“I’m still upset with him for what he did to you.”
She trapped her bottom lip between her teeth. The fact the Dowager blamed Anthony hurt, but he’d told her not to say anything.
“We did it together. Please don’t blame him. I was happy to be with him.”
“Are you happy now?” The Dowager’s tone became suddenly low. “Does he make you happy?”
“Yes. Anthony is the best man I’ve ever met.”
The Dowager ran the brush down Isabella’s long hair with gentle strokes. “I love him dearly. He was a shy boy while Patrick was the cheeky one. But Anthony was always ready to protect his brother from every danger or a well-earned scold. He wants to protect those he loves.”
“He protects me, too. From myself as well. I’m happy with him.”
“I was happy with my husband as well. Our marriage was an arranged one, but we liked each other from the beginning. That was until our son died, and he sold Maiden Hill. I haven’t forgiven him, either.”
“Are you sorry we’re restoring the secret garden? It was your husband’s project.”
The Dowager smiled. “How can I be sorry when the garden is bringing so much joy to you and Anthony? No, don’t worry about me. Instead, you should be worried about Patrick.”
“Patrick?” She did her best not to gasp.
“That boy.” The Dowager released a long breath. “He wants to court Lady Sophia von Gruner, marry her. He has lost his mind.”
“That’s good, isn’t it? If he marries Sophia, there are good chances Maiden Hill will return to you.”
“You don’t know Patrick. He has a good heart, but I’ve heard him declaring his undying love for a lady more times than I care to count. He’ll seduce Sophia and leave her.”
No, she knew Patrick a little.
* * *
The night skywas clear and with no moon when Anthony got ready to watch the stars.
He was eager to show Isabella the beauty of the night on an island where there weren’t lights. Holding her hand and a lantern, he led her down the stairs to the secret garden.
The fragrance of jasmine rose from the bushes, and the rocks cooling down in the night released a salty-metallic fragrance he found intoxicating. They stretched on a picnic blanket next to the pool, in a spot where the tree branches didn’t cover the starlight.
“It’s so beautiful.” She laced her fingers through his, watching the dark velvet of the sky, and his pulse gave a kick.
“A shooting star.” He pointed at the flash of silver crossing the sky.
“I missed it.”
The crickets replaced the cicadas at night and sang their soft tune, but his heart beat louder.
“I saw one,” she said.
“Have you expressed your wish?”
“I have.” She pouted. “But it’s not coming true.”
“What did you wish for?”
“For a kiss from my husband.”
He propped himself up on his elbow and dipped his head.
She tasted of summer and roses, of hope and good dreams. He moved his lips slowly as she tangled her fingers through his hair and pulled him closer.
