“Save a dance for Lord Grimm. I’m sure he’ll be itching to waltz with you.”
“Of course.” Sofia curtsied while Hunter bowed and quit the room.
Too close. He was too close to finding out the truth, and, in all the weeks she’d been attending the Seasons festivities, she still hadn’t a clue as to who Lord Grimm was! Every time she’d heard the whispers and had seen people pointing, she’d turn and see none other than Ash standing by her side, blocking the way! The man never moved, never let her see who everyone seemed keen on discussing. But perhaps that was his way of protecting her from making a horrid match. After all, the stories of Lord Grimm had worsened by the week.
First, he’d been simply dangerous and mysterious.
Next, he had been a murderer.
Finally, they’d said he had tried to kill a woman, only to point the gun at himself once he’d succeeded.
Rumors, all of them, but still, she had to wonder, if they were true, why did people still allow him into the balls? Why didn’t they shun him completely from society?
Hunter was in for a surprise when Lord Grimm denied ever knowing her, but one thing she did know for certain about London gentlemen: more often than not, they chose politeness over anything else. So she could at least count on English manners to save her the embarrassment of Hunter discovering her lie.
She stared at the door, not wanting to go through it for fear that time would go quicker. She needed to ready herself for the ball, and the last thing she wanted to do was to ready herself for another dance that she knew would end with her searching for Ash, needing to be in his arms.
The same door she was staring down opened.
Ash stepped through and shut it quietly behind him.
No words were spoken; he simply strode toward her, lifted her in his arms, and met her mouth with a frenzied passion she’d never experienced in her life… until him.
“I was worried,” he whispered against her mouth. “One of your guard said you’d disappeared.” He set her on her feet and stepped back. “Always tell me where you are.”
“My guard should know I’m perfectly safe.” Sofia folded her arms across her chest. “Besides, they are more of a hindrance than a help.”
Ash snorted. “Believe me, I know. Just earlier today I had to move Samson from the hall because he damn-near fell asleep on his own gun.”
Sofia covered her mouth.
“He’s unharmed, and I removed the ammunition so he wouldn’t hurt himself.” He looked heavenward. “It’s all right to laugh. I did, once the crisis was averted.”
“I’m sorry they’ve been such a bother. I know Dominique is ready to strangle Cornelius, as he won’t stop following him around.”
“Hero worship.” Ash nodded. “Are you sure you’re feeling well? We don’t need to attend the ball tonight.”
His concern warmed her heart, making her want to ask the question, but she was still too afraid of his rejection.
“Ash…”
“Yes?”
“Kiss me?”
“Demanding little princess.”
“Only with my soldier.”
Ash smiled, his green eyes flashing as he gently pulled her back into his arms and took possession of her mouth. His tongue was warm; his mouth tasted of cinnamon. She clung to his body, afraid to let go.
“I cannot be without you,” she whispered.
“And I cannot change the stars.” Ash’s face shadowed for a brief instant, and he stepped back. “Now, shall I send Ana up to help you ready for the ball?”
Dismissed, Sofia could only nod and agree.
She had her answer.
He cared for her.
He might even love her.
But not enough to fight — or to even try to find another way out of the predicament she was in.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
I have made my own bed. Now I must lie in it. —The Grimm Reaper
ASH FOUGHT WITH GUILT the entire way to the ball. Dominique and Isabelle accompanied them, which naturally meant that the rest of the Royal Guard felt it their royal duty to protect the entire family.
It was an utter disaster. One fell asleep walking — yes, walking — to the carriage, while the other sneezed so loud it scared the horses into rearing up and causing the footman to tumble to the ground.
The only bright moment of the evening came when Sofia descended the stairs in a snow-white gown, her entire face aglow with excitement, her lips ripe for the tasting.
Ash had stared, and stared, and stared, never gaining his fill. She was perfection. And for now, she was his and only his.
He loved her.
He knew he loved her. He simply didn’t wish to ruin her life by confessing it. Loving her was akin to loving the stars; one simply didn’t confess then demand they fall to the ground and shatter into a million pieces. No, when one loved someone that wondrous, one kept her away from the fall, away from the darkness.
He had four days left of her passion.
Four days to share his soul with her.
And in four days, he had promised Hunter he’d seek out a doctor to gain a diagnosis he already knew to be true. For the pain had passed from something annoying to debilitating over the last few weeks. The mornings were the worst, when his muscles would be so sore that he was unable to move for several minutes upon waking.
Even now, his chest throbbed. His arm ached.
He flexed his hand and grimaced.
Sofia placed her glove on his and quickly removed it, her way of showing her support, comfort, encouragement. Bloody hell, he was going to be an absolute mess without her.
Then again, if things were progressing as he assumed, he wouldn’t live long enough anyway. The suffering would be short-lived. And that made him feel guilty because he knew she would suffer too, and it would be his fault.
The carriage ride was too short, just like Ash’s grasp on reality, for he desperately wanted to live in a fairytale world where he could simply kidnap the princess and live happily ever after.
“Oh, it’s beautiful!” Isabelle gushed. “Sofia, I’ll have to introduce you to Lady Renwick. You’ll adore her!”
