She released his hand, and it seemed as though every ounce of warmth in her body drained away with the loss of his touch. He’d stolen her heart and her innocence. She’d been such a fool.
“It could have been anyone,” he whispered. “I could have chosen Emma Marks. Her dowry is even larger than yours. But I didn’t want her, Natalia. I want you.”
“Do you expect me to be grateful you chose me for your deception?” Self-preservation took over and turned her hurt into angry contempt. She put a hand to her aching temple, feeling as though her head would explode. “I’m sorry I ever met you.”
Then she stepped away, crossing the distance to her father’s side. Far safer in the duke’s shadow. She wondered now why she had been so eager for danger and excitement.
Her father gave her one pitying, exasperated look, then turned his attention back to Dylan. “For the sake of your brother and your father, who are honorable men, I’ll let you leave here tonight, but if you ever breathe a word of this to anyone, I’ll ruin you. Do you understand me?”
All the emotion bled from Dylan’s expression. His eyes became as wintry and empty as they’d been the first time he asked her to dance.
“Of course. I understand perfectly.” Then he turned and walked away, leaving Natalia to face her father’s wrath alone.
Chapter Eleven
Dylan strode away from Natalia and the duke, disappointment and regret fueling every step. He wanted a quiet place to lick his wounds, needed a few solitary moments to process all the ways in which the evening had gone wrong.
There had to be a way to make things right.
Michael caught up with him near the back of the house, but Dylan didn’t even slow down. He wasn’t ready to have this conversation. Not on top of everything else.
Michael stopped him with a firm grip on his upper arm. “Don’t you dare walk away from me. I think you owe me an explanation, at the very least.”
The two brothers stared at each other for a few endless moments. In Michael’s eyes, Dylan saw more than mere anger. He saw revulsion and absolute dislike.
Michael had never hated him. Until now.
Dylan looked away first, unable to bear the reproach. “I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”
“You didn’t think it would hurt me, to find you in a compromising situation with the woman I have to marry?” Michael laughed, a bitter exhalation of sound. “Damn you, Dylan. You gave me your word.”
Dylan bowed his head in chagrin. “I know you think you have a chance of winning her heart, but I already told you her father plans to marry her to a prince. And when she asked me to meet her in the garden…” He shook his head in self-reproach. “I should have said no, but I wanted her so damned much.”
“Do you think that makes it all right?” Michael stepped away, putting more distance between them. “Not that it’s any of your business, but when the duke approached me this evening, he all but implied Lady Natalia was mine if I wanted her.” Michael ran his hand through his hair. “You’ve ruined everything. I’ll have to marry that obnoxious little American.”
“This doesn’t change anything. You can still marry Natalia.” Dylan’s whole heart rebelled at the thought. But after what had happened here tonight, he knew the duke would make her wed someone else as soon as possible. At least Michael would treat her with respect and kindness. “None of this was her fault.”
“You want me to marry a woman I can’t trust? Spend the rest of my life worrying that every time I go to my wife’s bed, it’s you she’s imagining beside her?” Michael shook his head. “I think I’ll pass on that particular form of hell.”
Dylan made a soft sound of frustration. “I said I’m sorry. What else do you want me to do?”
Michael gave him a long measuring look. “We’re not children anymore. You can’t say you’re sorry and make everything all right. It’s done. It’s over. There’s nothing you can do to take it back.”
Dylan knew he deserved his brother’s harsh words. He nodded once, abruptly, and accepted Michael’s judgment.
“I’m through trying to fix your mistakes.” Michael shook his head again. “Go to Scotland. Don’t ever come back. There’s nothing left for you here.”
Then the only person who still cared about Dylan turned and walked away, leaving him alone in the duke’s garden.
Aching. Knowing he deserved it.
* * *
Natalia’s father escorted her back to her room in utter silence. Anger and frustration emanated from him in a wave, but somehow, he managed to restrain from any further recrimination.
Thank God. She couldn’t bear to be berated any further. She felt emotionally naked, stripped and laid bare by the evening’s events. She’d gone from the heights of joy to the depths of despair, all in a matter of moments, and she was still reeling.
“We’ll speak about the consequences of your actions in the morning,” he told her gruffly, when they reached her door. “Don’t leave this room again tonight.”
