Page 70 of A Fragile Enchantment

“Don’t be unkind,” she whispered.

“Thisiskindness. I’m not interested in helping you hurt yourself.” He took a drag from his pipe. When he exhaled, his magic flowed out of him, too. All around them, the jasmine petals withered. They dropped off the vine and scattered on the ground like dirtied snow. The cloying scent of rot bloomed around them. “Go find someone else to fuss over.”

Wasthat what she was doing? Yes, she would sooner speak tosomeone else about their problems for hours than sit with her own feelings for a moment longer than she must. The instinct to comfort and soothe had been ingrained in her so deeply, she snapped to it immediately when she saw even a hint of distress. But with Kit, it was different. She cared for him enough towantto share his burdens, and right now, his biggest problem was hers, too. But Kit wounded was Kit aggressive. She would not let him get away with it today.

“Do not think I cannot see what you’re doing! You are trying to push me away because you would rather be alone than hurt.” She’d drawn blood. She could see it in the startled flicker of panic across his face. But the truth came to her with startling clarity. She remembered him, a drenched, pathetic heap inside his cage of thorns.All I do is ruin the lives of everyone around me.If he wished to deal in cruel kindnesses today, so be it. “But that is not the whole of it, is it? You would rather be alone than hurt anyone else.”

Smoke flowed out of his nostrils. He said nothing, but his eyes burned with furious vulnerability behind the haze.

“You will not get rid of me so easily, unless that’s what you really want.” Tentatively, she crossed the space between them. “What do you want?”

“What do Iwant?” he asked incredulously. “What a ridiculous question.”

“Is it?”

“It doesn’t matter what I want.” He turned away from her. It was like he’d slammed a door shut between them and twisted the key in its lock. “You were right. It’s a bad idea for us to be around each other right now. It’s too distracting.”

She clutched her collar, just above her heart. “Distracting?”

“You know what I mean,” he gritted out. “We can talk when all of this is over.”

“Over?” Anger rushed through her. The wedding was only aweek away now, but anything could happen. “You mean when you are married? Lovelace has all but declared their delight at the prospect of your wedding falling through, and I imagine they will soon have enough information to orchestrate it! We have been too careless. Do you intend to follow your brother’s example? To ignore your problems until they grow big enough to crush you?”

“And what will you have me do, Niamh?” He said her name so rarely, the sound of it growled in frustration sent a jolt through her. “You’re entirely vulnerable. I won’t be your ruin.”

Niamh sucked in a breath at the intensity crackling off him.

“Both you and Sinclair are depending on me going through with this,” he continued. “I can’t give Lovelace anything else to work with. My behavior will be under scrutiny now more than ever, as will yours. For now, I have no choice but to fall in line.”

She dropped her gaze to her feet. It felt like he’d punched something out of her. Shame settled into the space his words left behind. “I don’t want you to be unhappy for my sake.”

“It’s for duty’s sake, too. Ever since that day in the park, I…” He hesitated. “All those people sounded just like you.”

“Likeme?”

“You’ve made me see what I hadn’t before. How can I claim to care for you if I don’t care about what you’ve suffered?” he said quietly. “The Machlish deserve better, and Jack won’t give it to you. He needs someone who isn’t afraid to challenge him, someone who will hold him accountable. I don’t want to get married. I’ve never wanted anything to do with my title. But I am going to do it anyway, because it’s the right thing to do.”

“Oh.” Niamh’s heart squeezed. Never in her life had she wished less to have instilled such noble sentiments in someone. She offered him a wobbly smile. “That is very admirable.”

For the first time since she’d met him, he seemed almost a true prince—or at least, one from her fairy-tale imaginings, virtuous and determined. It suited him, this righteous fire in his amber eyes.She could imagine his portrait hanging in the enfilade of Woodville Hall now.

“And what about us?” she asked quietly.

He stared at her, baffled, as if it were self-evident, but he spoke almost reverently. “I’ll take care of you.”

She knew he would, him and that protective streak of his. The idea of a life under his protection shimmered like a dream. A beautiful house, his devotion, comfort and safety for her family. He would give her anything she needed. But she would always be his weakness—another thing to worry about, another thing for the court to exploit.

She couldn’t do it.

She couldn’t endure the thought of him leaving her cold and alone every night, of watching him raise Rosa’s children from afar, of never again selling another dress due to her tarnished reputation. She couldn’t waste away in a townhouse, no matter how beautiful or how close to Sinclair’s it was. Niamh did not do things by halves. She couldn’t settle for half his life.

If she could not have him, then she would ensure that his wedding went off without a hitch. Which meant she had to stop Lovelace from sabotaging it. The question, of course, was how.

“Stay out of trouble until the wedding—and don’t overextend yourself.” Niamh jumped at the sound of his voice. It was as though he’d sensed the turn of her thoughts. “As hard as that will be for you.”

Mutiny flared within her. She jabbed a finger at him. “You are notmyprince. You cannot command me to do anything.”

“And it would be a fool’s errand to try,” he said, with a flash of irritation. His hand closed over her wrist, then lowered it between them. “I’m asking you.”