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“He said she’d become a nuisance of late.”
“Sabrina, you must see what he’s doing. You cannot possibly be so blind!”
“Henry, really. This is—”
“I’ll not stand idly by and watch him destroy you.”
“Destroy me? He represents everything I desire,” she told him.
“Coward.” The soft accusation hung in the air between them, a tangible thing.
Her eyes flashed. “I am no coward. If I were, I’d have married Chadwick and been done with this long ago. In fact, I find myself wondering why I did not. He would have been the better choice at the time.”
“The safer maybe, but certainly not the better,” Henry countered. “You would have been miserable with him, and you know it. You need someone stronger than—”
“You seem to know an awful lot about what I need,” she cut in, her temper showing.
“I know that you need to trust your heart. What does it say about Falloure?”
“The heart is a poor judge of character, easily tricked.”
“The heart is the only trustworthy judge of character,” he replied, turning to face her. “But if you trust not your heart, then what of your instincts?” he asked. “What do they tell you? What do they whisper? If you are honest with yourself, you’ll find you don’t mistrust me—you mistrust yourself.”
“I trust my own judgment implicitly and recognize that it is only impaired when I allow passion to interfere with it. Is it so terrible that I would rather make my choice based on logic than emotion? Why may I not do so without being the subject of constant harassment? If Percy asks me to marry him, I would have to say that he is the most logical of my current options.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, ‘Why?’” she asked. “I like him. I actually enjoy his company. He doesn’t constantly harass me, and I’m able to think clearly when I’m with him!” She pressed her fingers to her temples. “You cannot know how upsetting it is to be around someone and be unable to even think.”
“I can. I do. Because that is how I am with you. I find myself saying things that I know I shouldn’t. I find myself doing things—”
“Then perhaps he will save us both!” she shouted.
He stared, unwilling to believe he’d heard the words. “Did Percy ever tell you that we are friends?” He knew it would ruin his plans to have Percy tell her about Fairford, but that didn’t really matter anymore.
She blinked in surprise.
“We served together in the Coldstream Guards many years ago,” he went on. “We’ve been friends since before I left England. Are you not curious to know why a man with his reputation suddenly became interested in you?” He leaned closer. “He did it in order to prove a point to me.” It was the truth, mostly.
“It hardly matters,” she replied, her voice breaking. “Either way, I’ll still get what I want. What I have always wanted.” But even as she said it, he saw tears form at the edges of her lashes.
Why did she have to be so damned stubborn?
Though it was warm out, Sabrina felt the chill of winter in her heart as Henry stared at her for a moment, and then turned and walked away. The withdrawal of his presence was like the veiling of the sun. She hated herself for hurting him. But it was the only way.
She licked her lips, tasted salt, and realized she was crying. She almost called him back. Almost.
If she married him, she would want him body and soul. She would be what she’d sworn never to become: a jealous, possessive wife. They weren’t even wed and just the thought of him touching another woman drove her insane. Could she live with it if he wandered? Her mother had survived it, but she didn’t know if she had the fortitude to do so.
Percy inspired no such jealousy. Nor did he inspire passion. And he demanded no part of her heart.
Why did he never mention their friendship? Is he really only pursuing me to make a point?
It didn’t matter. If he asked her to marry him, she would accept and she would make sure it happened. She would get what she wanted. She would win.
But is that really what you want? The niggling doubt gnawed at her gut as she started the long walk back to the manor. By the time she arrived, a hundred tiny daggers were poking at her skull from the inside.
Returning to the festivities, she sought out Percy. “You look as though you could use a brandy,” he said, shocking a nearby lady and wresting a faint smile from Sabrina’s lips.