“I look forward to it.” Sofia touched Ash’s leg, just slightly, enough to let him know she’d look for him later. She followed Isabelle out of the carriage. The women quickly walked up the stairs while Ash lingered.
“I hope you don’t mind me saying…” Dominique grimaced. “…but, Ash, you look horrible.”
“Thank you.” Ash swore under his breath. “I’m simply… not enjoying all the balls.”
“Well, I have good news then!” Dominique slapped him on the back. “It seems my cousin has made a choice.”
“Truly?” Ash suddenly felt the need to throw his countenance all over the stairs. “She has said as much?”
“Not to me…” Dominique elbowed him. “…but I see it in her eyes. It helps that Hunter stopped by earlier. He was very convincing.”
“Remind me to thank him.” Ash ground his teeth together; he was going to murder his brother. It was as simple as that.
“I wouldn’t go thanking him just yet…” Something flashed in Dominique’s eyes before he shrugged and looked away. “…but I imagine it is for the best. She needs to marry after all.”
“Yes.” Ash couldn’t find one enthusiastic cell in his entire body, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything save stare at the space in front of him and imagine Sofia filling it.
“The Royal Prince Maskylov and Lord Grimm!” The announcement jolted Ash out of his daze.
“What the devil!” Ash swore a blue streak. “They are never to announce that name!”
Dominique shrugged. “Perhaps it is time to.”
Ash huffed, irritated that he had the attention of every single lady within attendance, every lady but Sofia, who was just now weaving through the crowds, her attention on the stairs.
At least now she knew.
The lie was over.
The battle lost.<
br />
She would hate him forever.
The apology was just on his lips when Sofia appeared in front of him. “Drat!”
“I’m sorry?”
“Is he still here?” She peered around Ash.
“Whom are we discussing?” He braced her shoulders.
She stomped her foot. “Lord Grimm!”
“Sofia?”
“Well?” She placed her hands on her hips. “Is he in attendance?”
Ash’s eyes narrowed. “He is.”
“I must speak to him!”
“Why?”
“I’m afraid I cannot tell you that…”
Ash rolled his eyes. “I believe you can.”
“It’s too… embarrassing.”
Ash grinned. “Having fantasies about the fallen hero, are you?”
Sofia blushed. Her eyebrows arched. “I’m afraid I’m too busy living out my fantasies. I’m afraid I have no more storage left for such thoughts…”
“Damn, I could kiss you right now,” Ash whispered, his lips nearing hers. “I wish to take you in as many ways as my creative genius can conjure up… and I wish to do it in front of every bloody man in this room so he knows who you belong to.”
“Finally claiming me?” she teased.
Ash knew it was improper, knew that if they were caught, it would be the end of her future, but he could not help himself. So, in a crowded room, a crush full of people, he leaned in to whisper in her ear, his tongue licking its way around the curve. “I’ll damn well claim you right here. Right now. Just say the word.”
“My, my!” Pierce’s voice sounded from behind Ash.
Already painfully aroused, he was ready to pull his pistol on his friend. Instead, he forced a smile and reared back. “Ah, bane of my existence, how do you fare?”
“Better.” Pierce held out his hand to Sofia. “Shall we dance?”
“Her card is full,” Ash said through clenched teeth.
“Impossible.” Pierce tsked. “I see at least two blank spots.” He reached for the card and winked at Ash. “Never fear, Mother. I’ll return her just as pure as I found her.”
That was what Ash was afraid of, for she was pure — only barely, and that was because he couldn’t find it within himself to take her virginity. He wanted to — desperately — but he couldn’t do it.
“You look like you could use a drink.” Hunter handed Ash a glass of wine and sighed. “Lovely, it seems Pierce is smitten.”
“Pierce is smitten on a daily basis. Just yesterday, he gazed that same way at his horse then burst into tears. He was foxed, but nonetheless, Pierce is… harmless.”
“Hmm...” Hunter took a sip of wine. “…if you say so.”
Pierce whispered something in Sofia’s ear. She laughed, and he pulled her closer.
“Yes, harmless,” Hunter said dryly. “So harmless I can feel the anger radiating off you. Tell me, is your pistol loaded?”
“Did you need something?”
“An announcement.” Hunter grinned. “It seems Dominique cannot wait a second longer. Perhaps you should rescue the princess before Pierce decides he wants to pluck her from your grasp.”
“She isn’t in my grasp.”
“The hell she isn’t.” Hunter chuckled and lifted his glass in cheers.
Ash weaved through the crowd. The dance ended just as he reached her.
The music stopped, and Dominique walked to the front of the room. He stood on the fourth or fifth stair with Hunter by his side.
The men commanded the room, the power and money between the two damn-near choking the life out of Ash, making him feel that much more unworthy to be at Sofia’s side. He was nothing like his brother, nothing like Dominique. Simply a second son, titled, rich, but what set him apart? Nothing, just bloodstained hands.
“I have an announcement of felicitations!” Dominique beamed, a rarity for the beastly man. “It seems my cousin has finally met her match!”
Hunter grinned at Ash.
Ash’s legs went weak. So this was it. She’d made her choice and failed to tell him.
