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“Iwant to hear your side of this story.”

Azriel looked at me from across the table in our room at The Bell, and shrugged. “More wine, beloved?” He held up the silver decanter. “It is really very good. Not as good as what one can get in Spain, but-”

“Do not change the subject.” My rest after our arrival back at The Bell had done nothing to calm my frayed nerves. The revelations of that afternoon had set a tumultuous storm of emotions roiling inside me, like a kettle left over the flame.

By the time Azriel and I had found ourselves sitting down for dinner - an invitation from my father to join him had, of course, not come - I was quite irate, and now I wanted answers.

Azriel raised his eyebrows, and poured the red liquid into my glass. “What do you imagine there is for me to tell you, Evie?”

“Did you always know?”

He swirled the wine in his glass languidly. “Do you imagine I would have let my father steal awaymy bride?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you would have done, but you knew. Somehow, you discovered all of this, and I wish for you to tell me how it all came about.”

He leaned back in his chair, and gave me a nod. “Of course you do.”

“Has anyone ever told you your indifference is maddening?”

He chuckled, grinning widely. “As a matter of fact they have.” He put the glass down with a sigh, and ran his hands through his hair. “No, I did not know, though I should have.” His eyes lifted back to mine, and he shrugged. “He lied to me. I was informed that he wished to organise a match with a family, and I had known for some time that he wanted to legitimise himself in the eyes of his business partners.” He scoffed. “Wretched old snob.”

“He wanted the Brimworth name?”

“Oh yes, he wanted a good and trusted name to brag with. He told me he was going to meet with the lady’s parents, but upon his return, he informed me it was an ill match, and that he would not agree to it.”

A wan smile tugged at my lips, and I took up my glass of wine. “And that, presumably, is when he saw me.”

“Yes, one would presume.” Azriel got to his feet, walking to the window, leaning his forearm against the frame as he gazed down into the street. “Shortly thereafter he told me he’d fallen in love with a woman, and that he intended to marry again. I was a fool, a young fool. I should have seen through his lies immediately. And then I saw you in the church, and…” He rubbed his fingers together, his eyes fixed on something below that I could not see. “When that veil was lifted, and revealed your face… It was as though the gates of heaven opened up before me, and hellfire burned beneath me. How could this creature, this vision, be marrying my father?”

My cheeks flushed with heat, and I took a quick gulp of wine. “I had thought that perhaps your infatuation lay in your belief that I was yours.”

“You were always mine, Evie.” He looked over at me, lips twitching into a brief smile. “Of that I was certain. And yes, it fed my infatuation. But nothing could compare to… To what happened eight months ago.”

“Before you left for Greece?”

Azriel turned and leaned against the window ledge, crossing his arms over his chest. “What were you told about the marriage?”

I blinked at him, and shrugged. “I mean, I was informed that a family had offered someone for me to wed. I knew of your family, and assumed that I was intended for you. But then, I was presented to your father.”

“Did you protest?”

I laughed out loud, fanning myself with my hand as the wine heated my cheeks. “Oh, to live in the world of men, where one has a choice. Do you suppose anyone ever even asked me? I was informed, Azriel. I was summoned into a room and informed that a desirable match had been made, and that I was going to be made extremely happy.” I tilted my head, the wine making me more brazen than I perhaps should have been. “Didyouprotest?”

Azriel frowned. “Protest what?”

“The preposterous notion that your father marry a woman my age?”

I expected to see shame, or remorse, but I am not sure why. Azriel did not entertain such emotions. He met my eyes with an icy stare.

“No, I did not.”

I lifted a hand with a laugh. “There, you see? For who among our good class of society would indeed protest such athing? Especially when one party is the daughter of one of the poorest families in the crumbling nobility.”

“I was such a fool.” Azriel exhaled heavily, running a hand over his face. “It near drove me mad, being in that house with you, having my father parade an endless stream of women in front of me, trying to marry me off, not understanding why no woman could hold my attention.”

“And so you began to watch me?”

His eyes flashed with desire. “Yes. For it was all I could do. I was drunk that first night, drunk and enraged and entirely disbelieving. I was almost certain the old gibface wouldn’t be able to perform. But the moment I saw you, so anxious, so frightened as he came to your chamber.” He looked away quickly, a pained smile stretched across his face. “You were all I saw. And my god, it was torturous. Sheer agony, watching you weep. Watching how little care he took with you. How perfunctory it was.”