Was she going to cry? Was that to be her latest ploy, to make him feel as if he was the heel and not the one who had been wronged?
Victor knew he should leave and not listen to any of her lies or fall for her tricks. That would be the sensible thing to do. Every moment he spent in her company the pain twisted tighter in his stomach. He had relived the sight of her in another man’s arms so many times, he did not need to relive it yet again. He had said what he wanted to say. Now he should go and never pay heed to this woman ever again.
And yet he stayed and waited for her explanation, her attempt to justify the unjustifiable.
She said nothing, just stared up at him, a look of appeal in those big blue eyes. Did she think that would be enough for him to forgive a heartbreak that had been so great he was sure he would never recover from it? A heartbreak that had left him still wanting the woman who had wounded him so deeply, even though he knew himself to be a fool to do so?
‘If you’re looking at me like that because you fear I will reveal your secrets, you do not need to worry. I will tell none of those men you are flirting with that you had offered yourself to two men last season, or at least two that I know of. Were there any others? How many?’
Why was he asking questions he both wanted and did not want to hear the answers to? Why was he tormenting himself?
‘No, no, of course not,’ she gasped out as if what he said was an affront to her. ‘There was only ever you,’ she repeated as if the more she said it the more believable it would become.
‘Only me and Montgomery. Although you managed to keep your involvement with him a secret from me, so how could I ever believe there were not others?’
‘You have to believe me. There has only ever been you.’
He shook his head at her temerity. ‘Are you trying to tell me I shouldn’t believe my eyes, that I did not see you kissing another man? Was the sight of your blouse falling off your shoulders and a man’s hand up your skirt some sort of hallucination?’
He closed his eyes. Each time he relived that memory it was as if a dagger plunged even deeper into his heart.
‘No,’ she whispered.
His eyes snapped open. ‘Are you now trying to tell me I had not seen any of those things, that it never happened?’
‘No. It did happen,’ she said, so quietly her final admission of the truth was barely audible.
Her words should have given him some satisfaction but did not.
‘And tonight, did I not see you flirting with every man who had the misfortune to come into your orbit? So how many men men’s hearts do you intend to break this season?’ He continued to probe, as if he were not already suffering enough.
‘None,’ she whispered, her eyes pleading. ‘Yes, I kissed Edward Montgomery but it meant nothing. Please, you must believe me.’
He shook his head. It meant nothing. Did she think that made it all right?
‘You have to trust me. I did not kiss him because I have feelings for him. The only man I have ever loved was you.’ She placed her hand on his arm. ‘Please, Victor.’
For a moment he weakened, wanted to believe her, but then he remembered what he had seen, how he had felt when he saw her with another man, and he would not let this treacherous woman destroy him for a second time.
‘How can I ever trust a woman who would deceive me in such a callous manner?’
And with that he turned and strode up the steps back towards the ballroom.
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