“Bethany, the only reason I attempted to court Tessa for so long was because you were always there.”
Her heartbeat seemed to skip, and Bethany wondered if she had imagined his words. “Me?”
“Have I not been clear?”
“There is no need to yell at me. You know you have not been clear.”
Claybrook blew out a long, belabored breath. “It was you who I wanted to court. It was you who I found fascinating. It was you who I found beautiful.” He took a step toward her, holding the blanket so as not to expose his nether region. “When Tessa and I had ended our potential association, it was only after you and I had come to know one another. It was you I grew to desire and wished to court. I had planned on calling on your father to ask permission but before I could do so, you pushed me into the Serpentine.”
Bethany gasped and placed a hand against her heart.
Except, it hadn’t been just the comment about Tessa’s friends, but what she’d heard even before that, and it made her wonder if he was only saying what he thought she needed to hear as appeasement since he was certain they would wed.
Could she trust anything he said now? He had easily lied to the constable so couldn’t he just as easily lie to her?
Chapter Nine
“For a time, I did think that you might care for me,” she started. “Your courtship of Tessa had ended, yet you still asked me to dance and approached me when we were in the same location. I had thought…Never mind, it no longer matters.”
“I was pursuing you,” he argued.
“To what end? To make a fool out of me?”
“Of course not.”
“I know the truth, Your Grace. I heard the very words from your lips. I was a diversion if anything. Perhaps used to keep other misses away, or perhaps it was a game to you, and you did not care whose heart you broke along the way.”
“What the blazes are you talking about?” he demanded.
“Your bloody rules!” she returned, her back straight, hands fisted on hips, blue eyes glaring.
“Rules?”
“Yes, you began making them as soon as the future Duke of Ellings arrived in England. You wanted to protect him from being trapped.”
“They were for him, not me,” Claybrook argued.
“You already employed them for yourself.”
“How and when?” he demanded. Leopold was quite certain that he had not.
“Dancing,” she began. “You always approached at the beginning of an event, but you never picked the first dance because that would have been in violation of rule number four.”
“Do not show favoritism to one lady by dancing the first dance with her,” he recited. In fact, he never danced the first dance.
“Occasionally you requested a waltz, but it was rare, because had you, that would have been in further violation of rule number four.”
“Do not always choose a waltz,” he offered, his stomach tightening.
“You most certainly never asked for the supper waltz. Rule fifteen!” she bit out.
He sank onto the bed. “Or one will find themselves stuck at a table with a miss for what will feel like an entire Season while she prattles on about nonsense.”
“How many supper waltzes and suppers did you spend in the card room, Your Grace?”
Leopold chose not to answer.
“We did stroll about the perimeter of a ballroom, but never in the gardens and now I know why.”
