Page 99 of Duke of Bronze
He didn't wait for a reply. Didn't need one. The look in her eyes—wide, stunned, and unmistakably moved—was enough.
With that, he turned on his heel and stepped into the street, the cool afternoon breeze brushing across his face like a balm.
And for the first time in far too long, he felt peace settle in his chest.
Anna had never looked—nor felt—quite so beautiful.
She caught her reflection again in the mirror hanging in the vestibule and nearly startled at the vision staring back. The crimson and gold gown shimmered with each breath she drew, the embroidery catching the candlelight in elegant threads of fire and light. Her matching reticule hung delicately from her wrist, and in her gloved hand, she clutched the golden mask.
Her heart beat an unfamiliar rhythm beneath the fine boning of her bodice.
Colin was coming for her. Their final outing. Their last date.
And she was utterly, absurdly nervous.
The door opened before she could summon another calming breath, and there he was—tall, composed, infuriatingly handsome in his formal attire.
"I knew you would bring life to the garment," he said at once, his voice low, steady.
Anna blinked. "Is that a compliment I hear?" she asked, trying for lightness but hearing the stiffness in her own voice. Where was her fire? Her confidence? She felt like a debutante at her first assembly, awkward and uncertain.
He arched a brow, ever the picture of composure. "I am merely saying that I possess excellent taste in attire."
"My, if I remember correctly, you just saidIbrought the gown to life—not the other way round," she returned, managing a chuckle.
"Well played," he laughed then, properly and freely.
The air shifted, and the tension in her shoulders eased. He offered his arm, and she took it, allowing him to lead her to the waiting carriage.
Once they were seated within, the familiar clatter of wheels beginning beneath them, she ventured, "I promised myself I would not ask where we're going tonight."
Colin gave her a sidelong glance, amused. "Can you be any less obvious?"
"Why?" she returned with a feigned innocence. "I am merely curious. And besides, were Inotto ask, it would imply I had finally grasped the concept of surprise. And where, I ask you, is the fun in that?"
"No fun at all," he agreed, laughing again.
Their laughter laced the space between them—warm, familiar. It felt like the old rhythm they had shared once, before feelings had complicated things. But for Anna, each soft laugh was a bittersweet chord. Because she knew. She knew what it all meant now. What he meant to her.
And what she could never have.
Still, she schooled her expression, composed her heart. This was their last night. And she would not let sorrow tarnish it before it even began.
The carriage slowed. She leaned forward, catching glimpses of lanterns flickering through trees, the hum of music in the air.
Vauxhall Gardens.
He stepped out first and turned to help her down, his gloved hand firm beneath hers.
"Time to become anonymous," he said, producing her mask and gently adjusting it when her fingers fumbled.
As he secured the ribbon at the back of her head, she caught sight of a figure across the crowd—half-shrouded by shadows—watching her.
But before she could truly register him, the mask slipped and obscured her view.
When Anna looked again, he was gone.
CHAPTER 36
