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“Ah, my Lady Winifred. At last you have arrived.”

He grinned at her, hoping she’d join in on the fun. But when she didn’t smile in return, his racing heart slowed until it stuttered to a near stop. His smile faded away, and he set down his bow and arrow.

“Winnie,” he said softly, noting the red in her eyes as he came up to meet her, “what’s the matter?”

She shook her head, her chin raised and lips in a straight line. He hadn’t seen her like this dejected since the first festival hadn’t surpassed her expectations.

“I just got off the phone with my dad,” she stated simply.

His chest tightened. “Oh?”

She nodded, not a tear in her eye, not a flinching mark on her brow. “He told me of a new business opportunity he found for me.”

Matthew could hardly breathe. “That sounds…promising.”

“It is. It’s with a client who can bring my dad’s firm a lot of prestige, so long as I can succeed as their consultant.”

Her eyes peered into his, as if warning him of what was to come.

Somehow, he already knew.

“I have to go,” she said, her chin rising a degree higher.

When before, he wanted to reach out to her, now, Matthew’s arms felt better at his sides. He’d been about to tell her he loved her. He’d been about to ask her to stay, not to continue on as a consultant, but to see if she wanted to make their relationship last.

How could he have been so stupid?

“When?” he said, turning away.

He reached for his bow and arrow again, facing the target. It was easier to look at than Winnie.

“Tomorrow morning.”

Shock jolted through his body, followed swiftly by a deep ache that reached all the way to his bones. He tried not to be hurt, tried to remain impartial to the news, but the cut ran deep. He never should have allowed himself to trust her—to accept her help.

He tried to aim for the target, but unsurprisingly, the arrow bounced off a nearby tree instead.

Drawing a deep breath, he turned to face her. To her credit, a pained look had crossed her features, though she tried to blink it away the second he turned.

He couldn’t understand why. Why could she not allow herself to look upset about having to leave—or rather, choosing to leave?

In an attempt to make himself feel better, Matthew drew his attention to something else, something more distant than his heart being pressed for juice like an apple with nothing left to give.

“What about the festival tomorrow?” he asked.

“It’ll run just as smoothly as it did today,” she said with a nod that looked like she was trying to convince herself of her words, too. “You can handle it all, I’m sure. And you have the staff and your family to help. You don’t need me.”

He almost scoffed. How had he fallen into this trap? How had he not seen this coming—her leaving him on his own to manage a festival he’d never been able to manage in the first place?

“Well, I guess that’s it, then,” he said.

That was it for her being at Foxwood—and that was it for Winnie being a part of his life.

Still, the niggling in his heart could not be removed. Slowly, he turned to face her, forcing his voice to remain level. “Are you willing to explain to me why you’re doing this? Or do you expect me to just accept what’s happening, no questions asked?”

“You can ask me anything, Matthew. You know that.” Her voice was strong, though the look in her eyes was anything but.

“Then, why are you going?” he asked.