Like he had already accepted her rejection.
But his next words...
His next words nearly shattered her.
‘It was a moment of weakness on my part,’ he said smoothly. ‘I should never have disrespected you like this.’
Disrespected. His emotionless words cut deeper than the proposal itself.
All those stolen glances, the lingering touches, the quiet, unspoken tenderness—they had all been a lie. A mirage.
She had misjudged him completely and utterly. How could she have been so blind, so foolish?
Her lips parted, but she found herself without words.
His words were a blade to her chest.
‘I will never speak this way to you again.’ He said as he straightened his coat, his expression completely impassive.
‘Let us forget this conversation and return to the ballroom.’
Forget?
He wanted to forget this conversation?
Forget that he had insulted her in the worst way?
Forget that he had stolen every fragile hope she had once held for him?
No.
No, she would not forget.
Her throat tightened painfully.
Her hands shook at her sides, but she forced herself to lift her chin.
‘I thank you for the clarification, Your Grace,’ she said, her voice disturbingly hollow.
‘I now know exactly where I stand.’
He gave a small, polite nod. As if nothing had happened.
As if she meant nothing.
She curtsied stiffly.
Then, without another word, she turned and walked away.
Through the ballroom. Up the grand staircase. Down the darkened halls.
By the time she reached her chamber, her composure shattered completely.
With a choked sob, she threw herself onto the bed.
And wept.
She wept for what could have been.
