Oh, God. She trulydidn’tknow to whom she gave the gift of her virtue.
He was going to be ill.
“It was the night of the masquerade,” Fleur said. “He was—”
“Masked,” he supplied dully. That’s why she didn’t know.
Fleur nodded. “He was dashing and debonair and romantic.”
All things no woman in her right head had or ever would say about Hart, but everything a winsome innocent like Fleur McQuoid said about the fiend who robbed her of her innocence.
“It wasn’t only about,” She grimaced. “Passion, Henry.”
Did she think that would make what occurred between her and some other man somehow better… for Hart? Later, he would rationalize his way around that. Now, he was trying to be the friend she wanted him to be.
“We were united in so many of our thoughts and dreams.”
No doubt trusting, romantic, Fleur McQuoid shared hers first, and it had been easy enough for the fiend to developnewfoundinterests.
He was going mad.
“We spoke about things that mattered.”
It was too much. “Yes, I’m sure he was there for your stimulating conversation,” he snapped.
She looked like he had slapped her across the face; so why did it feel like he had taken a blow to the heart?
Hart ran a hand over his face.
The irony. They had both had their own secret affair that night. He was with a skilled French lady who had matched Hart’s passion for passion. And Fleur…with…some mysterygentleman.
Fleur stared at a point beyond his shoulder and tried to get his head right. “You said I would get myself ruined, and you were right. You just didn’t realize that I had already done it.
Hart’s body jerked.
“I’m not saying that because I want you to feel like you should have saved me, because you shouldn’t have. I wasn’t your responsibility. It wasn’t your role.
An insupportable feeling of bitterness welled up in his throat, nearly strangling him.
“And I…didn’t even want saving. That night, Henry,” her eyes radiated brighter than all the stars overhead. “All I wanted was—”
He exploded to his feet, needing to move, and at the same time fighting the need to clamp his hands over his ears to drown out the sacrilege she spoke.
She kept going, continued twisting the blade. “I need you to know,” Tears choked her voice. “I didn’t even regret it until…” Until…
No answer she gave could make this right; could make him feel all right.
Fleur stood slowly. She waited there, looking like she wanted to say more. Or waiting for him to speak?
Only, he couldn’t speak.
And as she walked off, her proud shoulders bent, he proved Fleur right. He had no idea how to be a friend.
“Fleur!” For a second time, he stopped her at the door.
Fleur turned back and faced him. Her pale face was as stark white as the moon overhead.
“Your secret is mine. I will help you find his identity,” he uttered quietly. “We will find it together.”
