Page 19 of The Marquess Match (Love’s a Game #3)

CHAPTER NINETEEN

C lare sat on the edge of her bed, her fingers toying with the folded slip of vellum in her lap. She had read it three times now, the single word written in Ash’s bold, slanted script—it was vague, but she knew exactly what he was asking.

Again?

Her body still thrummed with the memory of his touch, the way he had commanded her, unraveled her, put her back together again. It had been blistering. It had been reckless. And it had been exactly what she needed.

But it could never happen again.

Another scandal wouldn’t just ruin her further—it would destroy her. Her mother had made that clear. If she embarrassed the family again, if she drew any more whispers, there would be no mercy. She would be sent away to a convent, and this time, the threat wasn’t idle. Her mother had mentioned it more than once, and Clare knew she would follow through.

Living with her mother was unbearable, but at least she could sneak away and steal moments of freedom. A convent though? Nuns watching her every move, judging, suffocating? The thought alone made her shudder. No. She needed to win the last bit of money necessary for her to leave the country. And the sooner the better. Once her mother came to fetch her in a fortnight, she wouldn’t have another chance to return to London until spring.

She sighed, pressing the vellum flat against her palm. She could say yes. She could go to him again, lose herself in him again, let him ruin her in the most delicious ways.

But that would be foolish.

She was already walking the razor’s edge of scandal. She had got what she wanted—what she had craved for years. A taste of Ashford Drake. An unforgettable coupling. And it had been glorious.

Now, she needed to stop before she lost herself entirely.

She picked up a quill, hesitated for only a moment, then scribbled her reply.

No.

She folded the note, sealing it carefully before handing it off to a footman with a good coin and instructions to ensure it reached Lord Trentham without delay. As the door shut behind the servant, Clare exhaled, steadying herself.

She had done the right thing.

So why did it feel like she had just set fire to the one thing that had ever made her feel truly alive?