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“I didn’t think so either, but Amberwood dragged me there after finding me in a bit of a state. Clifton and Ashford were surprisingly amenable to my presence.” He shook his head, entirely unaware of her rapidly deteriorating thoughts. “But I’ll elaborate on that later once I—”
“Wed me?” she supplied, horror gripping her chest like a vise. Everything Harry had told her was lining up far too well to be mere coincidence. The dawning anxiety on his face at the words only confirmed her devastating suspicions. “Please do not tell me that you love me and wish for my hand, for I won’t believe a word of it.” She recalled every moment of their relationship, his initial reluctance and then sudden change of heart seemingly out of nowhere. Had he known about the debts even then? The possibility of their entire relationship being another ruse of his was something she couldn’t ignore.
“I…” he began, but stopped with a hearty swallow. “I see.”
She wanted to believe the falling of his face, the sheer despair settling over his aura like a tangible wave, but the hard truth of the matter couldn’t be ignored. “I read the paper. Your mother is plastered all over it. And I know about the debts.” Her words were more accusation than statement, and she hoped beyond anything that she was wrong, that this was some silly misunderstanding he would soon rectify.
But James only looked at her in shock. “How did you discover it so soon?”
“I have my ways,” she bit back, trying her hardest not to begin crying in front of him. How foolish she had been to trust him so readily, to believe that he wouldn’t fall back to bad habits. “I suppose things are as dire as they were two years ago for you to resort to such a tactic once more.”
“No, Eliza. I was going to tell you, even before proposing,” he replied, desperation in his voice as he reached for her.
“I don’t believe you.” She took a step backwards before he could touch her. “Though it hardly signifies. I wasn’t in love with you anyway, so this little ploy of yours wouldn’t have worked.” She wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction of knowing he’d nearly won, that her heart had been entirely his for the taking. Her pride and self-worth wouldn’t allow it.
Here was the moment his mask would come off, much as it always did with Harry after he realized his charm had failed, and Eliza steeled her heart for the blank derision that was likely about to cross his face. But James only stared at her, pale and wide-eyed. “You,” he began slowly, his voice nearly inaudible in the silent parlor. “You never believed in me, did you?”
“There wasn’t anyone in the world who believed in you more, My Lord,” she said back. No, she’d fallen for him completely and trusted him implicitly, as misplaced as those feelings had been.
“Obviously not,” he snapped back. “Not if it took this little for you to believe the worst of me.” He shook his head with a queer smile. “This was a mistake, all of it.”
“You finally admit it, then?”
“I’m going to leave now before I make an even bigger fool of myself,” he said and brushed past her without a second look.
“Good,” she shouted to his retreating back. “And don’t you dare—” The door slammed shut before she could finish the words, the crack of the wood in the frame making her jump. She listened to his hurried footsteps and moved to the windowsill. Through the window she saw him trot down the front stairs and walk so briskly down the road that he was near to running. Not once did he look back. It was only when his form rounded a corner that she finally let the tears fall. How quickly everything had gone to ruin.
