Page 167

She had slapped him, and it hadn't made a difference.

Anthony made you his bitch?

She had slapped him again and again, begging him to take the words back, but he had not.

And that was the last time they had seen each other...until now.

A heavy, numbing sensation filled Acheron's chest as he entered Amelia's room and saw what she had made of it. What could be torn had been ripped into shreds, what could be overturned had been overturned. Paintings that had once hung on the wall, curtains that had once covered the windows, and the expensive tea set that used to grace the console - all of it was on the floor now.

Broken bits and pieces everywhere, but not all of them were tangible.

Each time, the strokes of her madness were different, but they all painted the same devastating mess.

"Acheron."

She had finally noticed him, and his chest tightened as she came flying to him. He wrapped his arms about her, knowing to do anything else would kill her, and his chest tightened even more.

The silky feel of her hair, the paleness of her skin, and even the sound of her sobs - all of it were terribly, hurtfully familiar.

But there were also things that had changed.

She used to carry the scent of strawberries all the time, but now she smelled of sweat. She had always been the type to take pride in her appearance, but now she looked all dried up, her thinness dangerously beyond what was fashionable.

The changes did not disgust him at all, but it did make him sad.

This was not the Amelia he remembered, and it was for this reason that he could not and would not leave her.

"I only wanted a little," she whispered against his shirt.

"I know."

"Wickham wouldn't give me any."

"I'd fire him if he had."

"Yeah. You would." Her head slowly lifted, and there was fear in her eyes as she gazed up at him. "I couldn't help it. I just got so...angry." Her lip started trembling anew. "I picked the lock to your study."

Ah.

He had a dossier on Pippi on his desk, and Amelia would've been too curious not to leaf through it.

"I suppose that's how you learned about Pippi."

Amelia could feel herself turning pale. Acheron didn't do nicknames. He had never called her 'Amy', not even when they were alone. And yet he called the other girlPippi.

Desperation filled her. She had always known that the day would come that she would lose him, but now that it finally happened, it was so much worse than she feared. Socialites and heiresses were no threat to her. They would always be too shallow for Acheron. But a do-gooder like Pippilotta Jones?

"That girl..." It was a challenge to speak in a level voice when she was so tempted to cry. "She was the one who helped me that day. Wasn't she?"

A clipped nod, but if Acheron thought that wasn't going to reveal anything, he was sadly mistaken. She knew him well, after all, and that one nod said everything. He might not have realized it yet, but that girl already owned his heart.

"You care for her."

"Amelia—-"

"Don't bother lying." Her voice shook. "I know, just by looking at you." Her lips curved in a smile that didn't reach her eyes, and the sight damn near broke his heart.

You made this happen,he wanted to snarl.You kept pushing me away. You did everything to drive me away. So stop fucking looking at me like I betrayed you.