Yes. The honors of ruining her life.
She had a million questions for the demon in front of her. Where had she slipped up? Why had he cared enough to know her lies? What could she have done differently? None of the answers mattered now.
Besides, she had suddenly grown mute.
“What exactly is going on here, Bancroft?” Sebastian asked,frustration clear in his voice.
“How well do you think you know your wife?” Lord Bancroft clearly spoke to Sebastian, but his deep green eyes never left Augusta.
“What are you on about?” Sebastian asked roughly. “What business do you have speaking of her?”
“What business doesshehave sneaking around with a common man?”
So there it was. The silence. The room tilted and everyone looked at her, and the pieces fell into place. The image - the truth of her situation - came together with slicing clarity.
She had nothing to say. Nothing at all.
Sebastian was the first to break the spell. “My wife would never be unfaithful, Bancroft. Whatever little scheme you’ve cooked up over there, I suggest you drop it now.”
“I never said she was unfaithful,” Lord Bancroft said, almost gleeful in his theatrics now that he’d captured the attention of the room. “I merely said she was sneaking around. You haven’t been cuckholded by another man, but by an entire career. Your little wife here is a practicing alienist.”
Before Augusta could even try and find her voice, Sebastian’s rang out.
“Howdareyou. My wife is as respectable as a woman in thetoncould ever be. Are you so miserable and small that you must make up lies, then? Is your political career so insignificant that you must tell stories to keep yourself occupied?”
If ever a man had looked so hateful before, Augusta had not seen it. Lord Bancroft looked as though he was about to snap.
“I am only speaking the truth, Brightwater. You merely do not want to hear it because you have grown so sentimental over yoursad Piglet. Perhaps if you had kept in mind that you only married her for her dowry, you would not be so blinded.”
A strangled sound escaped Sebastian’s throat.
“That’s what you called her, isn’t it?” Lord Bancroft asked. “A sad Piglet?”
Augusta was aware that her gut felt as though it had been punched. She was also aware that her throat ran dry and the air felt stale. But it was hard to truly feel those things when she suddenly felt deeply, unendingly hollow.
She wanted to stand tall, but her gaze flicked to Sebastian before she could stop herself. Just before he looked away, she saw the same expression from a moment before written across his face: guilt.
Piglet. What a name for a girl who had cried easily, who had been strange and obsessive and chubby, and stood up for baby pigs who could not defend themselves. What a name for a girl who had wanted so badly to understand the bleakness of her own mind when no one else had seemed terribly interested in doing so.
Indeed, what a stupid, sad Piglet she’d always been.
“Greeling was a part of our deal,” Lord Bancroft said plainly, unperturbed by the destruction he had just wrought.
Her dowry. A deal. Hollow. Hollow. Hollow.
Whatever love she’d had, whatever flights of fancy had overtaken her these past weeks, all of them fled in an instant. All silly thoughts of ‘we’ and ‘us’ made a quick heel turn and left her mind completely. She was, once again, the dour, single Miss Browning in every way but name.
As if he knew what was occurring within her, Sebastian stepped forward, laying a hand on Augusta’s arm to hold her in place.
“Please, love, let me explain-”
She slapped his hand away and stepped back. This close, she saw every feature with new eyes. He had a few wrinkles around his eyes. His lips, which had brought her so much pleasure only the day before, now appeared to her a most unpleasantly pale color. Slight graying had begun at his hairline.
She had never noticed any of it before, because she’d never noticed anything unbecoming about Sebastian until just this moment. He’d been the dashing hero these past weeks. Now, he was just a man. Another sad, disappointing man.
“Not so different from your father after all, are you, Lord Brightwater?” she said coldly, because cold was all she could muster.
Several emotions swirled through his expression at the same time - irritation, hurt, regret. Quickly, he composed himself, appearing humble once again. Augusta noted what an actor he was, and wondered how she had missed it before.
