Free What You Propose (Anything for Love #2) by Adele Clee Page A

hardly a guest," Anna chuckled. "Mr. Danbury has me digging the flower beds until my hands are blistered and sore. I'm sure he won't mind me cutting a slice of bread."
    Selene tutted, sighed and turned back to her dough. "Very well. But you must be quick."
    Feeling as though she was intruding, Anna hurried about cutting the bread, eager to leave the kitchen. She wondered if Selene knew of her life back in London. Perhaps the woman disapproved of how she'd made her living and used her inexperience with the language to hide her disdain.
    If Anna continued to feel uncomfortable in her presence, she would broach the subject.
    After eating her breakfast and finishing her chores, she washed her hands and headed out into the garth. She longed to sit and feel the warm rays of the sun touch her cheeks and treasured the hour she spent there every day.
    Anna's cheerful smile faded when she spotted Tristan slumped forward on her favourite bench, his head buried in his hands.
    "Tristan." She approached with hesitant feet. "Are you well?"
    He glanced up, a mop of golden hair hindering his vision. "No, Anna, I am not well at all," he said in a tone as solemn as his countenance.
    "Can I get you anything? A tonic, or something cold to drink?"
    "There is no cure for what ails me," he replied cryptically.
    Anna had never seen him look so distraught. "May I sit or would you prefer I left you alone?"
    Tristan straightened, brushed his hair from his brow and shuffled further along the bench. "Please sit. Perhaps you will be able to offer words of encouragement, know of a way to soothe my wounds."
    "I do not wish to pry." She sat at his side. "But you know you may speak freely to me. You know I would never break a confidence."
    "You have been a good friend to me these last weeks, and I am grateful for it. Marcus will need a friend too. Promise me you will take supper with him, that you'll keep him company."
    Anna snorted. "You make it sound as though you're leaving."
    The drawn-out silence gave weight to her flippant comment.
    Tristan swallowed visibly. "I must return to London as a matter of urgency." In a sudden outburst, he jumped up from the bench and swiped the air with his clenched fist. "Damn it all. I vowed never to return. It's all a bloody mess." He glanced at her with sad eyes. "Forgive my rants and curses. But you don't know what this means."
    Struggling to follow his train of thought, Anna reached up and grasped his elbow. "Sit down, Tristan." She spoke softly. "Sit down and tell me what troubles you. Tell me what's so awful about going home."
    With a heavy sigh, he dropped back into the wooden seat. "It's Isabella," he said, shaking his head, his eyes wide in disbelief.
    Anna threaded her arm through his and hugged it. "Is she your sister, a friend or something more?"
    "Some would say she is all of those things." He gazed up at the cloudless sky and sighed wearily. "As far as my father was concerned, she was a sister. But I have never seen her as such. She became his ward after losing her parents. And I have loved her for as long as I can remember."
    Love existed in varying degrees and depths.
    "When you say love, do you mean you love her as a man would a woman?" Anna clarified.
    Tristan nodded. "She has claimed my heart and soul. She should have been my wife, but my father forbade it. Now, she is married to another, and I swore I would rather die than bear witness to her betrayal."
    Anna's heart went out to him. She would rather live in ignorance than be denied true love. What could be life's greatest gift could also be a tragic burden.
    Tristan turned to face her. "Have you ever been in love?"
    The question shocked her. For some bizarre reason, an image of Mr. Danbury flashed into her mind, and she quickly dismissed it.
    "Good heavens, no. No, I have never been in love," she said. "I am far too cynical and have witnessed the true depth of a lover's betrayal." Most of the gentlemen who frequented Labelles were married. Indeed, she