Images of Patrick unfolded. Of daring eyes and hands, of promises that were always broken. Of a troth that had led to mussed sheets and heartbreak, wandering eyes and dissatisfaction. Of a marriage that would not have taken place without the earl‟s interference—her name changed with the exchange of a few pounds of coin and pride.
She looked at the rose. The earl wouldn‟t clean up two mistakes like that, but for once she didn‟t feel the dread of the earl‟s wrath. It was her choice to make.
And Sebastien wasn‟t making promises. She knew where he stood.
It was the broken promises and betrayal that hurt the most. As long as she kept her heart strong, she could wave farewell when the tournament came to an end.
She had to believe that.
