Just silence.
Her chest ached. “Norman, I swear to you, this is not true.”
Still, he said nothing.
Lady Mulberry gave a soft, bitter laugh. “Well… I cannot say I am surprised. That one always seemed a bit too…unusual. Now at least my grandson can be free of this whole charade.”
Kitty flinched.
Free?She turned to Norman again, her eyes pleading.
“You know me. You know who I am. You know I…” Her voice cracked. “Say something.”
He exhaled. One long, slow breath.
“The wedding is postponed,” his voice, when he finally spoke, was honed to an arctic edge—each syllable sending frost creeping down Kitty’s spine.
Gasps rippled through the air. Jane stepped forward as if to protest, but Richard gently caught her arm.
Kitty felt the world tilt. The air grew too thin.
“What?” she whispered, more to herself than Norman.
Norman did not look at her. His gaze swept the onlookers instead. “You may all return to your homes. The festivities are over.”
It struck like a blow. Her legs nearly gave way beneath her. Only sheer force of will kept her upright.
The crowd began to murmur, hesitant, awkward. Servants led the horses away. Jane was trembling with rage. Cynthia wore an expression of tragic triumph.
Kitty couldn’t move.
She stared at Norman.
You didn’t defend me.
The thought echoed louder than the rest. Louder than Cynthia’s smug speech, than Mulberry’s icy disdain, louder than the panic screaming through her bones.
He had always been her shield, since the night they met. He had once told her she could always go to him, and he would protect her. But now, with one lie and a piece of forged paper, he had cast her aside.
She wanted to scream.
Instead, she turned.
Her boots scraped sharply against the gravel as she walked away, past the hedgerows and down toward the old rose gardens. Noone followed. The wind picked up, cold and stinging, like salt in an open wound.
Tears stung her eyes, but she would not let them fall.
Not yet.
She sat, fingers trembling in her lap.
How could he believe it? How couldheof all people think her capable of such immorality?
Was his trust so fragile? Or had he been looking for a reason to run?
The thought cut her deeper than she expected. Her chest rose and fell in short, shallow gasps.
He never told me what truly plagued him,she thought.He never let me help. And now, when I needed him most, he looked at me like I was a stranger.
