“I . . .” Damn it. Words bloody failed him.
“I truly don’t understand you, Mandeville.”
Julien drew her behind a tree, jaw ticking as he studied all the pinched lines forming on her face. “I don’t, either.” Could he even afford to try?
Chapter 9
He didn’t understand?
Surely it wasn’t that hard? He had intentions. A purpose. This business he mentioned, and yet, he offered no further explanation. Of course he wouldn’t. And why should he. She was nothing to him. Meant nothing to him. The meaning of all their moments was an exchange for him. Nothing else. Her heart hurt in a way it hadn’t hurt in all the seasons before this one. Disappointment reigned supreme. Which was even more confusing since she hadn’t expected anything from this man.
Had she been determined to never see him again?
He had always been the one who approached her. So why did she have to be the one that felt like a fool? Why did she have to feel like she’d done wrong? Why did she, despite everything that happened, still find the man more endearing than annoying?
How did she even respond to hisI don’t know, either?
Elowyn sighed. “Well, we owe each other nothing, now. Can we agree on that?” She selfishly didn’t mention his jacket.
He stared at her for a moment, and it looked like he wanted to say something, but in the end, he only inclined his head.
Hah.
“So, then, let us part on good terms.”You insufferable, barbarian, haxcomb. She would not cry. She would not shed a single tear. He had not broken her heart. She’d have to have fallen for him for that to happen.
She wasnotbroken-hearted.
“The best of terms,” he said gruffly.
So be it then.
She gave him one last look—cool, she hoped, perhaps slightly wounded if her heart was any indication, and far braver than she felt—before turning on her heel with all the dignity she could muster. The throb in her breast was nothing at all. Nothinghecould have caused. Nothing she could not overcome.
The root of the tree caught her before she had taken three steps.
A startled cry escaped her as she pitched forward, only to be caught at once by strong arms circling her waist and hauling her against a solid wall of warmth. Elowyn inhaled sharply. His hands were firm at her sides, his chest unyielding beneath her palms. Their eyes met, and for a moment, she understood how poets claimed the world stopped when meeting the person of their dreams, because for a moment, her world stopped.
And then the world crashed into her again in the most disastrous fashion.
Gasps erupted all around them, followed by the sharp hiss of whispers, and Elowyn’s stomach dropped even as her face burned. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, she knew, even as she turned her head to the sounds, any and all future seasons were ruined.
This was the end.
The final season where she had had the possibility of fulfilling her dreams.
A group of six or seven people stood staring at her and Mandeville. And the center of them, an extremely furious Lady Gabrielle, her face almost purple with anger. She pointed an affronted finger at Elowyn, spluttering, “So, this was the reasonfor your deception,” the woman outright accused. “You wanted Mandeville all to yourself!”
Elowyn’s heart sank, and she scrambled from Mandeville’s arms then, nearly tripping over her own skirts in her haste to put distance between them. Her cheeks burned; every eye on her felt like a curse.
Of course.
Of all the ways to end her season, this was the most mortifying way yet.
***
The moment the wildflower slipped from Julien’s arms, something in him went cold. Empty. As if she’d taken the only warmth he hadn’t known he was holding onto. His temper, never of a long fuse, was now burning hotter than molten earth thanks to Dansbury’s niece. He had no doubt this woman gathered her gaggle when she spotted him and Elowyn and had followed them. But enough was enough. He would make this clear today, even if he damn well suffered for it later.
“Deception?” he growled. “You accuse the lady of deception, madam, when it was your own scheme to trap me into marriage which dragged an innocent into your messy affairs. I’d mind that finger of yours, were I you, lest you find it cut off.”
