Rafael would have liked to pick her up and carry her to his coach, but, knowing how inappropriate that would be, he said, ‘I will not be leaving your side until you answer my questions. So we can stand here, with all the zoo visitors watching, or we can continue this conversation in my coach. The choice is yours.’
She glanced around, noticed the number of people mingling about, and, with a huff, said, ‘Fine.’
Once inside his coach, where he was more than willing to hold her hostage until she told him what he wanted to know, they sat across from each other with the air between them snapping with tension.
Her arms were stubbornly crossed and her eyes cold as they sat there, staring at each other. Seconds ticked into minutes as neither of them broke the stand-off that could have been written in a dime novel about the Wild West in the United States. A place he’d like to see some day, and wondered if she would, too. If she dreamed of singing there.
He felt his heart twist in his chest, realising that she’d claimed to be banned from auditioning. He’d heard her say it, but had skipped over that, due to a colossal bout of jealousy that was still rearing up inside him. His instinctive assumption had been that Clement Barr was a beau, a man who had asked Willette to marry him—probably because marriage was all Rafael could think about himself—and his mind had run on from there, thinking that people must have warned Willette about Clement, and that he had wanted something indecent from Willette prior to marriage, proving them right.
Could he be wrong?
Or was he almost right? Was Clement Willette’s beau and had he banned her from auditioning? Was she going home to her father’s house to get away from him?
No wonder she’d been crying when they’d encountered each other earlier. It was just as understandable that she didn’t want to tell him about it.
However, he needed to know, because if that was the case then he’d find this Clement Barr and tell him that no one could ban Willette from auditioning. It was wrong to prevent the rest of the world from hearing her sing.
Rafael knew that fact better than anyone. If it hadn’t been wrong, he’d be begging Willette to marry him. To become the future Viscountess Westerly, and damn what society thought.
That was impossible. He still understood that their lives were too different, but the fact that his desires couldn’t come to fruition didn’t mean that hers couldn’t.
Changing his tactics slightly, he asked, ‘Who is Clement Barr?’
She broke the staring stand-off by looking away. Her lips pinched together tightly, and she shook her head.
Being a viscount might have its drawbacks—being forced to wed, for one—but it had its benefits too. ‘I have plenty of resources at my disposal,’ he said. ‘If you won’t tell me, I can find out myself.’
Her gasp echoed off the coach’s walls and ceiling. She levelled another cold stare on him and challenged, ‘You wouldn’t dare.’
He loved a good challenge. ‘I assure you, I would.’
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