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It began innocently enough—a stray comment over breakfast, some harmless sparring that neither of them could resist.
But then Anthony’s voice sharpened, his expression hardening as he challenged Miss Sharma, dismissing the notion of love as frivolous. The table grew quiet, there was no one save for Benedict, Eloise and the tension simmering between him and Miss Sharma.
“Is that truly what you believe, my lord?” Miss Sharma asked, her tone deceptively calm, her eyes piercing his. “That love is simply a nuisance to be avoided?”
Anthony met her gaze, his jaw tight. “It is a distraction. A foolish one at that.” He spared a quick glance at his siblings, sitting wide-eyed and silent. “Some of us do not have the luxury of indulging in such sentiment.”
Her posture stiffened, hands clenched under the table. “It must be quite a miserable existence,” she replied coolly, “living life so devoid of feeling, with nothing but duty to fill the empty spaces.”
Anthony’s fists balled under the table, her words striking with an uncanny precision that unsettled him. Her unwavering stare held him captive, but it also dared him to respond.
“Duty, Miss Sharma,” he said, his voice dangerously low, “is what keeps the world from descending into chaos. It is what holds a family together when everything else falls apart.”
Her gaze softened, almost imperceptibly, and for a moment he thought he saw pity there—a look he couldn’t bear. She opened her mouth to reply, but then closed it, pressing her lips into a thin line as though restraining herself.
“If you truly believe that,” she whispered, barely audible, “then I pity you, my lord. For a life without love is no life at all.”
And before he could respond, she rose from the table, excusing herself with quiet grace, leaving Anthony to stare after her, his heart pounding with a mix of anger and something he couldn’t name.