Page 64 of When the Scoundrel Sins

“You need that money for America,” she whispered. The weight sinking back onto her slender shoulders was crushing, and she had no idea how she kept from falling to the floor beneath it.

He repeated firmly, “I have enough money, Annabelle. You won’t have to marry.”

“No, I won’t let you.” If her heart hadn’t already broken, his offer would have made it sing. Instead, grief blackened her insides. “Your dream is America, and I want that for you.”

“Damnation, Belle—”

“No!” she choked out. “And please,don’tmention it again.” Dear God, she couldn’t have borne it! To come so close, only to have all hope dashed once more…Any more would end her.

They arrived back to Lady Ainsley, and their argument fell silent. Yet she could tell from the glint in his eyes that this discussion was far from over.

But once midnight came and she made her announcement, it would no longer matter.

“Are you all right, dear?” Lady Ainsley frowned with concern and gave her hand a motherly squeeze.

Belle nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

“Quinton.” Lady Ainsley narrowed her gaze on him. Instead of recrimination, though, Belle thought she heard a touch of pleased admiration in the viscountess’s voice as she scolded, “Do you often go about stealing waltzes?”

“It wasn’t much of a theft,” he joked, but Belle could tell that his heart wasn’t in it. After all, she knew his teasing ways better than anyone. “After all, I brought her back.”

When what Belle wanted was to run away together. What was left of her heart burned like brimstone in her hollow chest.

“Imp,” Lady Ainsley chastised him for forcing his way into the waltz…or was it for bringing her back? Belle couldn’t be certain of anything as the grief of losing him threatened to engulf her. Then the viscountess turned to Belle, and her features softened. “You’ll need to make the announcement soon. Will you be able to do it?”

“Yes,” she whispered, wishing she could have been more resolved. Instead, dread seeped through her. She felt cold and feverish in turns, and she would have cast up her accounts right there if she hadn’t already been so upset that she hadn’t been able to eat anything all evening. With each heartbeat, every inch of her seemed to be screaming out for her to say no, to flee…to save herself.

Hell.She’d been cast into hell. And there was no way out.

“Whom will you choose?” Lady Ainsley asked quietly, her eyes drifting to Quinn.

Now that the moment was finally arriving, Belle still couldn’t bring herself to put voice to it, as if speaking it made it real. But what choice did she have? Lose the only real home she’d ever had, or…“I’ll marry Sir Harold,” she breathed out, “if I must.”

Through the watery tears she no longer bothered to hide, Belle saw Quinn stiffen, then silently turn and walk away. He left the ballroom, slipping out through the open terrace doors into the dark gardens.

Then the crowd swarmed in to offer more good wishes and congratulations, separating her from Lady Ainsley, smothering her. The noise rose and swirled through her head, somehow both numbing and sickening at the same time. She felt as if she were falling away, with no one to stop her fall…

No one but Quinn. Just as he’d been trying to do since he arrived.

The truth slammed into her like lightning, so fiercely that it ripped her breath away, and a soft cry fell from her lips—

She could never pledge her life to a man she didn’t love. Not even to save Glenarvon.

She’d been wrong, soverywrong! How foolish had she been to think she could find happiness by marrying only for her inheritance? How would she not cringe whenever her husband touched her? Or stop the relentless tears if he never came to understand how much her home meant to her, even after she’d sacrificed her life, heart, and soul for it? How could the home she loved not become a prison in the face of all that?

Certainly, ladies married for fortune and property all the time, without a care toward love. But she wasn’t one of those ladies. Not in men’s work clothes, with her books and evening swims. Never had been, andneverwould be.

In that heartbeat of clarity, she realized what she wanted, what shehadto do—

God help her.She chose Quinton.

With her frantic heart pounding so hard that the rush of blood in her ears was deafening, she pushed through the crowd and ran outside into the night after him.

***

Quinn bit out a savage curse as he stalked to the far end of the walled garden to lose himself in the shadows. But even all the way out here, he could still hear the party, muffled and distant, yet loud enough to plague him.

Damnation.He ran a shaking hand through his hair.