Glory and her maid arrived at the Hadleighs’ on time. As Elsie departed below stairs for a cup of tea, Glory was greeted in the antechamber by Livy, the duke, and their daughter Esmerelda. All three were dressed to go out, the tot looking adorable in a bonnet and embroidered velvet jacket that matched Livy’s. Seeing her friend with husband and child, Glory felt a pulse of longing she’d never felt before.
“Aunt Glo-wee!” Esme said, her brunette curls bouncing.
“Hello, dear.” Glory crouched to give her a hug. “How is my favorite two-year-old?”
“Ouch,” Esme announced, pointing at her mouth. “In here.”
“The poor dear is getting the last of her teeth in,” Livy said. “But Papa is our hero and taking her for ices to help the ouch.”
“Papa hero,” Esme agreed, holding her arms up to Hadleigh.
“Off we go, poppet,” he said.
The duke scooped her up, swinging her in the air as she giggled. He paused to kiss Livy, murmuring, “Be careful, little queen,” before striding off.
“I am shadowing Bryant today,” Livy said, pulling on her gloves. “Which means you and Mr. Chen will have privacy. He is waiting in the library, and I’ve instructed the servants not to disturb you.”
“Thank you,” Glory said gratefully. “And good luck.”
“You too, my dear.” With a wink, Livy hurried off.
Glory went to the library.
The high-ceilinged room was bright with golden light, the shelves of books and plump velvet chairs adding to the cozy ambiance. Standing by one of the tall windows, Wei turned at her arrival, and her heart pitter-pattered beneath the bodice of her lilac carriage dress. The sunlight gilded his noble features; he was so handsome and virile she could scarcely believe that he desired her. That, last night, he had called her “mine.”
In that moment, she didn’t care about the differences that separated them. What she wouldn’t give to belong to him. For him to belong to her.
They met each other halfway. Her chest tightened at Wei’s grave expression. Instead of kissing her as she hoped he would do, he gave her a restrained bow. She curtsied awkwardly in return.
“Thank you for meeting me today.”
His formality chilled her.
“I…it was no problem,” she said falteringly. “We have much to discuss.”
“Yes, we do. Shall we sit?”
They arranged themselves on a divan by the fire. As she fiddled with her skirts, willing herself to voice the questions burning in her head—Do you still want me? Has something changed?—he spoke first.
“I must beg your forgiveness for my behavior last night,” he said calmly. “We ought to have had this discussion then instead of…of doing what we did.”
His apology irked her. Suddenly, she was tired of the back and forth. Pippa was right: not knowing what he wanted might be worse than the truth.
“I liked what we did,” she said. “I thought…I thought you liked it too.”
She’d meant to sound bold, but the quaver in her voice betrayed her. Feeling her eyes heat, she looked down at her lap, willing herself not to cry.
Wei tipped her chin up. “I did like it. Too much, little tigress.”
The passionate flare in his eyes relieved her. Told her he was being truthful.
“But I should not have made love to you again without telling you about my past. About things that will change how you feel about me…about us.”
“My feelings for you could never change,” she said with conviction.
“We shall see.” A wistful look visited his gaze before he took a breath. “I told you that I must avenge my kin, but I did not tell you the full story. You see, their murder was not a random act but a calculated one.”
As she absorbed the shocking fact, he added another.
