Page 88 of Duke of Wickedness
“Nothing is wrong,” he said in that same bizarrely neutral way. “I expected that you would come. It’s good, really. We should talk, now that our arrangement has come to an end.”
It took her a beat to really understand his words. They were spoken in the king’s English, but, for a moment, they felt foreign.
“An end,” she echoed. Her voice sounded very distant to her own ears.
The gentleness in his expression now felt rather like a punch to the gut.
“I’ve shown you all you wanted to see,” he said simply. “There’s nothing more for me to show you. That makes this a natural time for us to part ways.”
Ariadne felt her cheeks begin to burn. It was hard to put a name to what she was feeling, because really, even in her most fantastical moments, she’d nevertrulylost sight of the fact that this thing with David was temporary. So, she wasn’t precisely surprised, and it wasn’t as though she felt betrayed. They’d agreed to this from the start.
At worst, she could accuse him of being a little impolitic with his timing—it wasn’t terribly tactful of him to cut ties immediately after they’d gone to bed together.
But it certainly wasn’t unfair, either. This was what they had agreed upon from the start. She kept reminding herself of that. She had to, lest the blush that flamed on her face turn into some other, more humiliating reaction.
Still, though. Every instinct inside her urged her to rebel against his dictate.
“We don’t have to,” she pointed out, pleased when her words came out level and not desperate. An absolutely awful thought occurred to her. “That is… Unless you didn’t like it?”
The derisive snort he let out was too genuine to be disbelieved.
“I assure you,” he said seriously, “that is not at all why. You were marvelous, and I sincerely hope you know that. Youaremarvelous,” he amended, and she remembered all the times that he’d spoken so sincerely about having respect for the people he bedded, how he loathed anyone who criticized women for seeking pleasure. It hadn’t occurred to her that his good regard could cut like a knife.
“But,” he went on in that same awful, awful neutral way, “we are still seeking different things. You plan to marry, and I do not. We are still the same people as we were when we began.”
Ariadne was positive thatthatwas not true, not for her, at least, but the ways in which she’d changed weren’t material right now. She did still plan to marry—eventually.
“You realize that I haven’t got some suitor waiting in the wings for the moment we are finished,” she argued. “I’m still going to Society events—you’ve seen me at Society events. You aren’t the thing that’s stopping me from finding a husband.”
It was so fast that she almost missed it, but she could have sworn that he flinched. This put another horrifying idea in her head.
“That isn’t—you don’t mean to say—do you think that I’m trying totrapyou?” she stammered, aghast.
David, for his part, looked equally shocked and appalled.
“No!” he said at once. Then, a little more calmly. “No, Ariadne, of course not.” He looked away for a moment, pausing as if gathering his thoughts.
“You’ve done nothing wrong,” he said, sounding as though he meant it. “Nothing has gone wrong.” He sounded less certain about this part, and Ariadne seized upon it.
“Then why?” she asked. “Why shouldn’t we keep enjoying ourselves? I… I have had the most wonderful time with you, and I can’t imagine finding someone else whom I trust more.”
It seemed to cost him to keep looking at her, and suddenly, Ariadne began to feel very small and very, very pathetic.
Because no, she couldn’t find another man like David, someone whom she could trust to show her all the things she remained curious about, someone whom she could rely upon to remain discreet, someone whom she knew would not judge her.
But he could find plenty more women like her. He could find plenty of curious women who had questions they wanted answered. He could find confident women who had experience, who had practice in all the things that Ariadne didn’t. He could have whomever he wanted.
But not her. There was one person she wanted, and she could not have him.
The unfairness of it all burned, and a very distant part of her realized that this turn toward anger was a defense against hurt, but she welcomed it anyway, because no matter what, shewould not crywhile he could see her.
“It’s for the best, Ariadne,” he said, looking regretful but immovable. “The longer things like this go on, the more complicated they become. It wouldn’t be fair to take the risk—not to either of us, but especially to you. It’s better that we just walk away before…”
He trailed off; it was the first moment of uncertainty he’d shown all evening, and Ariadne had the gutting realization thatit was because he needed to stop himself from saying something insulting.
Before you become too involved, he might have said.
Or, before you forget that this was all just a fun diversion for me.
