Once again, I nearly choke on bacon. My eyes dart to the two other figures in the room, but they’re two tables away and still very much engaged in conversation. “Could you not say things like that so loud?”
She shrugs. “But it’s true. I, on the other hand, had quite the weekend. Can you believe I had my very first threesome? It was actually quite awkward. I got bored quickly so David and Conrad just had sex with each other while I watched and ate chocolate, but it was still an experience. What about you, Daph?” She gives me a taunting grin. “When is the last time you let pussy out to play?”
My cheeks flood with heat, both from her scandalous words and because…because it has no longer been quite so long.
She must read the truth on my face. Her expression turns to shock and her voice takes on a serious edge. “Wait, when was the last time? When’s the last time pussy came out to play, Daphne?”
I speak in a furious whisper. “Lower your damn voice.” When she repeats the question in a true whisper, I say, “She, uh, came out to play over the weekend.”
She bounces in her seat and claps her gloved hands. “Wow! With whom?”
I try to keep the disappointment off my face when I answer, but I can’t help the quaver in my voice. “Monty.”
Her lips pull into a grimace. “That bad, eh?”
“No, it’s not that. It’s just…” I force away memories of our conversation in the cab, of the strange sorrow that fell over him when he hugged me outside the hotel, of the way my heart cracked open wide when we danced on tables. If I just focus on the non-emotional aspects, if I merely convince myself that what I said before the mirror remains true…
It doesn’t have to mean anything…
Right. It was just foreplay. Monty is just my friend who offered some pleasure. I may have gotten carried away, and perhaps he did too, but I won’t anymore. Not ever again.
Because I would rather be safe than risk everything. I would rather secure a husband than trust I’ll get the promotion I’ll need to get out of my handfasting otherwise. I would rather be paired with a sensible match who fulfills all my needs and requirements on a practical level than be hurt by someone I have feelings for.
It’s better to be safe than to be rejected.
You’re a monster. You may look like a lady, but you’re nothing more than a beast.
I take a deep breath and mask all my hidden emotions behind a smile. “It was incredible.”
Araminta hangs on to my every word as I relay what we did. As if it was nothing more than fleeting fun. As if it meant nothing. Then I show her Patrick Wright’s telegram and recite all the ways he’s right for me. All the reasons it makes sense for me to go on a date with him on Friday.
My heart crumples inside.
But at least it’s safe in my chest.
Where the words I never said to Monty can burn to ash.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
MONTY
Every day without Daphne feels like a punch to the chest.
It’s not like we’ve gone much longer than normal this week without seeing each other. In fact, ever since we reunited, we only saw each other on weekends. Maybe it’s that I know I won’t see her this weekend that makes me count each day like a prison sentence.
But I don’t dare see her. Not until she’s given Patrick a chance.
He deserves a chance. I fucking know he does. I trust Thorne was right about him, and when I take myself out of the equation, I can see that he is perfect for Daph. Maybe there’s no spark between them, but she wasn’t looking for one anyway. And my case study isn’t about uncovering some mystical connection no one else can see. It’s about following the rules of courtship to find an ideal match. Which Patrick is.
Unlike me.
I don’t deserve her.
I could never deserve her.
I’ll only hurt her, like I hurt everyone else.
I repeat this throughout the week, every time my unruly heart begs me to seek her out. To tell her I didn’t mean what I said, what I hinted at.
