He winced. She had him there. “But your sisters…they need—”
Once again, she did not allow him to finish. “Do not pretend this was about my sisters.”
He pushed off the wall he’d been leaning on. No. It hadn’t really. “I wanted to prove my worth.”
She snorted. “Exactly. You wanted to prove something, but you left me here to worry and I hate that more than anything. I’ve explained to you why that is so.”
She stopped a few feet in front of him, her arms crossing, and her chin angled up as she continued to glare.
“I didn’t mean to—”
Her mouth dropped open. “You didn’t mean to what? Do the one thing I asked you not to do? You went off to see the king, no less. A job Bash was handling and then gallivanted to the docklands on a covert mission to see the very man who tried to kill us yesterday—”
This time, he interrupted, irritation coursing down his spine. “Now you’re worried about your own safety? You’ve been reckless, running headlong into danger since I first met you.”
“That is my job in this family.” Her voice was rising. “Since I was a child, I did all the things a father would do because he wasn’t there to do them. I taught my sisters to climb trees, to fish in the country, I stood up to bullies, I ran headlong into danger to keep them from harm. It’s my job to keep them safe. I thought you understood, I won’t be a woman who sits at home and waits and worries. Not ever again.”
He stepped closer. “I’ve allowed you to go on several of these—”
“Allowed?” she yelled over him. “You’ve allowed me?” She stepped closer and without warning gave him a hard push in the chest. He took a half step back steadying himself. “That’s what is so infuriating. I don’t need you to allow me…I have always been perfectly capable. And I don’t need to do it alone, but you’re not supposed to either. We’re supposed to be a team.”
He winced, realizing that his word choice had been poor. “Eliza. I know that. I wasn’t trying to act unilaterally. I just wanted—”
“But you did. Act on your own. And I cannot marry a man who wished to leave me at home to wait and to worry while he rushes headlong into danger.”
What the hell did that mean? “You’re not—”
“I am.” She stood straighter. “I would like to dissolve our arrangement.”
He reached out to her, but she took a step back. “But—” He looked up at Bash. Pain was lancing through his chest. She couldn’t just end it, but she was.
He could say the words. That he’d compromised her last night. Bash would force the match. But even he understood how awful it would be to start a marriage like that. So instead, he dropped his hand. “I tried to warn you.”
“Warn me of what?”
“I always do exactly the wrong thing,” he said so quietly, that he wasn’t even certain he’d uttered the words out loud. “My parents would tell you if they could. I find a way to muck up every relationship with my own actions.”
Her eyes widened as she stilled. “That isn’t…” But then she trailed off.
“It is,” he replied. “And it’s all right. I know it’s my fault. The truth is, I just wanted to prove my worth to you. Help you save your sisters and clear a path for our own adventures. It was selfish of me. I know. I’m a selfish bastard. My mother would tell you that too.”
She brought her hands up to cover her mouth, her eyes crinkling in pain at the corners. “Dylan.”
But whatever else she was going to say was cut off as yet another visitor arrived.
A well-dressed young lady came flying down the hall in a flurry of skirts, the butler following close behind. “Madame,” he called. “You must wait for an audience.”
“I cannot,” the woman cried.
“Avery?” Eliza asked, her brow furrowing. “What’s the matter?”
Avery skidded to a stop. That’s when Dylan realized she had the same rich brown hair and chocolate eyes as all the Carrington sisters. “Oh, Eliza.” The girl reached for Eliza, collapsing into her arms as she trembled, tears shining in her eyes. “It’s Papa.”
“What happened?” Eliza stepped up and embraced the other woman. “What’s wrong with Uncle Malcolm?”
A sob ripped from the other woman’s lips. “He’s dead.”
Chapter Seventeen