Page 112 of Duke of Bronze
The boys roared their approval, but Anna only tickled her once more.
"Oh, you always have been our little princess," Anna teased. "And you always shall be."
"Indeed," Roderick chimed in with mock solemnity, lifting his spoon like a sword. "Now let us finish our repast quickly, lest the pirates grow bold and we miss our chance to be knighted by Her Highness before battle."
The children resumed their meal with renewed purpose, chattering excitedly about their forthcoming adventures. Anna allowed herself to relax.
There, in that humble room filled with warmth and laughter, surrounded by mismatched dishes and the scent of fresh bread, she had the most pleasant day she had known since returning to Town.
"You do not mean to take dinner this evening either, Your Grace?"
Colin did not so much as glance up from the papers he had been pretending to read.
"I am engaged at present. You may leave, Fisher."
The valet, ever composed, inclined his head and turned toward the door—but paused midway across the room.
"I daresay you are starving yourself now, Your Grace."
His tone was tight, bordering on insubordinate, but the concern threaded through it was unmistakable.
Colin set his pen down, lifting his gaze slowly.
"I should advise you," he said, voice low and clipped, "not to presume knowledge of my thoughts, nor of what governs my decisions."
Fisher did not move.
"I do not presume to know," he replied after a beat. "But Idoknow that sitting in shadows and turning your back on nourishment is no strategy for triumph. It is surrender, and it does not suit you."
Colin's jaw worked silently.
"You are a man who knows precisely what he wants," Fisher continued, more gently now. "And I have never seen you retreat from the pursuit of that which you desired—be it position, principle, or person."
The words hung in the air.
Colin looked away.
If only he held a fraction of that same confidence in himself.
If only he believed he could have her.
Anna.
But what was hope to a man already defeated?
Fisher gave a small bow. "I shall prepare your wardrobe for the Charity Ball, Your Grace."
Colin blinked. The ball. Of course. The final event of the Season—the same one Anna had been planning with her friends. Theclosing flourish to a whirlwind of weeks and days that had brought him to his knees.
He had all but forgotten. Or perhaps he had tried to.
As the door shut quietly behind his valet, Colin leaned back in his chair, and sighed.This is not over. No, far from it.
CHAPTER 40
"If you are unwell, you need not attend, Anna dear," Aunt Peggy said gently, her brows knitting with concern.
Anna, seated before her vanity while Miss Watson fussed over her hair, met her aunt's gaze in the mirror. Her eyes were tired, rimmed faintly in red, and her complexion was undeniably wan.
