She was doing the right thing.
She had to keep telling herself that.
Ash had only proposed because of duty, because of guilt, because he thought she needed saving.
And she wouldn’t let him be trapped like that.
Not with her.
Because she already knew—knew—what it felt like to be unwanted. And she had no intention of spending a lifetime with that feeling.
But then, as she sat there, breathing through the hollow emptiness, something shifted. A strange unease unfurled in her stomach, something deeper than heartbreak, something physical.
She had felt…different. For days now.
She closed her eyes, counted back the weeks in her head.
Her stomach clenched.
No.
Her breath came faster, shallower.
No, no, no.
It couldn’t be.
Her hands trembled as she pressed them against her abdomen, as if she couldfeelthe truth lying beneath her skin.
Ash.
She had left him. Pushed him away. Broken both their hearts.
And now—now—she suspected she was carrying his child. Tears burned at the corners of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
Because this changed everything.
And at the same time, it changed nothing.
She was still leaving. She had to.
Even if it meant carrying this secret with her all the way to Paris.
CHAPTER FORTY
One Hour Later
Ash sat in his sister’s drawing room, staring into the fire, a glass of brandy untouched in his hand.
He had lost her.
Clare had already left, and there was nothing he could do about it. Because she had made it clear. She didn’t want him. And the worst part? She thought he had only proposed out of duty.
Bloody hell.
Hadn’t he spent his entire life avoiding marriage for that very reason? Avoiding being trapped? Avoiding falling in love?
But now, sitting here, gut-punched and hollow, he finally understood. It had never been about duty. It had never been about saving her reputation.
