Page 53 of When We Touch

At whatever cost.

She had betrayed Charles. Yes, she had not wed the man yet. He had betrayed his own uncle, a man he admired and loved. And yet, it had been with the same justification. Charles was not married to the lady as yet.

Well, fine. He’d dance at her wedding, then.

He glanced at the bed, where it seemed that he’d finally found just what he’d looked for, all of his life.

A mirage.

His mouth tightened, and with it, his heart hardened.

Indeed, he would dance at her wedding. Somehow, he would step back. He would forget the night. He had known from the beginning that she was dangerous. Very dangerous to his uncle. He had known that she could twist men around her fingers, just with the strength of those blue eyes. He would have never thought that he might have found a strange vulnerability in her. Never imagined that he could be so taken himself. So entrapped. Halfway in love . . .

Never in love, he told himself harshly.

She was a lie, and that was it.

And if he ever saw her look at him again, as she had that night, endless blue eyes naked with sheer honesty and need, he’d call her a liar, a harlot, the worst kind of whore, right to her face.

To hell with her.

And still . . .

Images haunted him.

No.

Pain seemed to tear at his muscles, his limbs . . . his heart.

No.

He’d been a fool. He’d betrayed a man he loved.

Never again.

Never.

Chapter 8

Between Darby and Clayton, they had organized everything Maggie might need and it had been brought to Moorhaven the day before. Justin’s clothing, too, for the ceremony, had been brought to the house. All they had to do was ride out to the estate.

Maggie had had no sleep and suffered with a pounding headache. She felt as if she moved about in fog, but when Justin knocked on her door, she smoothed her hair, and opened it with a pretense of well-being.

“Good morning.”

“You don’t have to do this.”

She sighed softly. “Justin, we’ve gone through this so many times. Charles is a really good man. He’s embraced the projects that mean so very much to me. He doesn’t spend his life moving from his club to the nearest cigar bar. I’m going to be a countess; not a bad lot in life. I’m resigned, now you must be resigned as well.”

He looked away. “Well, you would break his heart if you were to back out now, but, still, Maggie, Lord knows you don’t deserve to pay for the things I’ve done. You know, I’ve been talking to some American businessmen at my club, and do you know what we could do? Emigrate! Start all over in a new country. Get jobs!” He gave her a pretend shudder. “Seriously, it’s a possibility, don’t you think?”

She smiled. “And forfeit the title and what little land we have left to Angus?”

“We can go there and get rich, and I’ll still be Lord Graham. Then we can come back.”

“Or I can just marry Charles, and make a good man very happy. Go away—let me get ready.”

With a sigh, he turned and left her.