She might not be perfect, and she had too many faults to list—but she deserved to be respected by her husband. She deserved love, loyalty, and compassion. It was no less than she would give.
He looked as though he was about to speak, and she had heard enough. "I'll tell our guests that the wedding has been canceled and I'll see that all the gifts are returned, you needn't worry. And the wedding breakfast will be given to the less fortunate in the village."
"You've got it all sorted out already." His tone was a mixture of disbelief, hurt, and contempt.
"I suppose I've been giving it some thought these last few days." Let him stew on that.
He didn't disappoint her—the astonishment on his face gave her at least a bit of satisfaction underneath the guilt that threatened to crush her once more. Ending their engagement was for the best—for both of them.
"I had no business accepting your proposal in the first place," she told him. "And for that I am truly sorry, but for anything else I might have done—for whatever transpired between myself and Payen—I refuse to apologize, to you or anyone else. You know the way out."
And then she pivoted sharply on her heel and swept from the room with all the dignity she could muster. It wasn't much, but indignation and a certain amount of relief spurred her on.
Now she was going to find Payen and have a little chat, because if that vampire thought he could breeze back into her life, muck it up, and then walk away again he was in for a big surprise.
She wasn't about to let him walk away. Not this time.
Chapter 3
Henry and Eliza were hard on him, but no more than he expected. Regardless of his friendship with them both, he had just ruined their ward's wedding and possibly her reputation. It was badly done of him, and he'd do it all over again if he had to.
All he had to do was focus on the here and now and not spend too much dwelling on how Violet's declaration had terrified and thrilled him five years before. And how it had lit a fire under his heels. He had seduced her and left her.
Damn it, she had seduced him.
The earl and his countess at least understood his motivation. They knew about Stephen Rexley—a man who had been Payen's best friend before his death. They knew of the vile nature of the Order of the Silver Palm and understood that Payen would not want to see Violet drawn into such an affiliation. What they didn't understand is how someone as "good" as Rupert Villiers could be part of such an organization.
Personally, Payen didn't care, but he offered a suggestion to ease their minds—he wasn't totally cold-hearted. "The family connection would bring him in without him having to prove himself," he told them. "But now that he's in, he'll have to undergo tests and trials similar to an initiate. They'll want to know what he's capable of, and whether or not he's worthy of being a true Disciple."
"Then there's hope for him." Eliza didn't bother to disguise her own hopefulness. "He may not be the villain you believe him to be."
Payen slid her a sharp glance. "Are you willing to wager Violet's life on whether he will remain innocent?"
She frowned, looked to her husband. "But…"
Payen didn't relent. "For him to have been given a ring based on name alone, his family has to be in very deep, Eliza. They wouldn't let Villiers in unless they were certain he would bow to their traditions and do exactly as they want."
"It's been centuries, Payen," Henry tried to reason with him. "Surely the Order that exists today is different from the one you fought."
He had to force himself to remain calm, to remember where their doubt stemmed from. They were not intentionally trying to fight him, they simply wanted to make this all go away.
"If I walked into one of their meetings right now and announced what I was—Templar or vampire, I would be lucky to walk out alive. And anyone associated with me would be in danger."
Something sparked in Henry's eyes. "You suspect Villiers' interest in Violet is because of you?"
"My God," Eliza breathed, pressing her palm to the breast of her green silk gown. "This can't be happening."
Payen shrugged. Actually he hadn't thought of that, but now that the idea was in his head…"It's possible. Has he ever asked about me?"
"No," Henry replied. "Until tonight I don't imagine he's ever heard us mention you." His expression turned uncomfortable, even apologetic. "Violet was so upset after you left the last time that we got into the habit of not discussing you in front of her."
Eliza's gaze was cooler than her husband's. No doubt she guessed that Violet hadn't declared her love without provocation. "I suppose we know why she was so upset now, don't we? How could you, Payen?"
"Yes," came a voice from behind him. "How could you?"
He had heard the door open, of course. Heard her soft footfalls and short, angry breaths. Let her make her entrance, let her think she caught him unaware.
He turned, brow arched, face perfectly composed. Still, the sight of her with her cheeks flushed, her eyes glittering, took his breath away. She looked as though she could gladly run him through—and if he had a sword he'd be tempted to give it to her just to see her try.
Women with weapons had always been a weakness of his.
Their gazes met and locked, and it seemed to Payen as though sparks literally danced between them. He grinned. "What took you so long?"
She didn't return the smile. In fact, her thickly lashed eyes narrowed as she glared at him. "I had a wedding to cancel." It was meant to wipe the smile from his face, but it didn't—not totally.
Eliza said something in sympathy, but Payen wasn't listening. He kept his attention focused on the Amazon before him, noting the softness of her cheek, the lush curves of her breasts straining against the neckline of her gown. To him, Violet was like a ripe, succulent peach just begging to be plucked, bitten, and sucked.
Knowing that he had kept Villiers from being the man to do just that didn't bother him one damn bit. Knowing that he might have broken Violet's heart…well, that was another matter.
"I think Violet wants to speak to me alone," he said, tilting his head in the direction of his friends. His gaze never left the woman whose touch haunted his dreams.
"I'm not leaving her alone with you." Eliza's voice rang with conviction. "Not after what you did."
To Payen's surprise, it was the lady herself who interjected. She swung that hazel gaze to her adopted mother and said, rather calmly, "It's all right, Eliza. I would like to talk to Payen alone."
Ignoring Henry and Eliza, Payen carefully studied Violet as her attention slowly drifted back to him. There was a confidence to her that hadn't been there before—not in her physical appearance, but in her inner self. She was not a timid little thing like her namesake. Pride warmed the inside of him. Had there ever been such a woman as Violet? As a girl she had captivated and seduced him. As a memory she had haunted his every turn. And now, as a woman, she had him ready to drop to his knees in fealty before her.
When the door clicked shut behind her guardians, she raised her chin, her gaze locking with his once more. "I should despise you for what you've done."
He nodded. "Yes."
"You deliberately betrayed a private moment—a private declaration—between you and me just to get your own way."
A moment he would never forget. "Yes."
"You've ruined my wedding."
Did he really need to answer any more of these rhetorical questions? He straightened his shoulders. "Don't expect me to apologize, because I'm not sorry."