Anastasia was a bundle of nerves. Excitement had collided with nervousness, creating an emotion too powerful to name. She desperately wanted to believe that her fairy tale would have a happy ending. She had not felt this way in such a long time, not since that first day at the cottage.
Isabel had made excuses for Anastasia, claiming she was indisposed with another headache; she only hoped that no one would suspect contrary. Strolling along the path that led to the obelisk, she was surrounded by a woodland area.
Everything seemed more vibrant, more alive. Fresh pine mingled with the faint scent of orchids. The chirp of the birds even seemed louder, happier. Anastasia twirled down the path, lost in the loveliness around her. She could not control the joy that spilled over from her heart and coursed through the rest of her body.
Laughter halted her dance.
“And what do you find so amusing?” She questioned Dante who was leaning against a tree, looking entirely too handsome.
“You.” He pushed off the tree and picked up a basket and began to approach her. “You can’t imagine how many times I have dreamt of you like that.”
She raised a brow. “Twirling about like a child?”
“There is nothing childlike about you.” Anastasia could feel the heat flush her cheeks as Dante’s eyes roamed over her ankles to lips and back again. Her heart skipped a beat, but she remained still. For a brief moment, she thought he was going to kiss her. Instead, he extended his arm. “Shall we?”
“Where are we going?”
“Since we are missing the impromptu picnic being hosted by Lord Tabard, I thought we could have one of our own.”
“I’m rather glad to miss seeing him. He is quite disagreeable.”
Dante laughed. “That is a mild way to put it.”
“I don’t want to talk of disagreeable things. Not today at least.” Anastasia was still not ready to discuss what happened. She didn’t want to keep secrets, but she hoped that Dante would give her a little more time. It was a delicate matter and her heart remained a fragile thing.
“What would you like to talk about?”
* * *
The space between her brows crinkled and Anna had kept silent for the longest time. They had just emerged from the wooded trail when she finally answered. “Clouds,” she giggled with delight.
Clouds? He was just about to question her choice of topic when he remembered her fondness for discovering images hidden in the clouds. “Then you are in luck, my lady.” He opened the basket and pulled out a small blanket. “I have just the accessory to fulfill your desire.”
Anna took the blanket from him and whipped it open. The white rectangle floated to the earth like snow on a blustery day. Dante set the basket down at one end and before he could offer assistance Anna had already sat down and was staring up at the clouds.
“I see a castle in the sky with great big moat.”
Dante sat down next her, the scent of lavender and honey teasing him to edge closer. He looked up. “A moat no less? Is that to keep marauding barbarians at bay?” He glimpsed at her out of the corner of his eye. In some ways, it was as if not a day had passed. She remained as lovely as ever, and his feelings had never faltered. He remembered fondly their first picnic. They had played this game back then too.
“What are you thinking?” Anna had brought her knees up and was resting her cheek on them.
“I was thinking of our first picnic.”
She began to laugh. “It didn’t end well.” He must have cast a puzzled look. She began to explain, “Don’t you remember? It had begun to rain and when we ran for cover, I lost my slipper, and then you tore your jacket.”
He had forgotten about the rain. “Despite your lost slipper and the jacket I had never cared for in the first place, it was a perfect day.”
“I agree.” She took in a jagged breath and turned away, but not before he saw the sadness and hurt that lingered in her eyes.
“Won’t you tell me…?”
“I do not want to discuss any unpleasantness today.” She stood as she said the words and then ran off toward the obelisk.
Dante didn’t know anything that she had been through for the past eight years, but something told him that he would not like the answer. He was not going to upset her with talk of their time apart; he just wanted to spend what little time remained of their afternoon together talking and reminiscing.
* * *
Dante did not know how he was going to make it through the evening without trying to kiss Anastasia. She looked positively edible in her pale blue gown. He wasn’t the only one who appeared to notice as well.
Mr. Bacon had entered the room and dashed straight for her. Dante was fuming, but with his grandmother present, he knew better than to try and intervene. Grandmother was still reeling over his disappearance earlier in the day. Her punishment came in the none-too-subtle hints about what an excellent wife Lady Brenda would make. Right. For Lord Tabard.
Dante saw Anna’s forced smile and refused to let her deal with the likes of Mr. Bacon any longer. With a casual gait that he did not feel, Dante went to her side.
“Good evening, Miss Quintin.” He nodded his head toward her. The second their eyes met, a delicious blush stained her cheeks. He turned his attention to the obnoxious gentleman who had only moments ago discomposed the woman Dante loved. “Mr. Bacon. How are you this evening?”
The man cleared his voice, obviously uncomfortable in Dante’s presence. “Fine, yes, quite… Excellent house party, Lord Huntingdon.” He fumbled through a series of incoherent words.
“I was just speaking to Miss James.” Dante leaned in, lowering his voice so as not to be overheard. “She was inquiring after you.”
Mr. Bacon’s eyes brightened with interest. “You don’t say? Well,” he puffed out his large chest, “I believe I will search her out.” He bowed to Anna and then took his leave.
“Thank you for rescuing me, but I do not believe it was kind of you to subjugate poor Miss James to the dull conversation that she will surely have to endure.”
