She did not like this look on him. For a breath, he looked like she'd struck him, which was tempting, but what followed left her entirely unsettled. He looked at her as if he'd solved some mystery; as if he could puzzle her out. It seemed unlikely, as his actions spoke to a complete lack of understanding of a woman's mind, but ignorance never stopped men before.
"I want you to trust me," she pushed back. "The other should be obvious." She made a point of looking away from him, a hint of a pout to her lips. How he could say such a thing as if it was a revelation was mindboggling. It was an insult for him to think her incapable of such a wish. Doubt gave her a strong prod at the implication. Was this all because she'd gone to his bed without a promise for a more formal union? The independence she loved so dearly, her acceptance of his gifts and giving him her own, she'd played his mistress for months. How could she hold it against him if he treated her accordingly?
The tightness in her chest twisted deeper as her mind mapped out this realization. She flinched at his change of tone, the understanding that sounded too near to pity for her liking. She rose when he moved, unwilling to have him looming any larger over her than his height already allowed. There was something about holding her ground that felt much like dignity, something of hers that had taken a beating in the past week.
"Do not patronize me." She held up a hand in a weak gesture for him to stop his approach. "How can you call me that when you chose her? You would give everything to a sheltered child who offers you little advantage and for what? You would give her your name, your protection," she caught herself before the obnoxious hitch in her throat could become something truly embarrassing. It was hard enough seeing him in public and knowing she should keep her distance. The idea of him and Miss Cosgrove together was nauseating. How long before seeing her on his arm was replaced by Cosgrove all smiles at the announcement of their first child? Before the mischievous, adorable child Angel could imagine in her dreams would be a reality for another woman? Merlin, it was too much to dwell on.
"I want you to trust me," she pushed back. "The other should be obvious." She made a point of looking away from him, a hint of a pout to her lips. How he could say such a thing as if it was a revelation was mindboggling. It was an insult for him to think her incapable of such a wish. Doubt gave her a strong prod at the implication. Was this all because she'd gone to his bed without a promise for a more formal union? The independence she loved so dearly, her acceptance of his gifts and giving him her own, she'd played his mistress for months. How could she hold it against him if he treated her accordingly?
The tightness in her chest twisted deeper as her mind mapped out this realization. She flinched at his change of tone, the understanding that sounded too near to pity for her liking. She rose when he moved, unwilling to have him looming any larger over her than his height already allowed. There was something about holding her ground that felt much like dignity, something of hers that had taken a beating in the past week.
"Do not patronize me." She held up a hand in a weak gesture for him to stop his approach. "How can you call me that when you chose her? You would give everything to a sheltered child who offers you little advantage and for what? You would give her your name, your protection," she caught herself before the obnoxious hitch in her throat could become something truly embarrassing. It was hard enough seeing him in public and knowing she should keep her distance. The idea of him and Miss Cosgrove together was nauseating. How long before seeing her on his arm was replaced by Cosgrove all smiles at the announcement of their first child? Before the mischievous, adorable child Angel could imagine in her dreams would be a reality for another woman? Merlin, it was too much to dwell on.
![[Image: NpMgQU7.png]](https://i.imgur.com/NpMgQU7.png)