She entered the small office off a library her mother gave her to conduct her charity work. At the desk, she rifled through her papers, trying to decide which story to tell. She wanted to save the pirate story for the children at the orphanage, as she had finished it just two nights past. The second one she wrote with Lord Pershore as the villain, the one where Emily and Lord Tipton end up together… if she were careful to give them different names… Yes. That would do quite nicely.

A knock at the door had her jumping, and a few of the papers slipped through her fingers and drifted to the ground.

“Allow me.” Without waiting for her to invite him in, Lord Pershore entered the room and picked up some of the papers.

She picked up the rest and clutched them all to her chest. He had not noticed his name on any of the papers, had he?

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, glancing around.

He flushed. “You were taking a long time, and Lady Emily thought… I did not mean to startle you.”

Anna lowered her gaze. “I am sorry too. Shall we?”

Amazingly, he offered her his arm, and she only hesitated a moment before taking it. Perhaps she was mistaken, but she felt almost something like a spark at the moment of initial contact between them. She jolted, and he looked down at her. Timidly, she smiled at him. He returned with a slow, lopsided smile that made her realize just how handsome he was.

But there was something else that drew her to him at the moment. His eyes. A flash of concern flickered there that melted into confusion and then peace.

Was he as perplexed about her as she was him? He was being a perfect gentleman now. In fact, he hardly seemed to resemble the man who had been so curt with Caleb, the stablehand. Maybe he was going through a troubling patch. Did not everyone have bad days? For now, he seemed happy, and she was glad for it.

They rejoined the others. Despite the brisk weather, everyone agreed with her suggestion that she read outside. She led them to her favorite rock, which she stood on and read the story by lantern light. Everyone enjoyed the tale and clapped when she finished, and Anna flushed with pride.

But then it all crumbled apart. The duke bid everyone farewell and left. Emily and Lord Tipton, along with a chaperone, went off for a walk. Now, Anna was alone with Lord Pershore, and her maid as their chaperone, of course.

Anna fiddled with her papers and clutched them to her chest. “I confess I overheard you talking earlier about gossips. You seem rather… predisposed toward not liking them. Which I understand,” she rushed to add. “Speaking about others behind their backs is not kindly at all…”

Oh, perhaps one day she should learn that the words out of her mouth were nowhere near as eloquent as the ones she quilled!

* * *

Why was Lady Anna bringing up this conversation? She seemed so flustered and rattled. Were his musings about her role in that particular nasty affair correct after all? Trust was a matter of great importance to him. In his mind, a lady who wagged her tongue was no lady at all. Perhaps he would never be able to trust a lady.

The wind rifled through the papers clenched in her hands. Her story had been enjoyable and adventurous, and he had enjoyed hearing it immensely. It suggested that she took up the quill often. Why, she might even write for…

Jasper did his best to not scowl. “I think that those who would lie to sell papers should be hanged.”

Her eyes widened, and she took a step back on the rock.

He held out his hand to help her down. “I do not care for the likes ofThe Teatime Tattlerespecially. It grates me that—”

“Have you read Aunt Augusta’s column? She gives ladies and gentlemen hope and advice about love and more. I, myself, find it a kind read. Surely even you can find no fault with it.”

He scoffed. “Every week, Aunt Augusta repeats herself. ‘Love will find a way.’ ‘Love is worth the wait.’ She oversimplifies love.”

“So you think love is complicated?”

Belatedly, he realized their hands were still clasped, and he released his hold on her. The lack of her warmth made his fingers feel that much colder. “Matters of the heart are complicated, trying… very difficult.”

“It sounds like there might be a story there,” she said with a teasing smile.

He could not tell her, would not, but for a brief moment, he did consider it. Why bother? It was trying to move on as it was, and he was already having difficulty doing so. Talking about it would not help, and of all people, why should he tell her?

For once, though, conversation with her did not feel forced or awkward. This was the first occasion in which they were talking about a serious matter. Love, of all things. How pleased their mothers would be.

Truthfully, he wished for Lady Anna to become a friend, even if she might not ever be anything more to him. He had such few friends in the world. It was both amazing and devastating that a tragedy could cause one to learn how few of one’s friends were truly friends at all.

But friendship required trust. Could he begin to trust others again? Dare he trust Lady Anna?

A sudden gust of wind blew a few papers free from Lady Anna’s hand. Laughing, they chased each one down, and when they captured them all, Jasper held out a hand to secure them for her. They stood far too close together—their chaperone seemed to be missing—and he stared down at her. He could not understand why she hid away from gatherings like he did. If she went to all the balls and gatherings, she would be betrothed herself. She was a fine, beautiful lady and…