The Wedding Affair (Rebel Hearts 1)

“Ruin your life? That is rich, coming from you,” she shouted. “You were the one who made the fool of me, not him. You ruined me, or have you forgotten?”

“I have not forgotten. How could I?” He stopped a foot away and drew in a deep breath.

In the dark she was reminded of their last night together, and her knees went weak. “Do not come any closer, or, or…”

“I was here first,” he complained, and then he looked her up and down. “I have it on good authority from several reliable sources you still want me dead, but it seems you forgot to bring a sword with which to run me through. So sorry the French could not oblige you during battle, but I will wait if you would like to arm yourself now.”

She took a pace back. “I never expected to see you again.”

“Neither did I.” He crossed his arms over his chest and glared. “If you are going to kill me, please start now.”

She took another step back. “I hate you.”

“So I gathered.” He glanced around. “Well, if you are not ready to commit murder upon me, you should go back inside before your mother or sister comes looking for you.”

“Do not dare tell me what to do,” Sally hissed, furious that he appeared so untouched by her presence. “The days when your good opinion means something have long since passed.”

He smiled and took a pace toward her. “I see you have nurtured your temper nicely.”

“Oh, shut up and wipe that bloody smirk off your face.” Sally gritted her teeth at the language she had used. She should not lose her temper with him so much that the thoughts in her head slipped out. In a moderate tone she continued, “You were always too certain of your appeal.”

“I am angry with you too.” He cocked his head to the side but kept a distance. “How could you think I could take you to bed and care so little for your future happiness?”

Oh, this was too much. She threw up her hands. “You would take anyone to bed if they helped advance your cause or career, and we both know it.”

He laughed then, full and heartily, as if she had told the most outrageous joke he had ever heard. “And who do you think might have held more sway over my career than your own blessed family?”

“Lady Heathcote. Lady Windermere now,” she ground out. What man did not know the name of whom he was consorting with? “Or do you not care that she is a married woman?”

Felix advanced on her

suddenly until he towered over her. “Say one word against my friend and you will regret it.”

She blinked at the venom in his voice. “Everyone knows you call on her and why.”

“Esme had a great number of acquaintances in London, and before her marriage received many callers, your grandfather included when he was younger and spry.” He sighed. “Are you suggesting she entertained them all just to advance my career? What utter rubbish.”

She shook her head quickly. Her complaints were only against Felix. “I never meant to disparage her reputation.”

“Well, I know for a fact thanks to her last letter that she is deliriously happy being married to Windermere.”

“She wrote to you?” Sally had heard enough. “One of your many letters from paramours, I am sure.”

She spun on her heel, but Felix wrapped his fingers around her upper arm and tugged her to his side. “There is no need to be jealous, sweetheart.”

Fury spun round and round her head. “I am not jealous, you grasping libertine.”

His fingers flexed around her arm. “Esme last wrote to give me her new directions and to share the news she was expecting a babe. Who the devil has been filling your head with nonsense about Esme anyway? I am hardly ever on land to have done as much as you have already claimed.”

“My connections in society keep me well informed.” She wrenched her arm from his grip but continued to feel where he had held her.

He swore roundly, showing little care that his coarse words were offensive to a proper lady’s ears. “I hate to burst your delusions, but your so-called friends are damned liars.” Felix shook his head. “About so many things that do not matter to anyone but your father.”

Her father was many things, but she could not believe he would deliberately mislead her. He protected her and had rebuilt her tattered trust. “Leave my father out of this.”

“Blinded by loyalty to family still,” he growled. “I do not know why I should have cared what you thought of me all these years. It is clear you are the only one who cannot see what he does to further his own purse and ambition.”

He turned away and stalked off into the darkness.