Rosanna stuttered over her words, wanting neither to share the whole of her feelings nor allow Mr. Tate to go free without knowing the full breadth of his damage.
“And yet being with him would be impossible. Do you have any idea how excruciating that was? Did you even care?”
Her throat tightened, and she forced herself to pause.
“No, you didn’t. The only thing that mattered to you was pushing me to the brink to see if my feelings held true. When I think of our conversation last night, and you asking me to embrace the magic of the evening—one final hurrah before we accepted reality—I am sickened. Was that your final test? To see if my heart would break to pieces over a groom?”
Cursing her wayward tongue, Rosanna turned away before he could see the growing sheen of tears. Had she not shed enough tears in the past few hours? Surely there was a limit to how many a person could cry, but the first signs were making themselves known once more, and she refused to give him a single one.
Chapter 18
Rosanna marched forward and set off down the lane, though Mr. Tate remained fixed in place—no doubt stunned that anyone would deny him anything or have the gall to speak to him in such a manner. Odious man!
And foolish one, for he appeared at her elbow once more, fighting to keep pace with her. “I know your feelings are piqued, but if you would just listen—”
“Then I would be certain to agree with you?” she scoffed. “I am no simpleton, Mr. Tate. I am quite capable of understanding what you are saying, and I despise it.”
Holding onto that fire helped to evaporate the tears, so Rosanna clasped it tight. She didn’t want to fall to pieces in front of him. Gathering up all the memories of the past weeks, she added them like kindling to the flames. All the confidences she’d shared surged forward, heating her cheeks and constricting her heart.
Then his hand was at her elbow, and Rosanna jerked it away and spun in place.
“Miss Leigh—”
“How dare you, sir!” Her voice rose, and she forced it back down. Only just. “How dare you judge me and all other ladies for caring about income and security. Our future is entirely dependent on what our fathers set aside for our dowries and what our husbands bring to our union. So yes, we do look for gentlemen who can provide for us and our children.”
With a huff, she turned away. But she only managed two steps before she whipped around and faced him again.
“How dare you look down your nose at us, sir, painting us all like thieves and harlots grasping for your purse! You have inherited the sort of financial security most never hope to find, and then you stand there acting as though we ought to sympathize with you simply because your heart has been bruised a few times when your courtships have failed—such a great hardship!”
Rosanna paused, forcing the cynicism from her tone while Mr. Tate stood there, his eyes wide.
“We all have similar disappointments, but the difference between the ladies you scorn and yourself is that if we do not marry, we become a burden to our families and a laughingstock—the dreaded spinster, who is good for nothing and lives off the crumbs her father or brother leaves her. Being a wife is our profession, so why wouldn’t we strive to secure a good position?”
Straightening, she narrowed her gaze. “If you wish me to sympathize with your plight, Mr. Tate, I will gladly do so, for I know the pains and frustrations that come with courtship. I saw how plagued you were by people at the masquerade, and I am well aware of how hunted a wealthy bachelor is, for I was raised by a lady who is as mercenary as you feared me to be. But don’t you dare act as though your burden is greater than mine or the other ladies you disdain. You haven’t the tiniest notion what it is like to be us.”
Then, turning on her heel, she continued down the road. Despite the lightness in her heart at having spoken out, Rosanna didn’t feel whole or happy. It wasn’t joy fluttering in her stomach or contentment weighing down her shoulders. Despite the pride that burned in her chest, she longed for a different resolution. A better one.
Sighing at herself, she strode forward, her attention now fixed on getting to Prudence’s door before she fell to pieces.
“Surely, Miss Leigh, we can move past this unfortunate turn of events,” said Mr. Tate, matching her pace once more. “Whatever you are feeling now, I know you feel something for me, as I do for you. I saw it on your face last night, and I see it even more clearly after what you have just told me. You wouldn’t have given in to my petitions at the masquerade if you felt nothing. Certainly, that is worth saving.”
Rosanna halted, though her gaze remained fixed in the distance. For a long moment she considered that, and though she was aware of Mr. Tate watching her, she was certain he was entirely unaware of the direction her thoughts had taken her. Even without looking at him directly, she felt his eagerness.
He thought she was bending to him.
Of course, he would.
Turning to face him, she schooled her expression and tone, holding her hands before her. She held his gaze for a long time. Despite everything, there was still a hint of a smile in his gaze.
“How did you keep your identity a secret?” she asked.
Mr. Tate’s brow furrowed. “You have been shouting at me for the past twenty minutes about that—”
But she held up a staying hand. “Not that. How did you keep your presence secret from the rest of the town for so long? Servants gossip, and they had to know what you were doing. I went to your stables and asked after you, so how did you keep that secret from coming out?”
With a confused half-grin, he huffed. “What does that matter—”
“Answer the question, Mr. Tate. How did you keep your servants from telling others about your deception?”
