He’s a duke.

How many times had Gem uttered those words? Too many—as if dukes were the be all and end all...but would she be that callous? The nagging voice of experience in his head spoke with bitter memories. People of his lowly statuswereinsignificant and disposable. Shamelessly cast aside when they had served their purpose. ‘What ruse?’

‘Her little plan to make me jealous. She confessed it all a few minutes ago after your outrageous display at the dining table.’ If Westbridge knew that then she had told him. The betrayal was like a knife in the back. ‘Obviously, propriety dictates that such behaviour has to cease immediately. Duchesses need to be beyond reproach. Clarissa understands that and therefore has decided to sever all ties with you.’

He was disposable.

Of course he was.

Like his mother before him Seb had been a means to an end. Entertainment. Callously tossed aside now that he hadserved his purpose.

Even though he was dying inside, he returned the smug smile. ‘Tell my lady that I was glad I could be of service.’ Blessedly, his legs still worked, allowing him to stand and saunter to the door. They carried him at a respectable pace to the stables, got him astride his horse and made that horse trot sedately out of sight of the house.

Only then did he allow the molten rage at his own stupidity to vent as he kicked his mount into a gallop and howled at the sky, his heart sliced in two.