She blanched, and he immediately regretted his words. Still, better she knew now. Better he take what remained of her lovefor this man—one that had never existed outside her mind—and squashed it. And if he condemned any chance he had of winning her back, then so be it. The chance of that had never been high in the first place; that was not why he had attempted to distance himself from her.
“Let me be plain, Cecily, seeing as you have been labouring under a misapprehension over the course of our time together. William Devereaux had no intentions of marrying you. He would have ruined you as he has ruined many other young ladies, and your chances of a good marriage would have been materially diminished. If you had loved him and he intended to do the honourable thing, I would never have interfered, believe me. I’m not as cruel as you believe me to be. But he has never loved you, my songbird. And he certainly would never have married you.”
“I—” Cecily shook her head. “You can’t know that.”
He dragged his hands through his hair, head throbbing and his stomach turning. “Of course I know that. It’s hardly a secret what William Devereaux is. There’s a reason no mother worth her salt will allow him access to her daughters. He’s barred from every reputable club, and I doubt he will secure many invitations now he’s returned to London.” He waited for the shock to cross her face at that particular revelation, but as she just looked at him with wide eyes, he snorted. “No doubt you also knew that, too. Have you met him since his return? Has he renewed his addresses?”
She swallowed, all the confirmation he could have needed. Abruptly tired and in need of more coffee, he sank back into his seat. “No matter. I tried to save you once, and it made a fool of me.” He massaged his temples. “What would you like to say to your mother?”
Her gaze fell to the letter still in her hands, then up at him. Her eyes were wet, and he sighed at the knowledge he had likely broken her heart with another man’s betrayal.
“I’m sorry,” he said, more gently this time, and picked up her hand, pressing it to his lips in a chaste kiss. “I should not have lost my temper with you.”
“No, I . . .” Her voice came out scratchy and weak. “Is that truly what you believe? That he cared nothing for me?”
Though this realisation was one he’d been hoping she would come to for four years now, he took no pleasure in his answer. “No more than his other conquests. If I thought he had honest intentions, I would have allowed matters to play out as they would.” He released her hand. “Do you believe me?”
She released a shaky breath. “I don’t know. I wish . . .”Things had been different, he could almost hear her say.
“As do I,” he said heavily, and turned his attention back to his breakfast. “Thank you for the coffee, Cecily. It’s much appreciated. If you need me to help draft a letter to your mother, you may find me at any time.”
Understanding the dismissal, she rose, brushing out her skirts. After a hesitation, in which he was certain she would say something, she left him to his breakfast and the reflection that at least now, if she intended to take William as a lover, she would do so in the full knowledge of everything he was.
At first, Cecily had been determined to reject Percy’s assertion. After all, what would he know about the subject? But when she invited Arabella to join her for afternoon tea, she discovered confirmation in the worst of places: from her very best friend.
“Oh, of course he isn’t an honourable man,” Arabella said, swallowing a large mouthful of plum cake. “Dearest, do you truly think a man capable of flirting withsuchskill to be one who has never made a fool of a woman before?”
Cecily stared at her teacup. “Well, I did think he loved me.”
“If only we’d known each other better back then.” Arabella sighed. “Even I could have told you. Everyone knew he was a rake. Well, according to everything I’ve heard, he stillisa rake. I imagine he just wanted to kiss you. Or worse, of course, but your fatherwasa viscount, so perhaps he hadn’t intended to strip you of your virtue. Not while you were unmarried, at least.” She cut herself another slice of cake, oblivious to the way Cecily’s stomach twisted and dropped.
“Do you think he would have married me if we were discovered?” Cecily asked. “I mean—”
“Youwerediscovered. I thought you said Percy discovered you both.”
Cecily recalled the way Percy had taken William’s lapels, pulled him up, and delivered such a devastating blow that she feared William’s nose had broken. Certainly, there had been plenty of blood. And William, instead of swearing his honour, had fled.
Percy had been the one to guide her back to the house, apologising for the violence even as he wiped his bloodied knuckles and led her to a side door so she could rejoin the party and her mother. He had assured her that she would be all right, and she had been so shaken by the entire situation that she had—
Well, she had believed him, and her naïve heart had hoped that the form of ‘all right’ would be William declaring that he wished to marry her. Instead, Percy had been the one to come forward, and she’d been able to do nothing but accept with William gone.
For the first time, anger at William stirred in her chest.Hehad been the one to flee, the one to take her outside and kiss her and then say nothing about marriage. All this time, she had assumed that had theynotbeen discovered, he would have married her,but surely it should have been the other way around. Theyhadbeen discovered, and the honourable thing would have been to offer for her immediately.
“Heavens,” she said faintly. “I have been a fool.”
Arabella patted her hand sympathetically. “We are all fools at nineteen.”
“I am a foolnow. He invited me to the Pantheon for a masquerade.”
“Perhaps he thought he could seduce you,” Arabella said with a shrug. “I’ll admit, I thought you would be amenable to the idea. I never assumed that you . . .”
“I wanted tomarryhim!”
“Yes, well.” Her friend wrinkled her nose. “I didn’t think you had such appalling judgement, dearest.”
Cecily scowled. Four years of her life pining for a man who had never harboured honest intentions towards her. Four years of being furious at Percy for ruining her chances of happiness when he had, in fact, been attempting to save her.
How mortifying.
