Colin’s watch pressed against his chest, the hands motionless, forever frozen in place, but Julian wasn’t frozen into this moment. Not yet. It wasn’t too late to send Charlotte back to the ballroom, to get her far, far away from him before he said something he could never take back.
Don’t do this. Don’t hurt her.
“Christ,” Devon muttered. “Did you hear me, West?”
Julian jerked his gaze back to Devon’s face. “I heard you.”
“Good.” Devon turned to Charlotte. “I’ll be only as far as the terrace should you need me.” He gave Julian a look that managed to be threatening and contemptuous at once, then disappeared down the pathway.
Julian watched him go, then turned to Charlotte. “You did say you and Devon aren’t lovers, didn’t you? Hard to believe, given his fierce protectiveness. But perhaps youarelovers now. Such a tender scene I interrupted.”
Please. Say it isn’t what it seems, and make me believe it.
But she only pressed her clasped hands tightly against her waist as if she were trying to hold herself together. “I wanted to see you tonight.”
“Oh? Well, that explains why I found you alone in a dark garden, clasped in Devon’s arms. You were looking forme.”
“This afternoon, in the carriage…I want to thank you for—”
“For giving you pleasure? Yes, you did seem to enjoy it, and it’s only fair, I suppose, since I’ve had my share of pleasure from you. And oh, what pleasure it was, my lady. But then desire was never a problem between us, was it? It was everything else.”
She flinched. “I’ve made a decision. I’m leaving for Bellwood tomorrow, with Ellie and Cam—”
“Do you remember our night in the garden, Charlotte?” He moved closer to her, his hand sliding up her arm. “I do. I remember the way you sighed for me, the way you moaned into my mouth and begged me to touch you.”
She jerked her head as if she could shake loose the image of them together.
Agony ripped through his chest. She wouldnotshake off that memory like so much dust from her boots. “And God knows I wanted to touch you, that night and for months afterward, even after you tossed me aside to marry Hadley. A few kisses and I was your willing slave. But I’m not some foolish, besotted boy anymore, and you won’t make me crawl for you this time.”
A tremor passed through her. “I was the slave, Julian. I was the one who ended up crawling.”
He made a mocking noise in his throat. “Did you suffer for me, Charlotte? Did you weep as you walked down the aisle to Hadley? Is that what you want me to believe?”
“I—I did weep for you,” she whispered.
“Ah well, a few tears perhaps, but you recovered quickly enough, likely the minute you became a marchioness. You landed on your feet just like any cat, while I spent months praying not to see your face every time I closed my eyes.”
She stared down at her clenched hands. “I never recovered. I still see your face when I close my eyes. I still weep for you.”
A roar started in Julian’s ears and he welcomed it, rejoiced in it, for her words had a ring of truth to them he couldn’t bear to hear. Her sorrow would weaken him, just as her love had done, and then nothing would matter to him except her. Not Cam and Ellie, not Colin, not Jane. Not even himself.
Finish it.
“Tell me, does Devon know you let me touch you this afternoon?” The words sliced between them like a blade, more horrible for the casualness with which he said them. “In a carriage, no less.”
Oh God, those words.They echoed horribly in his head, but the monster had its hand at his throat now and there was no escape, nothing he could do but let it claw its way out of him and devastate everything in its path.
Her face drained of color, but she didn’t utter a word to defend herself. She simply stood there and withstood his attack, and the horror of it made the misery rise inside him, a tide that pulled and sucked at him until he was down so deep her face swam in front of his eyes, and everything receded so he wasn’t a part of it anymore, but could only watch it unfold from below, helpless to stop it.
“I could touch you again, Charlotte. Right here in the garden. Would you like that? I would. I’d love to touch you and then send you back to Devon.”
“Stop this… Don’t do this, Julian.” She wrenched her arm free, stumbling backward, but just like the cat he’d called her, she caught herself before she fell.
God, he could almost admire it, the way she kept her feet under her while she brought everyone around her to their knees. “Christ, I almost pity Devon. He’ll twist and bleed for you, just as I did. Just as Hadley did. Nothing but heartache can come from wanting a woman like you.”
She froze, her body going so still he thought of a bird shot from the sky in mid-flight, the way it hovers for a moment before it plunges lifeless to the ground. Fear traced an icy finger down his back, but it was too late to stop now. He’d gone too far, and God help him, he didn’t know how to stop anymore.
“This afternoon, in the carriage. Why did you help me?”
