“For the love of God, stop talking, wench.” A warning growl had entered Brand’s tone. His eye flashed gray fire. Never had she seen him so upset. “She’s lying, Elizabeth. I swear, I never bedded her.”
“Ha!” The barmaid sauntered toward her. “Better leave him be, miss. He’ll soon grow bored with you.” With a wink, she left the room.
Elizabeth cheeks were hot with humiliation and alternately fury. After everything she and Brand had shared together, this is how he would honor their bond? She trembled from embarrassment while images of his body wrapped around the barmaid’s filled her mind. “I can’t believe you would disrespect me like this,” she finally managed to whisper.
“I didn’t.” He shoved a hand through his hair, leaving it in disarray. “I swear to you on my father’s grave or a Bible if you have it handy, I didn’t lie with her and neither did I do anything to which she referred.”
“Did you kiss her?”
Guilt was stamped all over his face. “She attacked me when I entered the room. The second her lips touched mine, I tried to shove her away, untangle her from me, but she clung on like a demented octopus.” His were came so fast they tripped over each other.
Yes, he was a known rake, but over the course of their time together, she thought she’d come to know him. He’d certainly acted as if he were enamored of her. Perhaps the barmaid lied; the wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. Elizabeth softened toward him slightly, but he hadn’t answered her question. “Have you ever willingly kissed that woman after you and I were intimate… at any time?”
Please say no. Please say that you were faithful to me.
Desolation reflected in his eye. “Yes.” His whispered admission caused another few pieces of her heart to fall with a clatter. “I did kiss her, but that was before I knew—”
“Enough.” The shawl fell from her grasp as Elizabeth held up a hand. Tears crowded into her throat while her chest felt tight and ready to burst open. At least he was honest, yet that meant there was a chance he’d bedded the woman too. How many others? “I’ve heard enough.”
“Please believe me. I’ve never had intercourse with her.” His stricken expression tugged at her compassion. “Or let her do anything else carnal to me.” Would a man who lied be able to call forth such depth of emotion on command?
She had no idea. Perhaps it was a tool in a rake’s arsenal. With a hard swallow, Elizabeth shook her head. “I need to go. There is packing to finish.” Somehow, she turned away from him as all her dreams withered and died.
“Lizzy, please! None of this is what you think.”
“I thought you might have returned my feelings, that you would have declared yourself this evening. Instead, I’m trapped in a Drury Lane production with horrible actors.” Elizabeth ignored the plea, ignored the flutters in her belly from his use of the dear little nickname, ignored the pain, for there would be plenty of time to nurse her wounds on the passage to India. She walked out of the private dining room and didn’t look back.
What a naïve idiot I’ve been. Men never change.