Page 80 of A Fragile Enchantment

Niamh sensed Kit’s hesitation. She could almost feel him searching for her anxiously in the dark. Gods, if only she had kept that coat, she might have been able to sneak out with him.

“Fine,” Kit said. “This conversation isn’t over.”

After a moment, the door slammed. The impact rang in the silence.

Niamh held her breath. At any moment, Jack would chase after him. Surely he couldn’t let the conversation end on that note. But he let out a long, defeated sigh. She could hear the soft rustle of fabric as he shrugged off his coat. It landed in front of her, crumpled on the back of his chair.

Oh no.

He approached the desk. From here, Niamh could see him silhouetted in the lamplight. He’d stripped to his shirtsleeves and loosened his cravat. He looked completely and utterly exhausted, with his bloodshot eyes and miserable expression. He reached for the decanter perched on the bookshelf, but when he remembered it was empty, he swore.

“The spiteful wretch,” he muttered under his breath. “I knew I should have sent him to the navy instead.”

And then his gaze landed on Niamh. All the blood drained from her face. For a long, horrible few moments, they stared at each other without speaking. She felt like some tedious ghost he’d thought was already banished.

When he finally recovered, his shock melted fully into rage.

“You.” He hauled her out by her elbow. As soon as she stumbled to her feet, she put some distance between them. “What are you doing here? Did you put him up to this?”

“No, I swear!”

“You have done nothing but cause me trouble since the moment you first arrived, you meddlesome little chit.”

“I’m sorry.” Niamh pressed herself flat against the wall. Her mind blackened with fear at the wild look in his eyes. Right now, she didn’t know what he was capable of. She’d never been struck in her life.

She hardly recognized the smallness of her own voice. Jack, at last, seemed to notice her cowering. Remorse flickered in his eyes, chased quickly by shame. He glanced down at his hand, clenched into a fist, and shook it out, as though dispelling a bad memory.

“I am sorry for frightening you. It has been a long night.” His eyes fell shut, and he rubbed his temples. “Am I such a joke that no one—not a commoner, not my own brother—will give me any respect? You have done nothing but take advantage of my leniency. You have given Lovelace more ammunition for their crusade, and now, you have filled my brother’s head with all sorts of pretty nonsense.”

His cool dismissal of Kit roused within her an obstinance hadn’t realized she possessed. “I am terribly sorry for the trouble I have caused you, but I have only ever acted with the best of intentions for your family,” she said hotly. “All I have done is treat the prince as he wants to be treated: like a person, who has feelings and ideas of his own.”

“Spare me, madam.” He sounded weary now. “Surely, you must have enough conscience, enough basicsense,to understand my position. You are entirely unsuitable for him in every regard. I did not take you as an ambitious girl, but the gall of you… To aspire so far above your station. To brazenly attempt to tear apart a match made by those who have the common good of all in mind.”

“What could you mean by all of this, sir?” she asked before she could think better of it. “The prince has made me no offer.”

Jack flushed, clearly incensed by the very suggestion. “And am I meant to understand that if he had, you would accept?”

She’d be a fool to reply in anything but the negative. She had always known what his duties as a prince entailed. And yet, it was such a farce. He couldn’t sacrifice so much for a kingdom that did not love him—for a marriage that would make both parties miserable and trapped. She couldn’t quell this quiet, desperate fury burning within her. If she was to die young, why should she live pleasing everyone but herself?

“And why should I not?”

“Miss O’Connor, do not test my patience.” He radiated powerful, unrelenting malice, determined to make her feel the weight of every drop of his royal blood, all of his intimidatingly regal bearing. “If it’s money you’re after, you now know there is nothing to be gained. Did you not, after all, overhear every sordid detail of our plight? Do you not understand what is at stake? I know Avaland has not historically been kind to your people, and I very much regret my father’s mismanagement of your troubles. But you cannot be so cold as to doom us all because of your foolish, romanticwhim.”

“Perhaps there is another option you have not considered! One that does not require such sacrifices, or one that will allow for a more just world!”

“And marrying my brother would accomplish that?” he asked derisively.

“I…”

“So this is how you show your gratitude. In what world could you even conceive of it? A prince of Avaland, with a commoner. A Machlishwoman, no less!” The moonlight pouring through the broken window highlighted all his cold austerity. “I cannot even begin to imagine the scandal—the disgrace—such a thing would cause. How can you claim to care for him when you know it will ruin him? Has he not suffered enough from the contempt of society?”

“Do you truly believe he cares at all what people think of him? If he suffers at all from their contempt, it’s because he fears what it will do toyou.”

“As he should,” Jack snapped. “If he carries on this way, the Carmine name shall never recover—after all of the pains I have taken. It cannot be endured. You are a nothing girl from a nowhere town. Apart from your divine blood, you have absolutely nothing to offer him.”

“I may not be suited for him, but I love him! Is that truly nothing?”

I love him.