But.
Goldie swallowed hard. He had first come to her father’s house looking for Nia. When she’d refused to give him her sister’s location, he’d gone away looking defeated.
It had not been until the next day that he’d shown any interest in Goldie.
She read through the article again, hating the way it made her feel.
“I want you,” Reed had said. She’d stupidly believed that she had been his first choice.
Her hand began shaking as the truth washed over her. She had been her husband’s second choice.
With Nia away, she had been his only choice. Of course he’d not wanted any other debutante! That would hardly make as good a story as marrying the Duke of Crossings’ daughter—or one of them, anyhow.
She shook her head, confused. He hadn’t exactly lied to her, but he’d kissed her. And… more.
She’d told him she loved him!
A wave of humiliation crashed over her. But of course! He’d wanted Nia first. She’d been a fool to imagine otherwise—blinded by her own infatuation.
The door creaked, and Goldie dragged her gaze across the room to see Reed peering inside, looking disheveled and windblown, but no less devastatingly handsome than he had the night before.
“You’re awake.” His devilish smile would have swept her doubts away if they weren’t so very, very heavy. Something in her expression made him pause and look her over more thoroughly. “Is something wrong?” He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “I’m a monster. Three times! What the devil was I thinking? Are you sore, Sunshine?”
In answer, Goldie held up the paper.
“It says you married Nia.” She felt dead inside. She’d been so certain she’d done the right thing.
Reed stilled. “But I married you.”
“You wanted Nia first, didn’t you?” Goldie almost kept her voice from breaking. She didn’t want to cry right now. She wanted answers. “Just, please, tell me the truth.” She could hardly look at him. His lie by omission hurt terribly.
The knowledge that she was nothing more than a consolation, a second choice, brought with it a far too familiar pain. It had been bad enough to come second with her parents, being her husband’s second choice was even worse. The thought stabbed her.
Reed exhaled and then ran a hand through his hair. “They wanted the story to be about your sister, yes.”
Silence filled the room, and then Goldie heard him moving two chairs together. “Let me explain, please. Here, sit down.”
Goldie grudgingly allowed him to steer her to the chair and then lowered herself onto it. “One of the maids is bringing tea,” he said. “And I brought you these.” A small, brown paper-wrapped bundle appeared in her line of sight.
She didn’t look up, watching instead as his elegant hands unfolded the paper. Before she saw them, the aroma filled her nostrils.
Which confused her further. “Pastries?”
“I went to the carnival this morning. The Boulangère hadn’t opened yet, but I persuaded Miss Mildred to sell me a few fresh out of her ovens.”
He had gone all the way to the carnival this morning to purchase a few pastries?
For her?
“That wasn’t necessary.” She didn’t want to place more meaning on the gesture than he intended.
Reed sat the pastries on a nearby table and then took the other chair, the one he’d placed directly in front of her. “I can explain.”
Words that didn’t hold all that much promise in her experience.
He gently worked the newspaper out of her lifeless fingers and skimmed the contents of the article. When he got to the part about her sister, he uttered a curse, low, but not so low that she couldn’t make it out.
Only then did he speak again. “Idiots got the name wrong,” he muttered. And then, “Goldie, look at me, please?”
