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“Why do I have to walk away to have you? Men can have it all, why can’t we?” Cora demanded. Just weeks ago, Manuela wouldn’t have had an answer. Had it not been for the world she’d found through Cora, had she not seen the light, the fearlessness in the eyes of those women she’d met, Manuela would’ve had nothing to counter with. But she knew now. Cora had shown her.
“Men only have it all by being willing to take from others. To ruin lives, to oppress. For you to have it all, you’d have to do the same. If you continue to lean into the fantasy that you can prove yourself as their equal, you will destroy yourself.”
“But how will I protect us? How I will I protect you?” Cora sounded lost, and Manuela wanted more than anything to go to her, but this was much too important to leave anything unsaid.
“I don’t need protection from the opinions of morally bankrupt people. Not from the men willing to ravage anything in their path to feed their greed, and not from the women who turn a blind eye to it to protect themselves.” Suddenly everything that had always felt so nebulous for Manuela, about her life, her purpose, seemed to come into perfect clarity. “I was going to be one of those women. My mother has been one for so long she can’t see she’s bartered herself away in the process. But that is not what I want. We don’t have to be pawns in this game anymore, Cora.”
“I am not a pawn,” Cora said bristling, her old defenses coming back to the surface. “I play to win. Always.”
“But it is not your game, my love.” Manuela was not letting either one of them escape the truth of what they faced. “The only reason you are allowed to play is because they can use you. Admitting you are their equal would mean having to share their power, and they will never do that,” she pushed, expecting Cora to deny her words, but she didn’t. She only stood there. “You’ve told me yourself they only let you in the room because you make them money. Why do you measure yourself against a ruler that was built to strike you down, Corazón?”
“I’ve spent ten years building this, Manuela. I can’t just walk away from it.” Tears were streaming down Cora’s face now. She’d wondered what the implacable Duchess of Sundridge would look like when she cried. She’d imagined it to be a dignified, muted thing. A single tear rolling down her cheek, a slight reddening of the eyes, but this was soul-wrenching despair. A woman at her breaking point yet still desperately holding on to her old life.
She should’ve walked away then, left Cora to her misery, but instead she reached for her, clasped her shoulders and kissed her with the full force of her love and her frustration, until they both cried out in pain. A bruising, punishing thing that hurt as much as it breathed life into her. Agony sliced through her chest as her lover’s hands clutched the bridal lace of Manuela’s dress. Manuela licked into the mouth that she craved more than water. Inhaled the scent of bergamot and sorrow clinging to skin that she’d learned like a treasure map.Mine. Mine. Mine.
“I love you. I think I will always love you, but I won’t be with you if you can’t give up this world that makes you miserable,” Manuela said, breathless, misery almost tumbling her to the ground.
“I don’t want to lose you,” Cora begged, anguish brimming in every word. Manuela sobbed, even as she moved in to bite Cora’s bottom lip. She let her hands roam over Cora, shoulders, breasts, hips, and she pressed a palm to that triangle between her thighs that Manuela could draw from memory.
You belong to me. Fight for us,she wanted to say. But instead she kissed Cora again. Held her tight until the other woman whimpered. I love you, she thought, almost more than I love myself.
You are now so deeply etched into the bone and muscle that hold me up, I don’t know how I will stand, how I will walk, without you.
She wanted to rage at Cora, at her parents, at Felix, at the men who made this world so wretched, so cruel. So devoid of compassion. A world that made Cora believe the only way to live was to hoard power. To play games that only reaped destruction. But she knew it was useless. She couldn’t make Cora close the door on that world. She had to do it herself.
With excruciating effort she made herself pull away and left the room even as Cora’s fingers tried to hold on to her.
“Are you all right?” Aurora asked as Manuela stepped out into the hallway. Her friend who never quite understood her but was still there to pick up the pieces. Tears streamed down her face as a strong arm came around her waist. “Where do you want to go, Leona?”
“Anywhere but here.”
Twenty-Five
Cora was still standingoutside the church, somewhat dazed, and not in the mood for conversation. She recognized the Earl of Darnick, who had been, as far as she could tell, assisting Manuela and her friend Aurora with their departure.
“This was not what I expected when I arrived this morning, but I am pleased to see that South Americans are just as melodramatic on foreign soil as they are in their motherlands.” For all the mockery in his tone, she saw the worry in his eyes. The tightness around his mouth as he took in her state, which she could not imagine was any better than the disastrous one she’d started the day in.
“What do you want, Darnick? To ridicule me?” she asked, then made the mistake of looking down at herself, and a hysterical laugh escaped her lips. “I’ve done that quite well myself, as you can see, and clearly for nothing.” She would not cry in front of him, but it was beyond her to appear anything other than wrecked.
“Why don’t I take you home?” The gentle tone he used stung worse than if he had continued to mock her. “I used your carriage to send Miss Caceres Galvan’s parents home. As you may imagine, they were not quite themselves.”
She just stared at him. She didn’t care about her carriage. She cared about where Manuela had gone but knew the answer she’d likely get. “I heard him making threats,” Cora said, feeling the blood come back to her veins if only enough to battle the man Manuela almost married.
“She and Aurora are going somewhere safe for now. I’ve made that little shitbag aware of how poorly things will go for him if he goes anywhere near either of them,” Apollo assured her, his face tight with fury.
“I need to make sure that man can’t touch her.” All she’d done was make things worse. “He’s going to want his money back, and I won’t let him come after her for it. This is all my fault.”
“I won’t disagree that Felix will likely make himself a nuisance if he’s not taken care of swiftly.” Apollo gave Cora a funny look but nodded in agreement. “But none of that will be resolved in front of this church.”
“I need to settle whatever he thinks he’s owed,” Cora told him, remembering the man’s words at the altar. “It’s the least I can do, after what I did today.” And the one thing she could do for Manuela. Make sure she could start her future with a clean slate. Cora covered her face with her hands and swallowed her tears.
“It is an unholy mess,” Apollo said, then grimaced and quickly added, “No offense intended.” He looked like he expected a priest to jump out of the shadows with holy water. “The good news is that we’re rich and can at least solve some of the trouble we make for ourselves with our money.”
“Manuela doesn’t want my money,” Cora told him, numb and hollow. “She doesn’t want anything from me.”
“That was abundantly clear to me when she left without you, Your Grace.”
“I don’t like you,” Cora said, sniffling as she ran the back of her hand under her nose. If Blanchet and the others could see her now.
