“I should have done more,” he said. “Younevershould have been hurt in the first place.”
A tiny smile tilted her lips. Ellis was shocked to see it there, but in that moment this woman, this sheltered, upper-class woman, almost seemed like she knew more than he did about the world.
“Should, should, should…” she mused. “If we could have a farthing for every should, you wouldn’t have to play your games anymore. You’d be the richest man in London.”
“Ilikeplaying my games,” he said in what he hoped was a teasing tone. Right now he couldn’t quite control it.
She shrugged. “I suppose my point is that I can’t live in what should have happened. I have to live in what did. And youdidhelp me, Ellis. When you had me in your arms, right after I was slashed, do you remember what you said?”
He stared down at her. And he lied, because he knew if he told her he did remember that it would only create more confusion and pain for her in the future. “No.”
There was a flutter to her lips. “Well, you said something to me that comforted me. It might not have meant much to you, but it meant the world to me. So I thank you.”
Ellis shook his head in shock. This woman had every right to blame him for what had happened to her. He knew a part of herdidblame him. And yet she had enough grace to be able to see some good thing in him. Enough that she trusted him with her story, trusted him with the offer of her body.
He had never been that good a person or man. He’d learned early and hard to take a person at face value. To never look for deeper goodness once he had seen a hint of danger. It was part of survival.
And yet when he sat next to Juliana Shelley, stroking her hand in his, he felt shame for that dismissal. He felt small in it. He felt like he wanted to be…more.
He’d been a villain since he was ten. Running the streets, stealing what he needed, playing love games starting at fifteen. He’d told himself he could never be more.
And in this moment he wished he could. That there was change in his future like there had been in Rook’s. That he could somehow endeavor to one day deserve a woman who looked at him like Juliana was looking at him in this moment.
Except doing that would destroy her. Dragging through the mud with him, linking herself any deeper than she already had? She would sink in it, sink with him.
So if he wanted to be good, to be decent, he realized he had to be bad. He had to push her away to protect her. Not weakly like he had before, but truly. Before Winston Leonard got her back in his sights.
Before Handsome Ellis Maitland ate everything good and beautiful and decent in her and spit her out a shell of what she’d once been.
Even if it broke his heart, that cold, black thing he’d once thought didn’t exist…he had to do it. Now.
Ellis tugged his hand away from Juliana’s and eased himself back on the carriage seat across from her. She felt the change in him. The rig felt colder as he looked at her with a gaze that held…nothing. Not even a hint of anything at all.
“Well, I’m pleased some meaningless platitude I recited was helpful,” he drawled. “As I said, I don’t recall what I said.”
She flinched just as he had done the first time he’d said he didn’t recall his words. What had been so important to her meant nothing to him.
“Here’s your father’s home,” he said, motioning toward the window, where the townhouse was rising larger in the distance.
“Thank you for the escort,” she said, watching as he examined his nails with a bored expression.
“I suppose it’s the least I could do, considering the pretty little gift you gave to me tonight,” he said, lifting his gaze to hers. His tone was mocking.
She gritted her teeth. “Will I see you again?” she asked. Hated herself for asking when he was obviously so driven to get rid of her.
He arched a brow as they came to a stop on the drive. “This isn’t for you, Juliana. I am not for you.”
He swallowed hard, as if saying those words was difficult, and for a moment she saw a glimpse of the man who had asked her about the day she’d been taken. The man who had pleasured her so sweetly. The man who teased and played and made her smile.
“Ellis—” she whispered.
He lifted a hand to silence her. “We both got what we wanted tonight. So go inside and forget me. Forget tonight.” The door opened, and he smiled. “I will.”
She caught her breath as a servant offered her a hand to help her down. She narrowed her gaze at Ellis, but he held her stare firmly, his expression flat and bored and cold. She shook her head and exited the carriage with as much dignity as she could muster.
The moment the door was closed, she heard him rap on the carriage wall and it drove on into the night. Away from her like nothing mattered. Was that real? Did he truly not give a damn? Was all his talking and smiling and offering comfort a game? The same one he’d played with dozens of women before her?
She had no idea. And that stung more than anything else.
