Page 44 of Duke of Bronze
She nodded, making a grand show of inspecting the weed as though it were a treasured relic. "A most distinguished token of favor. I had been a memorable guest—one whose company they found most agreeable."
Colin let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "And what does that make me, then? An unmemorable guest?" He glanced down at himself. "I returned with nothing but soaked boots."
Anna pursed her lips, feigning deep contemplation. "A regrettable oversight, to be sure. Perhaps we ought to go back and inquire?"
"Years ago, I might have been foolish enough to dive straight back in for another chance at glory. But alas," he leaned back on his elbows, gazing up at the sky with a wistful gleam in his eyes, "I am far too weary for such recklessness now."
"Ah, so we are to blame age for your lack of adventurous spirit?"
"Indeed. My years now bear heavily upon me," he sighed, and glanced at her.
Anna let out a laugh, shaking her head. "You speak as though you are old and wilting already."
Colin exhaled in mock weariness, stretching his legs before him. "Why, I feel like a creaky old cart half the time," he admitted, though his voice was light with humor. "Gone are the days when I could leap into lakes without fearing the consequences."
She arched a brow. "Am I to believe you were once a reckless youth, then?"
A slow, reminiscent smile played on his lips. "More reckless than you might imagine," he admitted. "There was a lake much like this one near my childhood home in the country. I spent many summers there with an orphan boy I befriended. We fashioned ourselves as pirates, amassing wealth and treasures."
Anna tilted her head. "Treasures?"
"Rocks and shells," Colin admitted with a chuckle. "A peculiar currency, to be sure, but we were rich beyond measure in our own minds."
Anna found herself smiling at the image he painted—two boys, sun-kissed and wild, conquering the world one pebble at a time. "And what became of this orphan boy?" she asked, intrigued. "It sounds as though you had quite the friendship."
Colin's smile deepened, but this time, there was something softer in it, something unmistakably fond. "He is my valet now."
Anna blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the simplicity of his response. Of all the answers she had expected, that had not been one of them. She studied him, noting the quiet pride in his voice, the way his usual air of jest had been replaced by something altogether more genuine.
"You have kept him by your side all these years," she murmured. "That is… rather remarkable."
Colin shrugged, as if dismissing the significance of it. But Anna was not fooled. There was something deeply steadfast in his loyalty; in the way he spoke of his valet—not as a servant, but as a friend.
And it struck her then, quite suddenly, that she admired him. Truly admired him.
The realization unsettled her, sending a flutter through her chest that she could not quite suppress. It was dangerous, this unfamiliar sensation, this shifting of the ground beneath her feet.
For the first time since their acquaintance, she felt as though they were not locked in a perpetual battle of wits, and were good friends instead.
Yet, her heart beat far too quickly and her breathing far too shallow. Anna looked away, willing herself to regain her composure.
She feared—deeply feared—that their friendship came too late.
CHAPTER 17
"Isn't that right, my lady?"
"I beg your pardon?" Anna blinked, abruptly pulled from her thoughts.
A peal of laughter erupted from her small audience. "Why, she wasn't listening again!” Kitty, a bright-eyed girl of no more than six, giggled behind her hand.
"Lady Anna is woolgathering again," Robbie—a boy of nine with an impish grin—declared with great satisfaction.
Anna sighed, though a smile played at the corners of her lips. "I fear you have caught me, Robbie. My apologies."
Truth be told, she had spent the better part of the morning lost in memories of the lake. Of Colin. And no matter how she attempted to banish the thought, it lingered, creeping in at the most inconvenient moments.
Before she could fashion an excuse for her distraction, the door to the ward swung open, and Nurse Adams entered, her expression one of mild intrigue. "My lady, there is a caller for you. A gentleman who claims to be your friend."
