Page 44 of A Potion for Passion

Ah. So, he wasn’t as good an actor as he’d hoped.

He had no idea how to mollify her. He’d betrayed her trust by lying, and he hated himself for it.

He started to speak, but she waved him into silence. “Don’t try to bamboozle me, Lawrence. I know what manner of man you are. I had hoped I was wrong about you, or that you might mature out of your faults. But as they say, a leopard can’t change its spots.”

“I meant no harm. I was trying to help.” He reached out to touch her arm, but she pulled away as if he’d burned her, her eyes full of reproach.

“Help? Because heaven forbid your plain, troublesome little assistant develop a tendre for you.”

“No! That’s not—”

She slashed up a hand. “I trusted you not to poison me. But now you have. You’ve poisoned my soul, my heart, and my hopes. I want nothing more to do with you, Lawrence Campaign,” she said, her voice rising, and turned to leave.

“Don’t go like this, Flora! Please, let me explain! I need you to understand.”

She turned back, her eyes flashing, her mouth twisted with bitterness. “I understand everything. You’re a snake who inveigles women to do your bidding. When you’ve no more use for them, you cast them aside without a thought. You think and feel with the wrong part of your anatomy. I’m beginning to doubt you have a heart, at all. And if you do, you certainly don’t bother to use it. Oh, Lawrence, I’m thoroughly ashamed of you!”

Having delivered this tirade, which ended with a gulping sob, she hastened down the steps and vanished into the inn before he could stop her.

Collapsing onto his bed, he sank his head in his hands. The Clever Plan had gone horribly wrong, and he’d hurt someone he both respected and admired.

And yet, surely, she must see he was just trying to do the right thing?

She could never have been his—a match between them was unthinkable. He would never fit into her settled, genteel world. A month sitting idle in that small cottage and he’d go out of his mind. And she would certainly not want to be part of his rough, itinerant life. She might enjoy the public side, the acting and the shows, but she didn’t know the darker side of his business, that he’d once dealt with smugglers, and was now in league with wreckers. Knowing that could put her in actual danger.

And what of America? He mustn’t lose sight of his ambitions. She’d only have held him back if he’d allowed her any closer.

No. Better their acquaintance end now. Even if the ending was agonizing, it was for the best.

With a rush of guilt, he realized he still hadn’t given her any wages. But if he went after her now, she’d probably just serve his head up to him on a platter.

Best leave it until morning, after she’d cooled down. He’d take breakfast in the inn and wait for her. She wouldn’t want to make a scene in public. Would she?

He looked ruefully at his notebook. How foolish he was to think any woman needed an anti-love philter. All a man need do was betray her trust.

Well, he’d try and make it up to her on the morrow. Even if they couldn’t part as friends, he’d rather not part as enemies.

Unfortunately, he was not to succeed in that plan, either. The next morning, after waiting over an hour for her to appear for breakfast, he made inquiries.

Only to be told she’d already left.