The words hung between them like a confession neither had expected. Hugo’s expression showed surprise at his own admission, but he didn’t take it back.
He needs me. Not for his daughters, not for his household, but for himself.
“Hugo,” she started, but he held up a hand to stop her.
“I need you,” he said again, his voice rough with emotion. “Which means you will not take reckless chances with your safety. You will not enter buildings full of sick children without proper precautions. You will not administer any treatments, no matter how mild, without a qualified physician.”
“And if the qualified physicians are unavailable?” she asked. “If children are suffering and I have the knowledge to help them?”
“Then you send for me,” Hugo said firmly. “You don’t act alone.”
“I can accept that,” she said slowly. “In principle.”
“In principle?”
“In principle, collaboration is preferable. In practice, it’s not always possible. Sometimes situations arise that require immediate action, regardless of whether backup is available.”
Hugo’s expression grew stern again. “And in those situations?”
“In those situations, I’ll use my best judgment based on the knowledge and experience I have.”
“No.” The word came out sharp and final.
What?
“I will not promise to abandon people who need help,” she said firmly. “I will not agree to stand by helplessly when I have the knowledge and ability to assist.”
“Then we have a problem,” Hugo said grimly.
“Yes,” she agreed, meeting his gaze directly. “We do.”
They stared at each other in the narrow corridor, both breathing hard from the intensity of their argument. The air between themcrackled with tension—anger and frustration and something else, something that made Sybil’s pulse race and her skin burn despite the harsh words they’d exchanged.
He’s afraid for me. Genuinely, desperately afraid for my safety.
The realization should have softened her anger, should have made her more willing to compromise. Instead, it only strengthened her resolve.
I won’t be controlled by anyone’s fears, no matter how well-intentioned.
Chapter Twenty
The carriage wheel hit a particularly vicious rut, jolting Sybil against the padded seat with enough force to rattle her teeth.
She didn’t so much as glance at Hugo, who sat across from her in stony silence, his amber eyes fixed on the passing countryside with the determined concentration of a man avoiding conversation at all costs. The rigid set of his shoulders and the way his jaw clenched every time she shifted in her seat told her everything she needed to know about his mood.
Good. Let him sulk.
Three days of this arctic politeness, three days of speaking only when necessary, three days of pretending the other didn’t exist while trapped in the same carriage. It would have been almost amusing if it weren’t so infuriating.
He moved up our departure specifically to get me away from any ‘dangerous situations.’ As if I were some wayward child who needed to be managed.
The worst part was that he hadn’t even bothered to lie about it. When she’d questioned the sudden change in plans, he’d simply informed her that circumstances required an earlier return to London. When she’d pressed for specifics, he’d given her a look that could have frozen hellfire and declared that the matter was not open for discussion.
Arrogant, controlling, impossible man.
“Are you quite certain you’re comfortable, Sybil?” Rosalie asked from her seat beside Hugo, her voice carefully neutral. “You’ve been rather… quiet during the journey.”
Quiet. Such a diplomatic way to describe the deafening silence that’s characterized this trip.
