“I have a question for you,” she began.
Anthony’s eyes widened, and Harriet realized he thought she was about to proposition him. She quickly added, “It is nothing salacious.”
He grinned, amused that she’d said such a thing. Harriet blushed and held out the paper she’d found. “Are you the King of Garnets?”
His expression became shuttered, and he walked to her. Plucking the note from her fingers, Anthony said nothing. She stated, “I found it on the ground in the hallway.”
He nodded. “I am. Well, Jon and I are.”
She stared at him in wonder. “Why haven’t you told your family or anyone else?”
Anthony sighed. “Because I enjoy my privacy, and once it gets out, that will go away forever. London is already talking about the King of Garnets; when they discover the businessmen behind the moniker are the Duke of Webster’s brother and childhood friend, gossip will explode.”
Harriet agreed with him. They’d both be sought after and invited to everything. “Jon doesn’t know what he is in for. At least you have grown up in this world.”
He chuckled. “I keep telling him that. He seems somewhat skeptical that it will be a big deal.”
She smiled, amused. “Congratulations.”
His eyes dip down to the garnet pendant she wore. “I saw your necklace when I first arrived home.”
“They are all the rage now because everyone wants to solve the mystery of who is the King of Garnets, but even before the gossip, I loved them. The deep red hue exudes passion and excitement.”
He stepped towards Harriet and held her pendant, staring at it intently. She sucked in a breath, feeling as if they were scandalously close to each other. “Your pendant isn’t from Bohemia but a different region.”
Curious, she asked, “How do you know?”
“Bohemia garnets are deep red. You would look lovely with a necklace full of them.”
Anthony’s fingers slid along the gold chain around her neck, gliding over her skin—a shiver coursed down her body at the light touch. Anthony cleared his throat and stepped back. “I’d appreciate it if, for now, you don’t mention it to anyone. My brother deduced it was me as well. I imagine he has told Lillian, but no one else.”
“Does your mother know?”
He shook his head. “All of England would know within a day.”
She laughed, and Anthony added. “I love her, but she is not one to keep a secret.”
“My mother is atrocious at them as well.”
Their mothers were close and had only become closer since the death of their husbands. Both ladies loved gossip—both hearing and sharing it.
“I promise not to say anything,” Harriet said.
He nodded. Something swirled between them. It made her want to stay, but Harriet had no real reason to. “I should go.”
Anthony nodded, and they walked out the library door together. She glanced up and spotted the mistletoe hanging over the entryway. A blush bloomed on her cheeks. He’d probably not seen it. They were old childhood friends. He shouldn’t kiss her.
As they finally reached the stairs, it was clear he hadn’t seen the stems of leaves hanging over the door. She should have been relieved, but for some reason wasn’t.
“Goodnight. I’m going to stay down here for a bit,” Anthony said.
They stared at one another, and shockingly, he leaned forward, brushing his lips over hers softly and quickly. Her eyes widened. “Why did you do that?”
Anthony grinned. “There was mistletoe at the door of the library.”
She nodded. His soft, proper kiss had been her first. Harriet had expected something different. She frowned, and he tilted his head. “What is it?”
“I suppose I imagined my first clandestine kiss would be different.”
