Page 68 of The Lady Was Lying
“I beg to differ. I brought you to London. I forced you to enter society, and I didn’t protect you from those who would take advantage of you.”
“No one took advantage of me. I took advantage of them. I’m the villain here.”
“No.” His clipped tone made it clear that he disagreed. “Our mother goaded you into doing things you wouldn’t have done otherwise.”
Was that true?
“I wanted passion.”
He sighed. “But not just passion.”
“Maybe not. It’s just…She makes it seem easy. Nothing else matters to her when she’s with a man. And she never fails to get what she wants.”
“She’s failed plenty.”
“Not in love.”
“In everything else that matters.”
Belinda couldn’t argue with that. “It’s not what you’re thinking. I’m not emulating her. Becoming our mother is literally the last thing I want, but I hate that I’m as scared of the things I felt when I kissed James as I was of the things I didn’t feel when I kissed everyone else.”
“Have you considered that you might be…uh…overthinking a bit?”
She snorted. “Of course.”
“In that case…” He frowned. “It might be counterproductive to suggest that you allow James to court you, but have you considered agreeing to a more traditional path?”
“Maybe.” Obviously, she’d thought about it. How could she not?
“You like him. He likes?—”
“—I said maybe.”
“What’s holding you back?” he asked.
“Expectations. Pressure. The judgment of society.” Her fickle heart. And her stupid brain.
“If there were no expectations, no pressure, what would you do?”
What would she do?
That was the question.
James was in a bit of a quandary.
After extensive deliberation, he had settled on a plan. Not a foolproof plan, but one that leveraged everything he knew about Belinda and everything he knew about society.
He had a chance of succeeding. At least he hoped. If his plan worked, he and Belinda would live happily ever after, and if not, he’d probably be shunned by the entire Greydon clan.
It was a risk he was willing to take.
A risk he needed to take.
Belinda had avoided him since the kiss. Every time he had called in the last eight days, she had been conspicuously absent. When he had directly inquired about her well-being, he was told she was in fine spirits.
Whatever that meant.
He’d assumed that after the conversation he’d had with Greydon, he would be able to count on the other man to help him, but instead, Greydon had conveyed her regrets more than once but had done nothing to facilitate an encounter.
