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“I am glad to have given him a new interest, even if your grandmother was not so pleased by the subject,” she said, chuckling. “He is a wonderful boy and, I have to say, meeting him was worth the otherwise pointless journey.”

Anthony barely took in what she said, he was so captivated by how beautiful she was when she smiled. As if she had been hiding up until now and had finally revealed her true face.

She said no to you… rather rudely.

He looked away, clearing his throat. “Yes, well, if you would like to meet with him again, you are welcome to visit. I am sure he would be glad of the company.”

He obviously did not care if he saw her again or not; he was only inviting her for her son’s sake, or so he told himself. A chance to be a better father than he had been of late. And it was true that William had not stopped talking about Marina; the boy would be exceptionally happy if he could see her and interrogate her about strange things once more.

Marina’s brow creased, the cheerful shine of her eyes transforming into a glint of suspicion at the invitation.

“No need to feel obliged, of course,” he said, and walked off toward his grandmother, who had paused to speak with a young lady and, presumably, her mother.

Meanwhile, Marina’s uncle came back in the opposite direction, joining his niece.

“Anthony, this is Lady Bosworth and her eldest daughter, Lady Abigail,” Harriet said with a pointed smile, gesturing to the two women.

Anthony dipped his head in a bow. “A pleasure to meet you.”

As his grandmother led the usual inane conversation about how they were enjoying the Season, if they had been to the theater yet, if they were attending some ball or other this week, if they planned to spend any time at their country residence this summer, Anthony felt his attention slipping back to Marina, over and over. Each time his head snapped back to the dull conversation, it was like a physical tug, pulling his gaze to Marina.

She was laughing at something her uncle had said, her arm sliding into the older man’s as they turned and headed off, away from Anthony.

“What do you think, Anthony?” Harriet asked, though he had not been listening.

He shook his head, taking one last look at Marina’s retreating back. “Honestly, I have no idea what to think.”

“About the opera?” Lady Abigail asked quizzically.

Anthony forced a smile, for it was not like him to be so distracted. “Indeed. I never know if I am enjoying myself or not.”

The ladies all laughed, and when Anthony glanced at the spot where Marina had been, she was already gone.

CHAPTER SIX

“Did you have a pleasant conversation with the duke?” Bernard asked, hope raising the pitch of his voice. “His grandmother is a wonderful woman.”

They were in the carriage on the way back to the Mayfair townhouse, the sounds of London crackling in Marina’s ears. She did not know when she had become so averse to noise, but she could hardly stand it, missing the peace of Stadley terribly.

Eager to avoid the conversation about Anthony, Duke of Knotgill, she smiled sweetly. “What did the two of you talk about? You seemed pleased to see her.”

“Oh heavens… so many memories that I had forgotten,” he replied with a sigh. “Your father and I accompanied our sister to one of her first balls at Knotgill House, under the masterful hosting of Her Grace. And they had such lovely parties in the summer.”

“It is a fine house,” Marina said, though she had seen so little of it.

But Bernard did not seem to be listening, his gaze faraway as he added, “In truth, that is where I first met Angelica.” He paused, his eyes misty. “I had escaped the festivities to catch my breath, and she had the same idea. The grounds are so vast that I do not know how we managed to stumble into each other, but we did.”

“How very scandalous,” Marina teased lightly.

The matter of Lady Angelica, second daughter to the Earl of Trowbridge, was a rather sensitive subject for Bernard. Sometimes, he liked to remember her. Sometimes, he closed off the discussion at once.

Bernard chuckled. “Yes, I suppose it was. We walked together for an hour around the lake. No chaperone in sight.” He blushed a little. “I even took her hand.”

“You loved her very much?” Marina pressed gently, uncertain of when or if his sadness might end the conversation and dissatisfy her curiosity once again.

A frown pushed Bernard’s eyebrows down. “I… think I did. It is hard to remember now.” His forehead softened. “But for that hour, I fell in love with her. What a funny thing it is: love.”

Ordinarily, she would have jumped in to talk about the theories she had read, that said love was merely a trick of the mind and body, to increase the possibility of procreation. But she figured it was not the time or the place, while her dear uncle was thinking about the woman who had broken his heart.