Pippa went over, taking the note from the silver salver. Her hands trembled as she unfolded it and read the words.
Please convey my apologies. I won’t be coming tonight. I will be in touch when I can.-Cullen
She read the note again. It didn’t take long. Three lines…that was all he thought she merited?
Her disbelief morphed into rage.
Mama came up to her, murmuring, “Is everything all right, my darling?”
Aware of the eyes on her, Pippa tamped down her fury. She fixed a smile on her face and said the words she’d been forced to say so many times before.
“Perfectly, Mama,” she said. “My guest sends his regrets, so we mustn’t wait on him. Let us go in for supper.”
37
Cull was not surprised when one of the larks informed him of Pippa’s arrival. He’d had her followed for her protection. Yet he had not expected her to come here straight from her mama’s party. After his rudeness to her family, he hadn’t known if she would want to see him…and the truth was, he didn’t want her here. He wasn’t fit for company. Wasn’t fit…for anything.
Pain twisted his gut. He could still feel Fanny’s blood on his hands. Still see the anguish in Grier’s eyes. Even though the physician had said that Fanny would survive, she’d had a hole punched through her because of Cull. Because of his arrogance and stupidity. Because he’d thought he could play with fire and not get burned.
He should have anticipated that Squibb would seek revenge. That the bastard would do it in the most cowardly of ways, a sneak attack in the dark. Now Squibb was dead. Cull had killed him, which was what he should have done from the start. But he hadn’t, and now Fanny was fighting for her life—after she’d fought so bloody long and hard already—because of his failure.
Another failure to add to the tally. Another person he loved and failed to protect.
The marks between his shoulder blades burned; the starless night pressed down on him.
He couldn’t—wouldn’t—let his darkness touch Pippa. He’d rip his heart out before he let that happen. She belonged in the light…and because he loved her, he had to let her go.
The door to the glasshouse opened, and Pippa swept in, looking like a princess in a silvery gown. Her expression was stormy, but her beauty shone through. He’d never met her equal and never would. And he refused to be the one to snuff out her brightness.
“You owe me an explanation,” she said into the stillness.
The glasshouse was quiet because he’d let the birds go. It had been time.
Itwastime.
“Something came up.” He flashed to Fanny lying in a pool of blood; Patrick, lifeless beneath the smoking rubble; all the mudlarks lost during Cull’s watch. Maisie’s blood on the sheets and tears of shame in her eyes.
His throat tight, he said, “It’s the nature of my life, Pippa. Something willalwayscome up.”
“What happened, Cull?” Pippa stared at him. “Why are you acting this way?”
“I am not putting on an act. That is what I’m telling you. Thisisme: I’m the Prince of Larks.” He clenched his jaw. “It’s when I am with you that I’m not myself. When I forget my duties, the responsibilities that come with the job.”
That wasn’t a lie. Being with her distracted him, although he didn’t blame her for it. He blamed himself: if he’d been paying closer attention to Squibb, Fanny wouldn’t have been shot. And what if Pippa had been there beside him? What if he had to inkheronto his back? God, he would rather take a knife there instead.
Time and again, he’d fought to balance his duties with his personal wants and desires…and each time he failed, hurting someone important in the process. He couldn’t be the Prince of Larksanda brother, friend, or lover. Couldn’t escape the curse of solitude. That much was written in the stars.
When am I going to learn?he raged at himself.
“Youare angry atme?” Wrath blazed in Pippa’s eyes. “After you showed my family utter disrespect—after you humiliated me in front of them and their closest friends?”
“It would have been worse if I had shown up. I don’t belong in that world, Pippa. Any more than you belong in mine,” he said flatly.
Several heartbeats passed.
“So that’s it?” Her words were cold, free of inflection. “The talk of sharing our lives, accepting one another as we are, love…was just that. Talk. Meaningless words?”
Cull balled his hands. Wanting so desperately to hold her. Knowing he couldn’t.
