CHAPTER 22

THE CRASH OF THE DOOR sounded like cannon fire, shattering her illusions and obliterating feelings that until this moment she didn't know she had.

Thalia sank into the nearest seat, numb with shock. It was a momentary reprieve, but she was grateful for it. Because she knew a wave of pain was approaching, and it would come crashing down on her soon enough.

What had just happened? A few minutes ago, she was laughing and talking with her friends. They had encouraged her to pursue this relationship, and she had felt...happy and lighthearted. Happy to have met him, to have given in to their desire. And hopeful. For what, she didn't know. She certainly had not expected a proposal. But this confrontation and the sudden death of their incipient relationship were even more unexpected.

A drop of moisture fell on her arm, making her aware that she was crying. Exasperated, she brushed the tears from her eyes. She would not cry. She would not fall apart. It was absurd. She had only known Liam—no, Lord Ashford—for a few weeks. So what if they had been the most glorious, significant weeks of her life?

They had seen each other every single day. She had bared her body and soul to him. They had talked about their most intimate secrets, laughed and made love. Her first reaction upon finding him in her sitting room had been pure joy, for she had missed him today and was looking forward to meeting him tomorrow.

And then he had looked at her with wrath in his eyes, and her joy had died. She wouldn't see him tomorrow. Or any other day. They had broken it off, whatever was between them. Parted, as he had said. A sob broke free, and only then did she notice she had been holding her breath for too long. More sobs followed the first; ugly sobs that distorted her face and made her gasp for air.

She battled them furiously. It didn't matter. No one could become that important in such a short period. She would go on with her life. She would find something else to occupy her days. Maybe even take a new lover? Now that her inconvenient virginity had been taken care of, nothing kept her from finding more congenial company. She cringed at the thought.

Maybe if she kept repeating that to herself, she would eventually believe it.

THE NEXT MORNING DAWNED gray and dreary, which perfectly suited her mood. After a restless night, she awoke listless and tired. The prospect of dressing and going about her day failed to excite her, so she had a cup of hot chocolate in bed and was considering going back to sleep, for lack of a more exciting activity, when Artemis burst through her bedroom door like a fairy whirlwind.

"Artemis! I didn't know you were back from your honeymoon." Thalia groaned inside. She didn't have the energy to deal with her sister now.

"Andrew and I returned last night, and I couldn't wait a moment longer to come visit you."

"I would think that with a handsome husband at home, you'd have better things to do with your mornings than waking up early to visit your sister."

"I did not wake up early. Or rather, I did, but didn't leave bed until almost midday," Artemis added with a sly smile. "And for your information, it's not morning anymore."

"It isn't?" Confound it. Where had time gone?

"No, and I'm wondering why you are still abed and looking like death warmed over."

Thalia frowned. "That's not very nice of you to say. Not everyone is a radiant bride with roses on her cheeks. If you must know, I slept poorly last night and feel a bit under the weather this morning."

She hoped Artemis would accept that, and not probe. She was not ready to talk about her shattered dreams and her failed relationship, if one could even call it that.

But her sister was too shrewd and knew her too well. "No. I don't buy it. What's going on, Thalia?"

"Nothing at all. I'll be fine tomorrow."

"It's the marquess, isn't it? What did he do? Has he been unkind to you?"

"No. Nothing like that. Why would you assume my condition has any relation to him?"

Artemis just gave her a look, coming over to sit on the bed. "Please, Tally. Don't patronize me. I know there was something between the marquess and you. It was plain to see. Has the affair soured?"

Recognizing the futility of trying to hide it from her perceptive little sister, she nodded. "You could say that. A more appropriate term would be that it has ended."

"Oh no, Tally." Her sister's heartfelt and impulsive hug broke the dam of her barely contained tears. "I shall ask Drew to have a talk with his brother—"

"No." She grabbed her sister's hand. "You shall do nothing of the sort, Mimi. You and your husband should not concern yourself with my misbegotten affair. I would never forgive myself if this were to drive a wedge in your marriage."

"It won't. But I need to do something. I can't stand seeing you so downtrodden."

"It will pass. You just caught me at a bad time. We parted ways yesterday. I'm sure I'll be better by tomorrow."

"I know what we shall do! We will get you a whole new wardrobe, and don't quibble about the cost," her sister warned when she opened her mouth. "Thanks to my husband's progressive ideas, I have more than enough money to spend."

"I wasn't going to complain about the cost, my dear. I was just going to say that I already have quite a few new gowns. The marquess gave them to me. They are beautiful, too."

"Oh, he really went to great lengths for you, didn't he? Do you mind my asking why you two ended the affair?"

Thalia looked down. The memory of the argument clouding her eyes with pain. "He found out about the caricatures I draw and...took exception to it. You see, the press maligned him in much the same manner, and he's sensitive to the subject."

"Oh, I see. But didn't you explain what we do?"

"I tried. He wouldn't let me. He gave me an ultimatum. Either I stop sketching or we were finished. I didn't give in," Thalia finished with a small shrug.

"Oh, Tally. Are you sure? You don't need to draw those caricatures. We can do something else, find some other method to expose those bastards."

Thalia glared at her sister. "No. You know that because of my reduced financial circumstances, I can't contribute monetarily as much as the other ladies. My main contribution is my talent for drawing. What I do may seem insignificant, but it gives me purpose. Besides, I can't let him dictate to me or give me ultimatums without even listening to my side."

"I understand, dear," her sister said, giving her hand a little squeeze. "In my opinion, I think he might come around." I only hope he doesn't take too long to do it."

Thalia shook her head. "He won't. If you had seen the fury in his eyes... No. Besides, he never wanted anything permanent with me. The faster I accept it's over, the better I'll be."

"In that case, he is being a complete and unmitigated fool. Tell you what. Let me see these new gowns of yours. We are going to a ball tonight."

"Mimi, I really don't feel—"

"Of course you don't. But that's exactly why you should do it. You can't sit here at home moping about for him." So saying, Artemis threw open her wardrobe and gasped at the gowns inside. "Tally, these gowns are beautiful! You'll don one of these tonight, we'll attend a ball, and you'll have every man in attendance fawning over you. We'll make the marquess regret the moment he let you go."

Thalia doubted that a change of gown would suddenly have men flocking to her, or that Liam would care. But if nothing else, attending a ball might distract her from crying her eyes out.