“Ah, that is where you are wrong.” Although Anna eyed him with curiosity, he did not respond right away, not until she gave him that sideways smile that he had always loved. “I have it on good authority that Miss James is indeed smitten with Mr. Bacon.” Dante leaned in and whispered, “I believe it a mutual fondness for marzipan that brought them together.”
Anna let out a giggle. “Marzipan?” She raised a delicate brow.
Dante chuckled at her query. “No, but I do know that she fancies him.”
Anna shook her head, clearly not believing him.
“I’ve missed you.” He whispered out the words so that no one might hear.
She lowered her lashes and offered a smile. “Me too.”
“Will you meet…?”
“Durante, I need you.” His grandmother’s words broke through their interlude. She had stood and began to approach them, her hand extended in front of her, prepared to edge him along.
“Go on,” Anna mouthed.
Dante bowed and reluctantly walked away, hoping that his grandmother did not suspect where his feelings lay. There was a time and place to confront his grandmother, and it was not now, in front of all their guests.
* * *
As Anastasia watched him walk away, a pang struck her heart. She had suspected that his grandmother did not approve of her presence and she did not know what she could do to earn her favor. Just as on previous nights, Anastasia was last to enter to the dining hall and seated farthest from Dante. The dinner passed just as it had on previous occasions with her hardly noticing the quality of the food or conversation that was being spoken around her.
After dinner, the ladies retreated to the Italian room while the men retired to the library. Anastasia did not want to be cornered by Lady Huntingdon again and made sure to stay close to Philippa and Isabel. But that did not stop the constant glares coming from Lady Huntingdon, which had increased, if that were at all possible. Anastasia took comfort in knowing that her two dearest friends were close at hand.
“It is a beautiful evening, and the moonlight is so bright; I believe I would like a walk in the garden.” Isabel’s loud statement startled the ladies that were sitting near to them, earning her scornful looks.
“I believe that I will join you as well,” Philippa’s voice was equally loud. What were they up to? “Anastasia, would you care to join us?”
She suspected that even if she did not want to, Philippa and Isabel would insist. She stood and followed her friends toward the French doors that led out into the garden. Anastasia noticed that Lady Huntingdon had followed with them with a stern gaze, but did not get up.
When they were a safe distance from the house, Anastasia questioned, “What are the two of you up to?”
“Shh.” Philippa glanced over Anastasia’s shoulder. “I don’t believe anyone followed us,” she muttered before tugging Anastasia’s hand and pulling her toward the hedge maze. It did not take long to reach the maze, and once they entered, the house disappeared from sight.
“Thank you, Mrs. Weston and Miss Albryght.” She heard Dante’s deep voice before she saw him emerge from around the corner, his features still concealed by the shadows.
“You arranged this?” Anastasia did not ask the question to any one of them in particular.
“How else was I to spend a moment alone with you without all the curious onlookers?”
As if they sensed they were interrupting Anastasia and Dante, Philippa and Isabel began to back away.
“We will wait at the opening,” Philippa said on a giggle. “Don’t be too long.”
The moment her friends disappeared into the shadows, Dante pulled Anastasia into his embrace and kissed her softly. Her toes curled in her satin shoes. Not even the night air could cool her inflamed desire.
“What happens when we are caught?” She asked breathless. It was a practical question, and, apparently, Dante had already thought of all the answers.
“We won’t get caught. The men are in the library and not even my grandmother is bold enough to venture in there while the men are taking their cigars and brandy. And besides, Colt is covering for me on the off chance that my grandmother gets inquisitive.”
He cupped her face, stroking her cheek with his ungloved hand. “I could not wait to see you any longer.”
“It rather impossible to even have the briefest of conversations with Lady Huntingdon always glaring in my direction. I do not believe she cares for me.”
“She does not care for anyone.” There was no sadness in his voice. What had that cold, stern woman done to harden his heart? “I don’t want to talk about my grandmother when I only have you alone for a few minutes.”
“What do you wish to do?” The words were laced with want and desire. Anastasia could hardly believe what she said. She had never been so forward in her entire life.
“This.” Dante wasted no time bringing her full against his hard frame and kissed her. His tongue probed and danced with hers. Anastasia wrapped her arms about his neck, trying to touch even more of him. His hand roamed her backside, exploring its way down. He cupped her bottom and squeezed. She felt the breath leave her body replaced with a desire that she had not ever felt before.
“Please, Dante…” she begged against his mouth. It had been so long since she had found pleasure; she did not want the moment to end.
Dante pulled back. Even in the dim moonlight she could see his gaze narrow. He shifted his head this way and that. “Someone is coming,” he murmured into her ear.
Anastasia opened her mouth to speak, but then heard a faint whistle in the distance followed by a soft giggle. She did not think it was Lady Huntingdon; that woman was not capable of such a joyous act.
“Meet me tomorrow at the pantheon at noon.” He offered a quick kiss and then released her before he disappeared into the maze. With all due haste, Anastasia quickly rejoined her friends.
Were she and Dante ever to have more than just a few stolen moments alone?