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"That's... that's impossible," I whispered. Though, even as I said it, pieces were falling into place with sickening clarity.
Edward's vague responses whenever I mentioned work. The way he steered conversations away from his current cases. The strange tension when Sir Malcolm had mentioned acquisitions earlier.
Memories rushed through my mind like accusatory ghosts: Edward’s tension when I mentioned the company's struggles during our London tour; his strange reaction when I'd found him with acquisition papers in the library; how he always steered conversations away from work the moment Gardens & Home was mentioned.
All those moments I'd interpreted as considerate interest had been calculated evasions.
"Edward would have told me. He would never—"
"Wouldn't he?" Lady Victoria's laugh was brittle as fine china. "My dear child, surely you didn't think this was all some romantic coincidence. A chance meeting in a library, stolen glances over afternoon tea, an aristocrat falling for a commoner? How deliciously naive."
My mind raced back through every interaction with Edward, suddenly viewing them through this new, poisoned lens.
Our first meeting when I was in his bed. His initial shock when he learned where I worked. Every conversation where he'd carefully avoided discussing his current cases.
"Edward's firm has been planning this acquisition for months," Lady Victoria continued, clearly savoring my distress. "The failing American company expanding into the British market, hemorrhaging money, desperate for a buyer. And then, just as negotiations were heating up, you arrived at our door. Convenient, wouldn't you say?"
"No." I shook my head, refusing to accept what she was implying. "Daphne invited me. She wanted me to feel welcome in England."
"Daphne." Lady Victoria waved dismissively. "My daughter has always been useful in her own way, though she rarely understands the bigger picture. Did you really think Edward showing you around London was Daphne’s idea? Or Edward suddenly developed an interest in television personalities?"
The air in the conservatory felt too thick suddenly, the scent of tropical flowers cloying and suffocating. I struggled to breathe as my entire world tilted on its axis.
"You see, my dear, successful businessmen like Edward don't leave acquisition targets to chance," Lady Victoria explained with the patience of someone enjoying herself immensely. "Getting close to you, gaining your trust, perhaps learning which executives were troublesome, which financial details weren't public knowledge, which aspects of your business model were most vulnerable—that's just good business. And you made it so easy, didn't you? American girls are so trusting."
"But he... we..." I couldn't finish the sentence. Couldn't articulate what had been growing between us—what I thought had been growing between us.
"Yes, I'm sure he was very convincing. Edward has always been exceptionally good at getting what he wants. The boarding school charm, the aristocratic mystique, the wounded hero routine—it works on a certain type of woman." Her gaze raked over me dismissively. "Though I confess, I didn't think he'd have to work quite so hard with someone of your background."
The casual cruelty of her words cut deep, but they weren't what made my heart feel like it was being shredded. It was the realization that everything I'd felt with Edward—every laugh, every touch, every whispered confession under moonlight—might have been nothing more than calculated manipulation.
"You're lying," I said, but the words lacked conviction even to my own ears.
"Am I? Then tell me, dear—did Edward mention the acquisition? Even hint at a business connection between your company and his firm? Or did he carefully avoid any mention of work, keep the conversation focused on other things?"
I couldn't answer. Because she was right—he'd never mentioned it. Not once. Not even when I'd brought up work, myworries about the company's future, my fear of being sent back to America.
"I thought not," Lady Victoria said with satisfaction. "You see, in our world, information is currency. And you, my dear girl, have been played by a master."
"This is about more than business," I said, anger finally flaring through the shock. "This is about you thinking I'm not good enough for your son. About me being an outsider, an interloper in your precious aristocratic world."
"Oh, you're quite right about that." Lady Victoria's mask slipped for a moment, revealing the pure venom beneath. "You are everything I've spent my life protecting this family from. Common blood, American vulgarity, the kind of girl who thinks ambition and charm can substitute for breeding and education."
I drew myself up to my full height, channeling every ounce of Texas backbone Mama had instilled in me. "Where I come from, Lady Victoria, we believe character isn't about what family you're born into or what accent you have—it's about how you treat people when you have power over them. And by that measure, I'm not the one lacking breeding here."
Something like respect flickered in her eyes, quickly masked by renewed cruelty. "One does have to admire the spirit. But you know what the truly delicious irony is? Even if Edward genuinely cared for you—which I doubt—it wouldn't matter. By this time next week, you'll be unemployed, your visa will be invalid, and you'll be back in whatever godforsaken little town spawned you."
"My visa..." The words came out as barely more than a whisper.
"Tied to your employment, isn't it?" Lady Victoria's smile was almost sympathetic, which somehow made it worse. "How elegant a solution. One signature on an acquisition document, and not only is your career finished, but you're removed from my son's orbit entirely. Back across the ocean where you belong."
The full implications hit me like a physical blow.
Not just a broken heart, but professional destruction.
Not just rejection, but deportation.
Not just losing Edward, but losing everything I'd worked for, and everything I'd dreamed about.