Page 94 of Duke of Bronze
Anna could not help the half-laugh that escaped her then. But it was short-lived. Her fingers tightened around the edge of the box.
Colin. After nearly a week of silence, after leaving her in that awful state of uncertainty, he had sentthis.
A gown. A mask. An invitation disguised as a challenge.
She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in deep.
She ought not go. Sheknewthat. Not with her heart laid bare, now fully aware of what she felt for him—and what she feared he did not return.
But… she wanted to see him.Achedto see him. Even if it was only one last time.
"My, if this is truly your final engagement with him, then all the more reason to ensure you leave him haunted by your departure," Petunia mused, already lifting the box to her arms. "Mask or no mask, we shall make art of you, darling. A vision."
Before Anna could argue—or confess the maelstrom inside her—the butler appeared in the doorway.
"Lady Nancy Gallagher and Lady Hester Jensen have called upon you, my lady."
"Of course they have," Petunia said, already sailing toward the exit. "I shall take these up to your chambers. Do not dawdle."
She disappeared in a rustle of lavender silk, leaving Anna just enough time to compose herself before Nancy and Hester entered.
She rose quickly. "Goodness, I wasn't expecting you both—where's Fiona?"
"Something came up, unfortunately," Nancy said, though her glance was brief.
"Yes, she sends her regrets," Hester added. "She was quite disappointed."
Anna nodded slowly, masking the disappointment that curled low in her stomach. Had Fiona truly been detained—or was she simply avoiding her? Their last conversation had peeled open truths too raw to ignore.
But she smiled, nonetheless. "Well, I'm glad you both could come. What are we discussing today?"
"The charity ball, of course," Nancy said as she settled onto the settee. "It seems it shall be far larger than any of us anticipated. Now that it's to close the Season, expectations have grown quite… dramatically."
Anna sank into her seat, willing herself to focus. Dresses, masquerades, charity balls—they were all distractions. But sometimes, distractions were all a person had.
"This shall be more work than we initially imagined," Hester announced, her fingers already fluttering in mid-air as if she were plucking names from the ether. "I say we begin the guest list at once, so we may leave ample time for the more dreadful matters, such as seating and menu cards."
Anna offered a polite nod, but her mind lagged several paces behind.
"Let's see… Lady Sefton, naturally. And Lord Trevelyan, though he mustn't be seated near the card tables. And of course—" Hester paused with dramatic flair, "—Copperton must be there too."
At the sound of his name, Anna's breath caught before she could school her features. Her spine remained straight, her chin delicately tilted, but her heart had dropped like a stone in her chest.
Colin.
Again.
As if summoned by thought alone, he hovered in the back of her mind, unrelenting. Her excitement over the masquerade—the gown, the mystery, the sheer romance of it—was slowly giving way to something heavier. Dread. That unmistakable ache that came when one knew precisely how a story ended and was still powerless to stop the final page from turning.
She had deceived herself far too long. Believed she could dance with him, laugh with him, even fall a little in love with him—and not pay the price. But now she knew better.
She would see him, yes. Once more. And after that, she would have to live with the knowing.
"We'll have to tell Fiona about all the changes, naturally," someone said, though the voice felt oddly distant—as though muffled by water or layered behind her thoughts.
"Do you think that will do, Anna?"
The question broke through the haze, pulling Anna's attention back with a jolt.
