“Not as vengeful as you.”
She sobered, grew somber. “No, not as vengeful as I am.” She shook her head. “I declined his offer. I learned well the lesson he delivered. I shall decline all his offers should more be forthcoming—which I seriously doubt will happen.”
Millie parted the golden strands into thirds and began plaiting them. “Why his sudden interest after all this time?”
“I don’t know. He was aware of Lord Chidding’s calling upon me.”
“Jealous mayhap. Regrets his actions. Recognizes he lost a true gem when he turned his back on you. Did you ask him why he treated you like yesterday’s rubbish?”
“I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing any of it meant anything to me any longer. That I’d ruminated about him at all over the years.” Of discerning she continued to dream of him every night. And theyweredreams, dreams regarding what they might have had. Whenever she’d been in his company, she’d been so blissfully happy, had believed he accepted her for herself, flaws and all. He’d found no fault withher parentage. The fact that she had no friends among the nobility hadn’t mattered. He’d had friends aplenty and had ensured they always danced with her at balls and treated her with respect when their paths crossed. He’d seemed proud, overjoyed even, to have her at his side. He’d never missed an opportunity to touch her, kiss her, or tell her how special she was. She’d trusted his demonstrations of affection were true. But they’d all been lies. What they had shared had been a lie.
“Mayhap we should return to Europe.”
She shook her head. “Three years was long enough. I missed England.”
To ensure she always had a place to live, her father had put the manor and its surrounding properties in a trust for her. Unfortunately, she was not allowed to sell it. He’d added that particular stipulation because he’d feared some man would convince her to hawk it and the rapscallion would subsequently abscond with the money, leaving her with nothing. The twenty thousand pounds were also in a trust, and the yearly interest generated more than enough to sustain her. But the conditions of the trust prevented her from touching the principle. Her father, apparently, had little faith in her judgment. Although she could hardly blame him when it had been horrendous at one point. Or perhaps he’d merely known the unscrupulousness of men, even before Knightly had proven himself undependable.
“You should have confronted the scapegrace when you returned.”
“There was nothing more to say. We said it all at the church.”
Or most of it, anyway. She should have unleashedthe full extent of her fury that morning, but disbelief had numbed her and created a veil of protection. All she’d wanted was to get away from him. And not to give him the gratification of knowing he’d devastated her, torn her heart from her chest, and gutted her as well. She had her pride and a lifetime of sloughing off slights, pretending to be immune to the ugliness often directed her way. That she’d never expected him to fall into the category of cruel was a testament to her foolishness and his ability to forge dreams from fabrications.
She’d not even let her father see her tears, but she’d shed them later, alone in her bedchamber. The crushing weight had nearly destroyed her, but she discovered she was not so fragile as all that. She’d been determined to rebuild herself from all the shattered shards. And she’d done it, although tonight she’d felt the stress on the fragile cracks where she’d pieced herself back together. She’d wanted to feel nothing toward him. Instead, she’d felt everything.
“Bugger him, I say. And good riddance.”
“Yes, good riddance.” Unfortunately, her tone carried far less conviction than Millie’s, because once again she was trapped in that awful morning when so many emotions had bombarded her that she could barely make sense of them.
Her friend-more-than-servant draped the plait over her shoulder, a habit she’d begun years ago to indicate she was finished with the task of preparing her charge for bed. “Will there be anything else, miss?”
“No, thank you, Millie. You’ve done more than enough.”
“Would you like me to help you into bed? Tuck you in?”
Regina smiled warmly at her. “No, I’m going to stay up for a while.”
“Not too late. You need your beauty rest.”
Regina laughed lightly because Millie always ended the night with those words. Her maid slipped out quietly, leaving Regina alone with her memories.
She’d never forget the redness of her father’s face or the bulging of his eyes or the tightness in his jaw when Knightly informed him the marriage would not take place, that he would be announcing the news to those waiting to witness the ceremony. Or the satisfaction she’d experienced when he’d plowed his fist into Knightly’s face. Or the flash of worry she’d felt when the man she had loved stumbled back and hit the floor. She’d been horrified watching the blood dribble from his mouth, disgusted with herself because her first instinct had been to render him aid. How could she have cared when he’d been so horrid?
“You will marry her,” her father had commanded.
Wiping the blood from his mouth, Knightly had looked at her through hooded eyes. “Do you want to marry a man who can’t bring himself to marry you?”
She’d never known a person could survive such heartache. “May you rot in hell.”
“I assure you, Reggie, hell is definitely where I am headed.”
“I’ll sue you for breach of contract,” her father had growled.
“I’d expect no less.”
“I shall see you ruined.” But a man of Knightly’simmense wealth couldn’t be brought to ruin or to heel. She’d known even then her father’s threats would have as little effect as a fly buzzing around.
Tonight she’d had no difficulty displaying her disdain for him. She hadn’t been frozen, wondering why he’d changed his mind. She’d moved on with her life, had chased away all doubts, insecurities, and uncertainties. In their place, she had erected a wall of confidence that now guided her.
