And she couldn’t stop the gasp of protest when he lifted the letter and dangled it in front of him.
She had no right to expect him to honor her wishes, and so as she stood there watching him, she braced herself.
“You’ve no need to worry on that account,” he said. The smile he sent her wasn’t a smile at all. It was cold and twisted and dark.
And when he moved, Priscilla gasped a second time. This time, from shock, and more… pain.
If that was even possible.
Because rather than open the seal, he tore the letter in half. And then tore those two pieces in half. And then again.
When it was unrecognizable aside from the broken lines where she’d written, he turned his back on her and tossed the pieces into the waste bin.
No doubt they would have ended up in the hearth if a fire had been burning there.
He was never going to forgive her. Furthermore, he seemed impatient for her to leave.
Chloe would be wondering what was keeping her. And yet she couldn’t move.
Not yet.
“Emerson.” She stepped toward him without thinking, and he glanced over his shoulder.
She reached her hand out to him, and for too brief of an instant, something other than anger glimmered in the back of his eyes.
For a flash, she felt that connection she’d been unable to resist before, the pull, the rightness—the knowing.
But before she could say another word, he’d lurched forward and grasped the tops of her arms.
“I don’t believe I’ve given you permission to address me as such, Miss Fellowes.” His jaw ticked, and her arms hurt beneath his hands. She’d made him so very, very angry. “Priscilla,” he bit out.
How many times had she wished he could call her by her real name? But not like this.
Never like this.
“You have no idea what you’ve done.” He dragged her against him, so close she could taste his breath.
“I’m sorry.” She shook her head. Never in her life had she felt the inadequacy of those words.
His fingers tightened on her arms and, remembering what he’d told her about his father, she knew she should be afraid.
But she feared nothing so much as she feared the future.
She stared up at him. Waiting. Lips parted.
“Damn you.”
Priscilla lacked any will to resist his kiss.
Even if it was only a punishment. His cold gaze flicked to her mouth and she prepared herself. His teeth would bite into her lips, and his tongue would spar with hers. But when she moved to slide her hands up his chest, he shoved her away.
“Get out of my sight.”
He turned away and strode across the room to stare out the window. There was only darkness outside. The blackest moment, just before dawn.
“Goodbye, Emerson.” She didn’t bother waiting for an answer and exited quietly.
Chloe’s sympathetic gaze was nearly too much to endure as she climbed into the carriage. There had not been one more kiss. He’d been disgusted by her.
