escort you to your carriage.”
She didn’t say a word in reply, just kept her narrowed gaze on him as he left the room, closing the door gently behind him.
And then he heard it. A crash, as though something made of glass had been smashed on the floor.
Chapter Ten
Ana Maria stared at the broken shards of glass on the floor, unnerved by her own violence.
Although there was something exhilarating about acting on impulse. Though acting on impulse had gotten her to kiss him, which was both the best and the worst idea ever, so perhaps it was not only exhilarating but also incredibly foolish.
And she did not want Bertha to have to clean it up.
That was the problem with impulsive acts: one always had to clean them up after, whether it was broken glass or a spontaneous kiss.
She stepped carefully over the mess, going to the side of the room where the bellpull was. Before she could ring it, however, the door swung open and Nash’s butler—Richardson?—appeared, glancing between her and the floor, his expression remaining completely neutral.
“I will send someone to clean that up, my lady,” he said. “If you will follow me, I will take you to your carriage.”
“I don’t want anyone else to clean—” she began, but stopped as Richardson raised a dark eyebrow. She was skilled in the vernacular of upper servant, so his raised eyebrow was as close to dismissal as she could possibly get.
“Never mind,” she conceded, reaching into her pocket for a coin. “Please give this to Bertha. I presume she’ll be the one cleaning. It is entirely my fault.”
He nodded, tucking the coin into his waistcoat. “This way, my lady.”
Once ensconced in the carriage, Ana Maria leaned back against the seat cushions, blowing out an exasperated breath. Why did he have to be such a horrified lummox about it? It was just a kiss, after all.
She’d assumed he was like Sebastian, at least before Sebastian had met and married Ivy; cavalierly dashing about being charming to all sorts of ladies, all of whom knew he wasn’t serious about any of them.
But Nash was as far from a dashing cavalier as she was from being a hardened flirt, so it likely made sense.
More drat.
She had been angry with him, but now she was just . . . deflated. Her glorious act of independence had actually hurt someone. Him. The last person she wished to hurt.
He’d been hurt in his life so much. Not recently, of course; he seemed to be the one hurting others now, others who (in Nash’s view) deserved the hurting.
But back then, when he’d first started coming to the house, he’d been a thin, awkward boy with too dark eyes and a haunted expression. She’d only seen the late duke once, but he had appeared to be a cruel man, one who reveled in castigating servants and his son alike.
And from what Sebastian had let slip, the duke had actually and literally hurt Nash. That explained why he was so quick to hit people himself, although she had to wonder if that made him feel worse because that made him similar to his father, or if he was preventing himself from being treated like his father in the first place.
Just thinking about that sad, lonely boy made her heart hurt.
And she had kissed the adult version of that sad, lonely boy. Was he still sad? She couldn’t tell. He seemed relatively pleased with his life, although it was clear he didn’t precisely enjoy being an aristocrat, what with his dislike of social events and conventional neckwear.
Was he lonely?
He had Sebastian and Thaddeus as friends, but the former was busy with his new life as a nobody, while the latter was busy with his new life as a duke.
He had Finan, of course. And all of his servants who were also his half siblings. But did he confide in any of those people?
It had felt, that night on the terrace, as though he were confiding in her. She could be his friend. And not a friend whom he also kissed, since clearly that concerned him.
She’d have to ensure she kept her distance while also being close enough to him to invite confidences.
Walking that oxymoronic line, as usual, she thought to herself with a wry chuckle.
He’d stalked up to his bedroom, intent on finding a shirt, and startled one of his younger half sisters who was also a maid into a shriek, causing another one to laugh uncontrollably.
He wasn’t certain which reaction he