But now?—
In the space of a single encounter, his identity had been laid bare. And not just his title—the fact that he’d been married.
A bead of sweat slid down his temple, another down his spine, though the afternoon sun wasn’t to blame.
Once he stepped beneath the dense canopy of trees, the park grew quieter, the bright hum of the street falling away. He slowed, listening.
From somewhere beyond a wide-branching evergreen came the muffled sound of sobs.
His heart dropped, suddenly terribly certain that he’d found her.
Dash moved off the path to peer behind the tree and stopped short.
The woman he had trailed earlier was gone. In her place stood his broken princesse—her face hidden in her hands, her brow pressed to the rough bark of a great oak, her shoulders trembling with the force of her grief.
The sight struck him harder than any blow ever had. He had done this. He had reduced her to this.
“Ambrosia,” he said softly. He would have given anything to comfort her, take her into his arms, to feel her lean against him the way she once had. But he couldn’t. She wouldn’t. To her now, he was no longer the man she had trusted, but a stranger. Worse still, a bitter memory.
He had known this would be hard, but he had not reckoned on this—evidence of her grief. Whatever weapons he possessed—wit, charm, bravado—they felt suddenly small in the face of such sorrow. The task before him stretched larger, darker, than he had let himself believe.
Impossible, even.
Before he could find another word, she whirled around, her eyes bright with fury and tears.
“Stay away from me!”
Dash stayed rooted to the spot, afraid that if he took even one step closer she might bolt.
“I wanted to talk to you,” he said in a cautious voice. “I needed to tell you… things.”
She shook her head, hard. “You are a bloody duke? You did not think to tell me that? And you were married?” Her voice caught, edged with disbelief. “Why are you here? Were you… following me? And why… why now?
Her pain cut sharper than any blade.
“Do you not know how hard it has been for me to forget you?” she went on, tears streaking her cheeks. “Do you not realize how difficult it has been for me to move on with my life?”
The sight wrenched at him.
He wished he’d actually prepared for this moment, rehearsed or—or something. Maybe if he had, he’d be ready now with the words that might keep her from hating him, instead of floundering like a useless cad.
All that time spent stalling, and he had nothing to show for it.
His mind churned, scrambling for anything he could say that wouldn’t make this worse.
He drew a slow breath. “I wanted to come and talk with you,” he said at last. “But not like this. I didn’t want to hurt you—not any more than I already have. I simply wanted to… see you.”
Her eyes widened, sharp with disbelief. “Have you been watching me? For how long?”
Dash hesitated. That was not the part of that he’d wanted her to latch onto. “Please, princesse, just listen to me.”
He stepped forward, and she moved to skirt past him—a quick, controlled sidestep that spoke of a woman more self-possessed than the girl he’d known. But when he caught her shoulders, she stiffened, the poise breaking beneath the strain. He’d wanted to touch her again for so long, but not like this. Never like this.
“Don’t call me that!” Her voice caught on the words, the sob she tried to swallow betraying her composure. “You promised you wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye! You promised me. And then after… after—” Her lip wobbled, and she turned from him. “Let go of me!”
She didn’t have the strength to push him away, though she tried, her trembling making him ache with guilt.
Still, he didn’t release her. Not yet. For all his easy charm, when Dash set his mind to something, he got it—and right now, that meant keeping her here long enough to listen.
