to be present for an event such as this. At least, that was what Anthony told himself. It was impossible to deny that his feelings for Bridget were only those of a man feigning to be in love. While his love for Anastasia still burned brightly, he could no longer deny how much he longed to be beside Bridget. Her company filled him with such feelings of joy and passion that he had not felt in such a very long time.

"When do you intend to propose?" Lady Victoria asked.

That was an excellent question.

"I am unsure," he replied, "once Bridget is ready to accept."

"I cannot imagine that she would refuse, Your Grace," Lady Victoria said.

"You know what my courtship is," Anthony said quietly.

"So you say," Lady Victoria replied, "but given how much you dote upon her and how you look at her, I strongly suspect your desire for Lady Bridget is far greater than you wish to admit."

Anthony glanced at her, unnerved by Lady Victoria in a way that he had never been before. "You are very observant."

"No," she replied, "but I know what love is. I know how it looks and what it feels like."

Anthony took a deep breath. "We shall see, my lady."

"So we shall."

Across the room, Bridget seated herself before the pianoforte. While the conversations continued around him, Anthony fell silent. He watched, utterly enraptured. Bridget smiled at the audience. He felt her eyes light on him, and his heart hammered against his ribcage. For Anthony, it was as if Bridget were playing just for him.

As the first notes rose waveringly in the air, his breath quickened. She played with such elegance and grace that the entire world seemed to melt away until it was only the two of them. Did she feel that same jolt of passion when their eyes met across the room?

"She plays very nicely," Lady Victoria commented.

Anthony nodded, but he barely heard the comment. Bridget's fingers moved deftly over the keys, never wavering as she filled the air with the most splendid music he had ever heard. What would it be like to hear the sweet sounds of the pianoforte in Hamilton House, to emerge from his study after long days of checking ledgers and answering correspondence, and hearing those joyous sounds flutter in the air?

"She is quite good."

The familiar voice came from behind him, too close for comfort. Anthony felt as if ice had crept into his veins.

"Lady Hastings," he said.

"Your Grace."

Anthony glanced over his shoulder, noting that Lady Hastings seemed accompanied by a lady's companion, rather than her husband. "Where is Lord Hastings on this lovely day?"

"He has taken ill," Lady Hastings replied. "He graciously allowed me to attend the recital without him."

"I see."

Anthony subtly turned away from her, his eyes fixing on Bridget. She did not appear to notice his interaction with Lady Hastings. The young woman was utterly engrossed in her music. Anthony's heart swelled with pride for how talented she was. He had never seen a lady as accomplished as she was, and he longed to sit closer to her. He imagined himself leaning over Bridget's shoulder, murmuring sweet words into the side of her neck as she played.

"She is pretty," Lady Hastings continued.

"So she is," Anthony replied.

"As are most young ladies of the ton," Lady Victoria said. "Once upon a time, we were equally fair of face."

"Lady Victoria," Lady Hastings said. "How good to see you among us once again."

Lady Victoria smiled thinly. "Indeed."

"I spoke with Lady Bridget at tea yesterday," Lady Hastings said. "I thought it was a very productive conversation."

Anthony clenched his jaw. He could imagine well enough what Lady Hastings might have said. His eyes darted to Lady Victoria, who was listening to their conversation. As much as Anthony wanted to confront Lady Hastings and ask what she had told Bridget, he could not do so publicly. Their conversation would have to wait.

"I am sure that you did," he replied.

Doubtlessly, Lady Hastings had cast herself as the heroine of whatever tale she had spun. Anthony could scarcely believe that he had once loved this woman. He had been such a fool!

"Does she know how fickle your heart is?" Lady Hastings asked.

"She knows of my love for Lady Anastasia," Anthony said, his tone warning. "Furthermore, I do not believe that this is an appropriate conversation for us to have during a music recital. We should be listening to the music."

Lady Hastings looked affronted, which was a little deserved. People often talked and spread gossip during occasions such as these. "Apologies, Your Grace. I did not mean to upset you," she said.

He deliberately turned away from her, determined to spend the rest of the recital listening to Bridget's playing. Why would he wish to gossip with Lady Hastings when he could listen to the incomparable Bridget?

"She does play well," Lady Hastings said mildly.

"She plays far better than well," Lady Victoria said. "It is quite apparent that Lady Bridget is a very accomplished lady."

Indeed, she was. Anthony dug his nails into the palms of his hands and fixed his eyes on Bridget. As he listened, the tension slowly left his muscles. If he just kept gazing at her, he could still pretend it was only the two of them in the world. He could pretend that Lady Hastings did not sit behind him with the thinly veiled threat of having spoken to Bridget ringing in his ears.

As the last notes of the song lingered in the air, Bridget gazed at him with such intensity that Anthony's breath caught in his throat. A polite applause rose from the crowd as Bridget stood and dropped into a perfect curtsey. She left the pianoforte and went to sit beside Lady Whitfield.

"I must congratulate Bridget," Anthony said.

He left his seat and crossed the room to where Bridget was, just as Lady Rose went to the pianoforte. Bridget met his gaze, as he approached. He saw her intake a sharp breath, her breasts rising from within the bodice of her gown. Anthony lowered himself into Lady Rose's chair.

"You were brilliant," he said without preamble.

He searched her face for any sign of hesitation or disgust at his presence, but he found none. Surely, whatever Lady Hastings had told Bridget could not be so terrible. Anthony longed to ask, but he could not with so many of the ton surrounding them.

"Thank you," Bridget said. "I am glad you enjoyed listening to my music. I take great pride in it."

"It showed with every note."

She ducked her head and gazed at him from beneath her eyelashes. "I am glad you thought so."

Anthony smiled. Lady Rose began to play, releasing a flurry of notes into the air. "I think I am going to get some air," Anthony said deliberately. "Your playing was so splendid that it left me breathless."

Bridget laughed. "That was a terrible jest, Anthony."

He winked. "I try. I hope you understand that my feelings are nonetheless sincere."

"I do."

His heart was in his throat. This was brazen, but being so near her awakened all the desires deep within him. He just wanted to talk to her. He just wanted to ask her about what Lady Hastings might have said, so he could tell Bridget the truth.

"Well, I shall see you later," Anthony said, "after I enjoy some air. The rose gardens are beautiful."

"They are," Bridget said.

He gave her a final, soft smile. Her eyes were heavy with desire, and Anthony knew she understood the silent question. He would leave it to her whether or not she cared to join him.

Anthony took a shuddering breath as he left the room. He sensed that Bridget's eyes remained on him, even though Lady Rose was playing beautifully at the pianoforte.

He left the ballroom and set a brisk pace toward the rose gardens. How long would he wait for Bridget? He could not decide, but even the smallest amount of time would feel as though it were an eternity while he waited for Bridget to arrive.