“I mean to find peace,” she said softly.
“And what if peace findsyoufirst?”
Her brow furrowed. “What are you implying?”
He rose, feeling suddenly restless, then standing before her. “Only that you seem very determined to punish yourself for the sins of others.”
Her eyes flashed. “Do not pretend to know me.”
“I know enough,” he said, leaning forward. “Enough to know you are not meant for walls and prayers.”
Her tone was cool as glass. “And what am I meant for, then? To endure another round of parties, of polite pity? To be the lady everyone whispers about behind their fans? I have been that creature long enough.”
He ran a hand over his jaw. He could feel the sharp bite of frustration. “You cannot simply dispose of yourself without affection.”
She stared back at him, wildly and unapologetically. “How could I not, when affection has done nothing but harm?”
The air thickened between them. The music from the main lawn seemed unreal, as if it belonged to another world. For all they cared, itdid. He wanted to speak, to argue, to beg her not to say such things, but no words came. She sat so perfectly still like a marble statue, as though daring him to contradict her.
Jasper was pacing a few steps before turning back to her. “You think this will bring you peace, but what you mean is safety.”
“And what is wrong with safety?” she asked, matching his tone. “Do you think me too proud to crave it?”
“No,” he said. “Only too alive to bury yourself before you are dead.”
Her breath caught, though she masked it quickly. “You presume much of me.”
“Someone must, when you yourself refuse to,” he shot back.
She stood then, quickly, perhaps to end the argument, but when she did, they found themselves closer than either intended. The moment tightened. Her lavender perfume rose between them. He saw her throat move as she swallowed. He saw the faint tremor in her hands though she clasped them tightly.
He should have stepped away… hedidn’t.
“You should not look at me like that,” she said, with her voice barely above a whisper.
“Like what?”
“As though you would…” She started but the thoughts drifted away.
He felt the words on the edge of his tongue, the truth pressing against the barrier he’d built for years. He wanted to tell her she was wrong. He wanted to tell her that she wasseen, that he of all men understood what it was to hide behind pride and call it peace. But he could not. If he said it, it would undo them both.
So, he did the only thing a man in his position could do… hekissedher.
It was not gentle. It was not planned. It was the collision of every unsaid thing between them: the anger, the disbelief, the ache neither would name. His hand came to her jaw, his fingers trembling against the smooth line of her cheek. She froze for the barest instant, then melted against him.
He drank her breath into himself, catching it as the world fell away. The taste of her shattered every barrier he had built. He had kissed women before, more times than he cared to count, yet none of it had ever felt like this. There was no performance here, no practiced charm. This was pure, all-consuming fire.
When she gasped softly against his lips, his control faltered completely. He drew her closer, one arm circling her waist and the other lost in the silk of her hair. She rose onto her toes to meet him. Her fingers clutched at his coat as though afraid he might vanish. The roses around them blurred and everything disappeared into the hum of blood and breath.
When he pulled back at last, his forehead rested against hers. Both of them were breathing hard. He could not take his eyes of off her. For a moment, he nearly said it. That she made him feel alive again, that he wanted her, that the thought of her locked away in some cold convent made his chest tighten with something too raw to name.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he only whispered her name, as though her name itself might steady him. “Matilda…”
Her lips parted once, closed again, and he saw the struggle flicker in her eyes. Whatever she meant to say hovered between them, fragile as the petals beneath their feet. Then, suddenly, laughter reached them, dangerously close.
Matilda froze, and just like that, the spell was broken,
