“You thought what, Meghan?” he urged quietly.
Her silence stretched so long he believed she would not answer.
She lifted pain-filled eyes to his; the weight of her suffering sucked the breathable air from the room. “You didn’t think to marry me.”
There was an odd quality to her voice.
“I…” The thought had never occurred to him—until now.
Culross searched her face. “Is that a question, Meghan?”
Was that something she would have…entertained? Wanted even?
Was it somethinghewould have wanted? Being tangled with that family through her… That was why he had not ever considered…
The saddest little smile formed on her lips.
For each minuscule movement of her mouth, another weight settled onto his chest.
Culross despised the feeling.
He waited for an answer.
One that never came.
A muscle ticked in his jaw.
Self-loathing struck hard.
He despised all this…feelingnonsense. It clouded his judgment. Playing at gentleman, being the honorable sort, had left him weak. It had cost him an alliance. Worse, it had cost Culross his dignity and pride.
Tomorrow he would begin again. Boundaries would go up. He would not play Caesar to Meghan’s Cleopatra. Culross would sever whatever power he had allowed Meghan McQuoid-Smith in this moment.
Her tears didn’t matter to him.
And yet, as he finished his toilet and dressed, he was forced to confront a truth—
Her tears mattered more than they should.
Chapter 11
Seated at the vanity with Scarlet brushing her hair—and with none of the gentleness of August’s ministrations the night before—Meghan stared miserably at her reflection.
With its layered dust and wear, the mirror must have been original to the building. The distorted glass panel still managed to capture all of Meghan’s heartache. Her swollen, bloodshot eyes. Her wan complexion made the freckles she normally loved appear as splotchy, darker specks she now hated.
“Had a cry last night, did you?” Scarlet asked snidely. “The captain has a way of making a woman weep, but they don’t seem to be the same sort of tears.”
No, Meghan’s were theI sobbed in silence and had my heart brokenkind.
“You and I aren’t different, you know,” Scarlet continued bitingly. “You ain’t a fancy wife, but a whore the same as me. The difference is he’ll tire of you. He comes to visit me every time he sets sail.” A lusty glimmer sparked in the woman’s brown eyes. “And when he returns.”
This is what awaits me. I’ll be seen as a whore…
Meghan’s fingers shook. She buried them in her lap.
When she returned home, every door would be closed to her. Her married kin would weather the storm. They were powerfully titled and connected. But Meghan, Fleur, and Andromena—they would be pariahs.
This was August’s doing.
