Delilah felt suddenly winded.
This wasn’t a proposal of marriage.
It was more of an opportunity.
This piece of paper represented his terms if she wanted to be with him.
If, somehow, she found a way to reverse course and run…
Toward him.
“Delilah, when you decide to marry me, it will be your idea.”
In the moment, she’d let the words glance off her as his usual arrogance talking. But now, they sank in and found purchase as more of his words came to her.
“If I ever do, you’ll know why.”
Tonight’s masquerade…
It was for her.
She shot to her feet, filled with sudden determination. First, she was going to peel off this dress and toss it into the fireplace. It would never be free of her unwashed stench. Better to put it out of its misery.
Then she would give herself a good, cleansing scrub.
Then she would put on her mask—the one she’d been saving for a few years now.
She had a masquerade to attend.
And a future to claim.
She was done running away.
She was now runningtoward.
He’d better be ready.
But, first, she must wash her hair.
Chapter Fourteen
Sebastian mingled throughthe crowd in his usual evening blacks. Only tonight he also wore a black silk domino.
He tried not to feel silly.
Of course, the mask didn’t prevent anyone from recognizing the towering Duke of Ravensworth. Usually, the only people at any giventonevent who could match his height were the Windermeres. But they hadn’t yet arrived, which left him to the task of attentive host.
Really, he cared not if all or even a few of the Windermeres showed their—masked—faces tonight.
It was only the one who mattered.
And she wasn’t here.
He knew it without looking. The chemical composition of the room would’ve altered if she’d entered it.
He snorted. He’d vowed to make Delilah come to him. And yet he’d thrown a masquerade ball—obviously, for her. Further, he’d sent her the special license he’d procured. He wanted her to know where he stood. But, most importantly, he wanted her to know where she stood in relation to where he stood.
There was no middle ground.
