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The questions wouldn’t stop, even if she did. There in the hall, right outside the room he had been assigned for the house party, the room she had stolen away to with a racing heart and a giddiness that belonged to the truly young and burdenless. She stopped and stared at his door, mere inches from her, the hand at her side burning to open the latch.

Why had she believed she could indulge in an affair with Apollo without getting hurt? Why had she thought that having him for a short time would have been better than never having him at all? Because it seemed to her that nothing would ever surpass the devastation within her at this moment.

She held her breath to keep from sobbing and listened. For what, she didn’t know. Voices, perhaps. Or just the simple sound of his footfall, the soft rustle of a garment being shed, the splash of water in the basin as he performed his ablutions. Or even the sound of his breathing, which had somehow become beloved to her these past few whirlwind days.

She had lain awake, listening to the steady, even sound as if it were a secret between them that she would forever keep. She had lain her head over his heart and listened to the rhythmic beats, and she had fallen asleep to his warm strength at her side. But no more. She had surrendered those privileges earlier that morning when she had sent him away from her. When she had told him their time as lovers was at an end.

What choice had she had?

Ophelia had lived five-and-thirty years for others instead of herself, and now that she had Catherine and Reggie, that would never change. She was all they had in this world, and that meant she had to cast her selfishness aside for their sake.

She listened for another moment, desperate for the smallest hint of sound from him.

But there was none.

Valiantly fighting off the threatening deluge of tears, she made her way back to her own room, the click of the door at her back echoing with finality.

She and Apollo were over.

And that was for the best.

Lamplight glowed around the cracks of Phee’s door when Apollo finally ventured from the moonlit gardens. He was soused, but not nearly enough. The fresh air hadn’t done a thing to dull the roaring in his head, in his blood.

He stopped outside her room, listening.

Had she taken the dance partner she’d disappeared with earlier to her bed? There was no rumble of a masculine voice. All was quiet.

He stayed still, waiting.

Waiting for what, he didn’t know. Only that he couldn’t seem to move away from her. The distance between them after tonight would be endless and maddening. They would return to their separate worlds, she to her children and he to his mother and sister.

It was what she wanted.

He had to honor that wish.

Even if it shattered his heart and tore him apart inside.

Giving in for just a moment, he flattened his palm on the door. But it wasn’t her he touched, it was unfeeling wood, and she didn’t sense his presence or open the portal. Hell, he wasn’t sure he’d wanted her to, because then he may have done something even more foolish than drinking himself to oblivion, like fall to his knees and beg her to change her mind.

But, no.

He had his pride.

She had her children.

Apollo removed his hand and stalked down the hall to his empty room.

It was a long, long time before sleep claimed him. By dawn, he was awake again. He rang for his valet, informing him they were departing before breakfast, and left without seeing Phee again.

CHAPTER 18

The familiar, comforting chaos of her town house enveloped Ophelia the moment she entered the front hall and Bitsy barked, rushing forward with Henry, the lone puppy from her recent litter of pups whom they had yet to find a home for, following closely behind. In her heartsick state, the arrival back home was bittersweet.

It was as if she had been away for a lifetime instead of only a little over a week. So much had happened in that time. Everything. Apollo’s handsome face rose in her mind. Through the journey back to London, she had thought of hardly anything other than Reggie, Catherine, and Apollo, simultaneously returning to her heart and leaving it behind. She had vacillated between elation and devastation with each mile traveled.

But she couldn’t dwell upon that now, for she was once more where she truly belonged, back in the role of mother. She couldn’t wait to see her children.

Her housekeeper, Mrs. Clare, bustled forward to greet her with a curtsy. “My lady, you’ve returned.”