“You’ll answer? Just like that?”
“I have nothing to hide.” Her eyes widened inexplicably at that. What did she think I was hiding?
“You grew up with Gabriel?”
“Unfortunately.” She made a go-on gesture between bites. “My father was His Grace’s steward. We played occasionally, when he was in Yorkshire.”
“His father funded your schooling?”
“This might be easier if you tell me what you already know.”
“I’m searching for discrepancies in your story.”
Perfect, now I was expected to match my story to the great bull calf’s.
“I don’t remember when we met, probably too young. Unlike Rycliffe, I was studious. And polite. And decent. His father took notice, decided to fund my education. Less out of fondness for me than a desire to shame his son into becoming a contributing member of society, I expect. Anyone who had met Rycliffe could have told His Grace that it would have the opposite effect. They would have been right.”
“Tell me about Adriane.”
Adriane. I hadn’t heard that name outside of my mind in years. I braced myself for the instinctive pang in my chest, but it never appeared.
“Adriane was… everything. It was more than love, it was… obsession at first sight. Just—I couldfeelher whenever she was near. I was so aware of her. Always. And I was not subtle in my interest. I wrote too many bloody poems before she had the heart to inform me that it was not a strength of mine. I bought her flowers. I did all of it.
“She was just so—not even beautiful, exactly—but magnetic. Bewitchingly beautiful too, of course, but she just drew you in and once she had you, there was no escape. I didn’t want to escape either.”
“I know it, that feeling.” Her voice was tentative, small, hollow. Gabriel.
“She wasn’t interested in me. Only had eyes for Rycliffe. But it amused her to toy with me. Particularly around him.” She was still watching, listening attentively. I had never once concerned myself with disparaging Rycliffe to all and sundry, but to her?
“He told me the worst of it. If you’d like to skip over that part.”
She could not possibly know the full truth of the matter. No one could know what he had done to Adriane and still have married the man.
“He discussed it with you?”
“Well, I did not request details, but yes.”
“What did he tell you?” I leaned forward, the effort to control my burning fury leaving me uneasy. I glanced away, searching for something, anything to lessen the tension.
“He was different. When I met him. We— He rejected me because he refused to be with an innocent. He regretted it—what he did to her.”
My stomach turned viciously. This was the woman I had worshiped with my hands and lips days ago. She sat before me now attempting to justify what that monster had done to my Adriane.
“Oh, well if he regretted it, then it’s all fine. Her life wasn’t destroyed. She didn’t die sick and in pain.”
“I didn’t… That is not what I meant.”
“People don’t change. Not that much. And some things are unforgivable. To think, I had convinced myself… I felt sorry for you! I thought perhaps he had seduced you and someone had to drag him down the aisle at the end of a pistol. Or perhaps you didn't know. But to think, you knew what he was from the beginning, and you married him anyway. You are as bad as he was.”
“I—”
“I think you should go.” I rose, reaching my office door in two harsh steps, ripping it open with enough force to test the hinges. “You can have the umbrella. Whatever reason you have for following me, it ends now. You are clearly not intending to force me to wed you. And frankly, I would rather meet Rosehill at dawn than marry you.”
She stood slowly and turned to me, then dropped the blanket on the chair before stepping toward me. “You thought… You thought I wanted tomarryyou? There is not a man on this earth I would rather marry less than you! I loathe you. You disgust me.” Her venomed verbiage was delivered at a whisper, but it echoed as though she had screamed it.
“Wonderful. Now that is cleared up, glad you could stop by.” With a wordless grunt of frustration she stomped through the office, wet slippers squelching with every step. She grabbed the umbrella and threw the door open with as much force as her tiny form could muster, the bell clanging its irritation at her abrupt manner.
The clerks, who had been staring with interest, immediately dropped their attention back to their paperwork, feigning ignorance. My return to my desk was less satisfying with nothing to slam or stamp. I collapsed in my chair, dragging fingers through my hair, breathing too heavily.
