Page 24 of Corrupting his Duchess
Sophia stood up to greet one of the house guests, a sharp-faced woman in lavender muslin, and Anna scrambled up after her, murmuring that she’d be back soon. She needed a moment to herself.
The lawn sloped gently toward the hedges, and Anna wandered in their direction, gliding her fingers along the soft petals of the nearest blooms. The scent of crushed roses clung to the air, heavy and sweet, and for a moment she let herself disappear into the quiet rustle of leaves and the warmth of the sun on her skin. It filled her with peace.
The moment from her nearness with Henry still clung to her. The closeness. Henry’s gaze. That breathless pause between them, where everything felt suspended.
She pressed her hand to her middle, willing her heart to still. She couldn’t afford to linger in such foolishness.
“Admiring the flowers, Lady Anna?”
She turned quickly.
Matthew Grayson approached at a leisurely pace, his stride confident, his tone smooth as always. “Or were you hoping to disappear from the group altogether?”
“I was only walking,” she said evenly, folding her hands before her. “It’s quite peaceful here.”
“I don’t blame you,” he replied, stopping beside her. “Whatever was being discussed back there seemed needlessly frivolous. Some people forget how little time there is for real substance.”
She gave a polite smile, but didn’t respond.
Matthew gestured toward a nearby bench tucked beneath a climbing rose arch. “Shall we sit for a moment? I’ve something I wished to discuss with you.”
Reluctantly, Anna moved to sit. It would’ve been rude to refuse. And besides, this was exactly what she should be doing, allowing a respectable, titled man to make his intentions known.
She sat very still, her gloved hands folded tightly in her lap as he settled beside her. His voice slid around her like a practiced dance.
“… and of course, Lord Delaney was only too eager to secure my partnership. These ventures always need a guiding hand, someone with a touch of foresight. You understand, don’t you, Lady Anna?”
Anna nodded, polite but distant. “Of course.”
Matthew studied her, his tone warming slightly. “You’ve always had a fine sense of practicality. It’s one of the things I admire most about you.”
The compliment settled awkwardly between them.
“I believe in balance,” she said quietly. “Practicality and happiness don’t have to be mutually exclusive.”
“Perhaps. But not everyone has the chance to chase happiness.”
He continued to speak about some estate in Sussex he’d recently ridden through, waxing poetic about hedgerows and profit margins in the same breath.
She nodded politely, trying to seem attentive. But her attention kept slipping, her mind wandering in spite of itself.
She was too aware of how close he sat.
Too aware of the way his hand lingered, resting against the edge of the bench, just shy of brushing her skirt. It wasn’t improper, not exactly, but it felt intentional, just enough to remind her of his presence, just enough to make her pulse rise for all the wrong reasons.
She smiled when she was meant to, made a soft sound of interest when he mentioned his uncle’s summer holdings, but inside she was calculating how quickly she could excuse herself.
And then, she felt it. That pull.
She didn’t look up right away. She didn’t have to. Her skin had already prickled with the awareness of him. Henry was somewhere nearby. Watching.
It was ridiculous, really, that her body could react before her thoughts had caught up, that the memory of his eyes, his voice, the attention of this morning, could stir something low and unsteady inside her. But it was there.
And when she glanced up just for a moment, her eyes caught his across the lawn.
He stood beside Isaac, perfectly composed, hands in his pockets, that same cool elegance he wore like a second skin. But he wasn’t listening to her cousin.
He was watching her.
