Page 78 of Duke of Bronze
At last, Colin sighed and shook his head, as if seeing her in a new light. "He thinks highly of you, you know," he murmured.
"He appreciates your generosity as well," Colin said. There was a subtle shift in his expression now, something watchful beneath the casual remark.
Anna stilled slightly, her fingers tightening around her glass. Generosity? The word struck her as oddly specific. She had not expected Roderick to share such a detail.
Had he?
Roderick was a man of immense pride, despite his circumstances. He was private—often to a fault—and the thought of him openly speaking of any form of charity grated against everything she knew of him. In truth, he barely tolerated what little she managed to extend to his family, accepting only after much persuasion and never without some degree of reluctance.
So how, precisely, did Colinknow?
She looked him over, her mind turning. Was Roderick truly so close to Colin that he had spoken of matters she had thoughtconfidential? Their connection had always seemed one of business—an advantageous arrangement between a sportsman and his wealthy patron. But if Colin was privy to such intimate details, did their relationship extend beyond that?
The thought unsettled her.
She met Colin's gaze, searching for something—some indication of what hereallyknew—but his expression remained infuriatingly composed. Not quite smug, but far too knowing for her liking.
Well played, Your Grace.
"The Millards are remarkable people," she replied at last, carefully choosing her words. "I only wish I could do more."
"We simply continue to try our best then," Colin said, pouring himself another measure of brandy before lifting the decanter in silent offering.
Anna hesitated only a moment before accepting, extending her tumbler as he poured. The warmth of the brandy had settled into her limbs now, loosening the tension that had taken root earlier. For the first time that evening, she felt almost at ease.
Colin swirled his glass, watching the amber liquid catch the candlelight. "I must admit, Anna, you continue to surprise me."
She arched a brow over the rim of her glass. "Do I?"
"Indeed." He leaned back slightly, studying her with that infuriatingly unreadable gaze. "There is a great deal more to you than society would assume."
Anna smirked. "That is not a particularly high bar to exceed, given society's assumptions."
Colin chuckled. "Fair enough. But even so, you are not what I expected."
She tilted her head. "And what, pray, did you expect?"
He considered her for a moment, a slow, contemplative smile forming. "I am not entirely certain. But I know I should like to continue finding out."
Anna's breath caught slightly, and she forced herself to take a measured sip of her drink, as though the burn of the brandy might temper whatever warmth had just unfurled in her chest.
A silence settled between them—not entirely uncomfortable, but charged with something unspoken; something neither seemed willing to name.
And then?—
"Lady Fiona mentioned an interest in the estate's stables earlier," Colin remarked idly, breaking the quiet. "I shall have to arrange a proper tour for everyone before the house party concludes."
The moment the words left his mouth, something within Anna shifted.
The ease she had felt only moments ago vanished, replaced by a jolt of something sharp, something wholly unwelcome.
She set her glass down with more force than necessary. "That sounds like a fine plan," she said briskly, though she was suddenly desperate to be anywhere but here.
Colin's brow furrowed slightly at her abrupt change in demeanor. "Anna?—"
But she was already rising to her feet. "It is quite late. I should retire."
Colin blinked, clearly caught off guard. "You were perfectly at ease a moment ago."