“I haven’t…” Sofia said through clenched teeth. “You must do something! You must!”
But Ash knew he couldn’t.
Not without causing a scandal. So he stood a bit closer, offering his body as comfort as much as he could without pulling her into his arms. His entire demeanor shook with rage, anger, and sadness — a lot of sadness.
“Let us raise our glasses to Princess Sofia Maskylov and her affianced…” Ash swayed on his feet. “…Lord Grimm!”
Cheers erupted.
Ash’s mouth dropped open while Sofia covered hers. Stunned, Ash could only stand still, hot and cold, while Sofia shook her head to him and mouthed, “Sorry.”
She had no idea how sorry he was about to be.
She was apologizing now.
She was sad… for now.
In a few minutes, she would be livid and heartbroken, for she’d know his lie… and it would wreck her from the inside out. How could Hunter? And Dominique? How?
“Well!” Dominique clapped. “I’d like to dedicate this next waltz to the new couple.”
The music began to play.
Sofia looked around the crowds, most likely for Lord Grimm.
Shaking, Ash turned to Sofia and gripped her hands.
“What are you doing?” Her smile showed her fear. “If Lord Grimm sees you touching me, then…” She shook her head.
Ash said nothing, simply brought her into his arms and began the dance.
People watched, smiles plastered on their faces, all deliriously happy for the couple… for them.
Sofia’s smile was forced, her eyes still anxiously darting around the room. Her forehead puckered, and then, the moment happened. The moment where she realized the great betrayal. Her back went completely straight, her face ashen, and when she lifted her eyes to meet Ash’s, it was wasn’t anger or even betrayal he saw…. but such a deep sadness he’d rather pluck out his own heart on a daily basis than ever see such a look again.
He had thought he was protecting her heart.
But by protecting her — he had unknowingly broken it.
His fault.
Again.
For a broken heart was just like death — and he’d been the one to cause it.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
What have I done? —The Grimm Reaper
NO. IT COULDN’T BE. Sofia begged for a man to step out of the crowd and claim his name as Lord Grimm, but the minute she met Ash’s guilty face, she knew. She knew the truth.
He was Lord Grimm.
He was the elusive mysterious man everyone talked about in hushed tones.
And they were to be married.
She should be happy; she was going to marry Ash, after all. But happiness was the farthest thing from her mind.
He had lied to her!
She was willing to give up everything for him, and he’d lied! Was she that horrible? Was he that stubborn? Why? She tried to stay logical; there had to be a reason, but her heart wouldn’t allow logic to take a turn. There was no rationality about the pain in her chest or the choking sensation around her throat.
She loved him.
The music ended. Ash released her. People clapped.
And Sofia felt nothing.
Ash led her to the edge of the room and then down the dark hallway to a room.
He opened the door and ushered her in.
It locked behind them.
A library. A beautiful library with hundreds of books, but she could not appreciate the beauty. Too sick to say anything, she simply stood, head held high, waiting for his excuses.
“I should have told you...” His voice was weak, so unlike its typical deep timbre. “…but I—”
“I love you!” Sofia yelled. “Do you know that?”
Ash took a step backward while Sofia charged forward, pushing against his chest. “I love you.” Tears streamed down her face. “I love you more than my country… mo
re than my people. You let me fall in love with you! But I don’t even know who you are!”
“Sofia—”
“No!” Sofia pushed against his chest again, anger making her want to pound it until he hurt as bad as she did. “Do you truly think so little of me? That I would love you and marry another?”
Ash said nothing. He hung his head and cursed.
“I was giving it up.” Sofia pulled away.
“Giving what up?” Ash reached for her, but she jerked her hand out of his grasp. “Sofia?”
“My title…” Her lower lip quivered. “I was going to give up my title, my claim to the land, the riches, the people… I was going to tell Dominique tomorrow. You see…” She felt braver as she spoke. “…we are all given a choice, Ash… and you were mine.”
He tried reaching for her again, but she moved away.
“Sofia—” He choked out the word. “—I’m… not well.”
“I don’t care that you’re heartbroken.” Sofia shook her head. “I don’t care about your past, and it should never define your future. I know your heart is sad, but if you would have let me…” She smiled through her tears. “…if you would have let me, I would have tried my best every day of my life… to heal it.”
“You have no idea how sorry I am, Sofia… how much I wish I could take it back and tell you the truth from the beginning.”
“Would it have changed anything? Or would you still be running?”
“I don’t run.”
“You do,” Sofia argued. “You’re so afraid you can’t even breathe. It chokes you.” She lowered her head, her body feeling so heavy she thought she might faint. “I would have been your air.” Slowly she reached up and cupped his cheek. “I would have done anything to be with you until the end.”
“What are you saying?” Ash gripped her hands then forced his mouth against hers. His kiss was urgent, desperate.
“I think that should be obvious.” Sofia lowered her head. “I’m saying goodbye…”
“If you return to your country, you’ll die.”
“Then I die…” Sofia sobbed. “…but at least I won’t be running. I’ve seen what running does… I refuse to give in to the temptation to be weak when I have the opportunity to be brave.”