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Grace gave a long sigh. “Well, I am not yours, am I?” She didn’t wait for an answer. She turned on her heel and walked away.
* * *
Eloise paced the floor of her room for what seemed like an eternity. She had wanted to confront Keyon about the note ever since she’d found it, but he was having an important meeting with his associates. She didn’t want to fly into a fit and argue with him in front of everyone, and for some reason, especially not in front of Grace.
Instead, she dressed, carefully arranged her hair in a bun, and fastened it with her new hairpin just to busy her hands. She was nervous and if she did nothing, she would slowly lose her mind. She even straightened the room. When there was nothing left to do, she paced, waiting to hear the click of his boots in the corridor.
The moment the steps echoed outside her door, she flew into the hall. Keyon stopped in his tracks, confusion marring his brows. His expression quickly changed into one of delight.
Her heart constricted, and Eloise almost gave up on the idea of confrontation. Instead, she wanted to fly into his arms.
She gestured toward her room. “Would you mind coming in?”
A small smile appeared on his lips. He definitely misconstrued her invitation. He nodded and walked inside. Eloise followed.
“Do you want to undress me this time, or shall I?” he asked, as the door closed behind her, mischief lurking in his eyes.
Eloise swallowed. His long fingers settled on a button of his waistcoat, and Eloise was tempted to just let him disrobe. Perhaps they could squeeze in one more passionate interlude before the reality had to be addressed.
She shook her head. “This is not why I asked you here.”
The smile never left his face. “Why did you ask me here?”
Eloise walked toward the vanity table, took the note, and handed it to him. He looked at the envelope with a frown, then turned it and saw her signature. His face changed into a cold, emotionless mask. “What is this?” he asked.
“I think you know,” Eloise said firmly.
“Why do you have it?”
“I think the real question is, why do you have it?”
“Because you gave it to me,” he said in an even tone of voice.
“You said you were going to send it to Ford,” Eloise said, her voice breaking. “You promised!”
“I didn’t…” He ran his fingers through his dark locks. “You are right, yes, I promised to send it, but I didn’t promise to do it right away.”
Eloise’s mouth fell open. “When? When were you going to send it?”
“When I convinced you to stay with me.”
Eloise reared back as if he’d hit her. “You were going to lie to me this entire time and expect me to stay with you?”
“I didn’t lie!”
“You tricked me!”
“Who do you think I am, Eloise?” Keyon growled and advanced toward her. Eloise stepped back until her back was against the wall and there was nowhere to retreat. “Were you not the one who dubbed me Mr. Scoundrel? Well, I am a scoundrel. You cannot expect me to be completely without fault. You cannot expect me to be honest.” Keyon stood before her, his face only a few inches away from hers.
“I expected you to be honest with me,” she whispered.
There was a pause before Keyon took a cautious step back. He spread his hands. “Well, now you know. What are you going to do about it?”
“I—” She faltered. “I want to go home.”
There was a beat of silence as he seemed to process her words. “You want to go home,” he said carefully.
“Yes. All this time I was under the illusion that Ford knew I was well, that he didn’t worry. He must be going out of his mind.” Her hand settled on her forehead, tiny beads of perspiration taking form on her face and back. “I want to assuage his worries, and I cannot do it from here, not anymore.”
