The Jealous Love of a Scoundrel (The Marlow Intrigues) by Jane Lark Read Free Book Online Page B

his, and he had sent three posies this morning as always, with words begging for forgiveness on the cards. But then of course she could not read; perhaps she had just thrown away the cards with the flowers and not even asked anyone to read the words to her.
    Perhaps she really did not wish to see him.
    “What are you doing here?” she said as she stood.
    “I have come to apologise—”
    “Peter, I am on stage in half an hour.”
    “I know. I simply… I had to see you.”
    “Should you not be with your fiancée?”
    Damn, she knew. How did she know?
    “Did you think me too unintelligent to discover it simply because I cannot read a paper?”
    “Lillian…” He moved forward and tried to take her hand. She pulled it away.
    “I know it is naught to do with me. Your life outside this theatre is yours and I have no part in it, and yet…” She looked as though she shivered. “I do not want to play another woman falsely. I have some choices in my life, and I will not become an adulteress on your whim.” Her chin lifted in a gesture of defiance. “When are you to be married? Soon?”
    “The summer.” His hand, which had reached out to her and been rejected, fell. “I’m sorry,” he said again, because he did not know what else to say.
    “It is only what you all do. Men. I have known it, I simply forgot it with you.”
    A sigh escaped his lips as her teal eyes glowed, not with feeling, or pleasure, but with tears.
    “Lillian.” His hand lifted to cup her cheek, but she pushed it away.
    “No. We are finished. I have learned a new lesson with you. I cannot feel nothing for you but I will not share you with a woman who has a legal right to you. I will not be cruel to her, as you are.”
    He stared at her, still unsure how to respond. There was an offer in his breast pocket that would turn her life on its head. He had intended to give her enough money so she might live like a rich woman as his mistress. But he knew from her eyes if he offered that to her now she would tear it up and throw it in his face. Lillian had never bedded him for money. God, had he not known it, it was why things had felt so different with her.
    He swallowed against his dry throat; he did not know what else he might say to keep her. But then perhaps this was God casting judgement on him, keeping him on a path back to heaven and away from hell. This was how it ought to be. Lillian should be left to lead her life and he should lead his.
    “I did not mean to hurt you.” Damn. In the corridor he had just declared he did not hurt women and yet he had hurt Lillian, and he would hurt Emily too if she knew of this.
    “Do you know what hurts most? You took me to a hotel the night you had proposed to her, and you shared a bed with me, and acted as you always do, as though I was the world to you. It was all a lie, and this…” She gripped the locket that hung about her neck. “You gave me this the morning you went to her with your offer.” She pulled it hard and sharp and broke the chain, no matter that it must have hurt her neck.
    She held it out. “I do not want it. I do not need a lock of your hair. She should have it.”
    God. He was burning inside, dying, breaking. He did not take the necklace; he could not bring himself to take it back. He thought of that bloody trick and the ring that went on her finger and slid off three times.
    She threw the necklace at him. “Please, go, Lord Brooke, and sell your box in the theatre. I do not wish to see you again.”
    “I’m sorry,” he said for about the fourth time, and then he turned away. He was sorry for himself as much as her. He had been ready to give up his pride. He had wanted to keep her in his life. But it seemed a whore had higher morals than him.
    He walked through the hall with long, decisive strides. At least this was it. At least this was at an end. Now he could, and should, give all his energy and thoughts to Emily.
     
    ~
     
    He did not even wait until the morning but went to