“Unnecessary sentiment?” she repeated, the incredulity in her voice giving way to a sharp edge. “Is that all it was to you? A transaction of physical convenience?”
Killian hesitated, the faintest flicker of discomfort passing over his features.
“It need not be more than that,” he said finally.
Yvette’s breath hitched, her chest tightening as a dull ache settled in her heart.
“I see,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Then I was a fool, after all.”
His lips parted as if to respond, but she did not wait for him. Instead, she turned her gaze to the floor, her posture stiff as though bracing herself against further indignity.
“You are quite right,Your Grace. Simplicity is best.”
She curtsied, the movement stiff but practiced, and without waiting for his response, turned and walked toward the door. Her hand trembled as it rested on the handle, but she did not falter.
Before leaving, she paused and turned to him, her voice measured.
“You may keep things uncomplicated, Killian. But you should not expect the same courtesy from me.”
With that, she stepped through the doorway, her back straight and her chin lifted, even as her heart splintered within her chest.
CHAPTER 20
“Your Grace, you called for me?” Daisy’s bright and curious eyes filled Yvette’s face; a stark contrast to her dull ones.
Yvette sat by the large window in the drawing room, the gentle warmth of the late afternoon sun filtering through the curtains.
The rustle of her knitting needles had ceased due to Daisy’s appearance, and she put them down on her lap. She was working on a pair of socks, something simple, as a gift for Maisie. But she’d been slow because the conversation with Killian from earlier kept invading her thoughts, swirling around in her head, and impossible to ignore.
Yvette nodded at her maid, clearing her throat before she spoke.
“I’d like some ginger tea, with mint leaves in it,” she instructed, and Daisy cocked her head slightly to the side.
“Are you quite well, Your Grace?” Daisy asked and Yvette nodded, placing a slight smile on her lips as though to prove a point.
But deep down, she felt unwell.
She never expected Killian to propose what he had. The idea that their physical relationship could remain just that—purely physical—was a shock to her.
A part of her wanted to rage at him for the cold, detached way he had presented it, but another part of her couldn’t deny the truth in his words.
Perhaps it was for the best, she thought.
After all, their marriage had never been about love. It had been about duty, about obligation. And while she might have desired more, it seemed that she could not force him to feel something he did not.
Yvette sighed as her mind returned to the moment they had shared the night before. How his hands had felt on her, how his voice had been both commanding and tender at the same time. She had never known that side of him, never imagined he could be so… gentle.
The contradiction between his behavior toward her now and the man who had been so distant in the beginning was disorienting. She had wanted him then, yes, but now, more than ever,she wanted him to take charge, to take her in his arms and overwhelm her.
Lifting her eyes, she noticed Daisy still standing, waiting there as if to receive another instruction.
“That will be all, Daisy.”
As Daisy left, Yvette picked up the socks and the knitting pins, still lost in thought about the night they’d had.
She had been angry when she left him earlier, angry and confused. Yvette had stormed out of the room, leaving him behind in her room, forcing herself to leave just before she pressed her lips against his.
The very thought of it now made her cheeks flush, a hum of frustration pooling in her chest. What had stopped her? What had kept her from giving in to the desire that had been building between them? She didn’t know. But it was too late for regrets now.