And Edward cared for me. I didn’t doubt that—not with the regret and sorrow I saw in his gaze. But he did not love me. He couldn’t. Love did not accept bribes. Love did not pretend.
Margaret and Mr. Wilcot were perfect evidence of that.
Once again, I had failed to discern a man’s intentions. I could not trust Edward, but worse still, I could not trust myself. I had been right to put off the idea of marriage. Spinsterhood was all my future would hold because I could not trust myself to make wise decisions when it came to courtship. Love.
Which meant I could not be near the man who had already stolen my heart. My resolve would fold with one kiss—nay, one look.
“I do not wish to see you again,” I said meekly. “Once I’ve control of my dowry, we can discuss the money via letter.”
“Annette, please let me—”
“No.” I shook my head. “There is nothing more to say. Please excuse me.”
I ran from the room and did not stop until I had climbed the stairs and fled to my chamber. The door slammed closed behind me, and I threw myself onto my bed, sobs wrecking my body. I loved him, but he did not love me. Our time together had been littered with faux exchanges since our ruse in Town, but I never suspected the façade had continued. And my father instigated it all?
I sniffled. That fact drove the sting deeper. Anger still eluded me. Perhaps I would feel it when my heart had processed it all. For now, the pain dragged me down, my soul as brittle as thin ice on a frozen lake. How I wished for this cold hurt to deepen enough to numb my feelings.
“At least I discovered the truth before we wed,” I sobbed into my pillow.
What a poor consolation prize, indeed.
Chapter twenty-four
Edward
TheimageofAnnette’sretreating form lingered in my mind long after she disappeared. There seemed to be an invisible line tethering me to her, and the more space she put between us, the tighter it became. At some point, the line would snap completely, and I would never recover. My heart already felt ripped in two, and I hadn’t the faintest idea how to repair it.
Perhaps such a task was impossible. I would never forget the pain in Annette’s blue eyes. All this time, I had known it would hurt her to learn the truth, but I had expected more anger, more rage. Her acceptance and tears were far worse. I would have preferred her ire.
Ideservedher ire.
But it hadn’t come. Instead, she’d offered understanding, at least of my reason for accepting her father’s offer. She knew how much I needed the funds and what I would have done with them. Worse, she intended to still support my cause with her dowry because she believed in it.
Believed inme.
Even after I had betrayed her trust.
The mere idea of allowing her to be a benefactor stabbed with more force than any sword ever could. How could I allow it, knowing what torture it would be to have her in my life but never be able to see her? To touch her?
I’d been a fool to think that in turning down Lord Paxton, the entire situation would fade from existence. I should have told her the truth myself, despite the promise I made, although I did not know that the outcome would have been better.
My jaw clenched. I had to change her mind. Prove myself. Earning her trust had been difficult the first time, but I could not let her go without trying. Would learning that I had, only minutes before, rejected Lord Paxton’s offer make a difference? Would knowing that I wanted to court her without such stipulations hanging over us help her understand that I cared for her?
More than cared for her.
I stepped forward, but once again, my efforts were halted by Apsley’s hand pressing against my chest. His expression had softened since the start of our argument, but his eyes still held warning.
“My sister needs space,” he said. “I would advise you to give it to her.”
“Do you intend to have me thrown from the house?” I challenged.
“Not yet, although it was quite tempting a few minutes ago.” His hand fell away from me. “Do not make me regret not doing so.”
“Fine. I shall give Annette time to process everything, but I cannot promise to be patient about it. Whatever you may think of me, you are wrong about my motivation for accepting your father’s offer.”
Apsley crossed his arms. “I gathered as much, given Annette did not tear you apart as I expected. For her to be so understanding suggests your intentions were, at the root, good. Regardless of your reason, however, I will never condone your behavior. I intend to have a word with my father about it as well.”
“Go easy on him. With his health…” I sighed. “Rest your blame on me. I knew the whole of it was a bad idea, but I was desperate.Amdesperate. He made a convincing argument, and like a fool, I ignored my instinct.”
