Page 233 of Ten Lords for the Holidays

Eliana’s heart clutched. “He is? Are you certain?”

“Yes. My lady’s maid heard it from one of the servants at his mother’s house. He announced it last evening at dinner, apparently. I suppose he thinks to leave on a heroic note, as some people seem to believe he was involved in rescuing a drowning boy in Hyde Park the other day.”

“I’ve heard the same,” Eliana said. “Do you think it was him?”

Peony waved her hand. “No, it was some gentleman with black hair. But I heard you were there as well. Who is this mysterious fellow? You must tell me!”

“I shall, later.” Eliana kept her voice light. “How soon is Price Sebastian departing, do you know?”

The news made her feel as though she’d swallowed a large stone.

Which was foolish, since she’d told Prince Sebastian to keep his distance. But with the prospect of his departure looming, she suddenly realized she did not, after all, want him to completely disappear from her life.

She was attracted to him, she could not deny it. Yet he was not worthy of her affections… was he? Could she possibly forgive him for what he’d done to Peony?

Yes.

The realization was like a bell rung inside her. She must.

Eliana’s breath loosened in her chest, her thoughts unfurling like bright wings, ready to carry her dreams into reality. The cocoon had broken open, and she suddenly wanted to sing and dance in the middle of the slushy sidewalk.

Her sister had been right—it was better to forgive the man she suspected she loved than clutch bitterness to her heart and watch him sail away from her, forever.

“I believe the Ice Prince will be gone within the week,” Peony said. “And I won’t have to live with the fact that I… I mean, that he treated me so dreadfully.”

Her words struck Eliana, pieces clattering together in her mind to make a picture she’d refused to see before. Yet she should have guessed.

She halted in the middle of the walk and grabbed Peony’s arm.

Her friend gave her a concerned look. “Eliana, are you well?”

“No.” Eliana let out a brief, mirthless laugh. Her entire perspective had tilted, and she did not like it one bit. “I must ask you something, Peony. Do you promise to answer honestly?”

“Of course.” Peony set her hand over Eliana’s. “We’re bosom beaus. There are no secrets between us.”

Eliana took a deep breath. “Did Prince Sebastian actually say that he was going to ask you marry him the night of the Midwinter Masque?”

Peony’s face paled, and she dropped her hand from Eliana’s arm. “How could you ask me such a thing, after everything I’ve endured?”

“I know it pains you, and I’m sorry. But I must have an answer. Did the prince promise you a betrothal?”

Peony darted a glance at their friends, who had paused at a chestnut seller’s stand. The nutty aroma drifted through the air, mixing with the scent of smoke.

“We should catch up,” Peony said. “Wouldn’t a roast chestnut taste delicious?”

“You must tell me.” Eliana dug her boots into the slushy snow.

The clues had been there along, and she suddenly felt like a fool for accepting what she now suspected were nothing more than lies. The truth loomed like a wave, poised to crash over her.

“He was going to ask me,” Peony said, her voice strained. “I know he was.”

Eliana closed her eyes briefly as the wave broke, drenching her with the cold, unavoidable realization that everything she’d believed about Prince Sebastian was untrue. She didn’t need to forgive him—in fact, he should be the one to forgiveher.

She’d treated him most unfairly, and he’d said not a word in his own defense—because to do so would have damaged Peony’s reputation beyond repair. Instead, he’d taken the blame, withstood the barbed gossip, and endured being mocked as the Ice Prince.

Eliana had thought him a man of questionable honor, when all along he’d acted with the highest of motives. He was a gentleman indeed, and she had disdained him. The knowledge twisted inside her like a knife.

“So you lied?” she asked. “What did you hope to gain from it?”

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