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Her tears cleaved his heart, shredding the organ.

“Faith, what…?”

She shoved his chest with both hands, and Constantine toppled over, sprawling onto his back, arms still reaching for her.

Mouth pinched tight, she scrambled to her feet and stared down at him, fairly quivering with outrage. And hurt.

He was astute enough to recognize he’d wounded her. Again.

“I don’t need your misplaced pity, nor do I want to be convenient or the solution to your problems, my lord.” She straightened her spine, rigid and unyielding as an iron bar, before thrusting out that stubborn chin. “Stay away from me until I leave the day after tomorrow.”

A sob tried to escape, and Faith pressed a fist to her mouth. With that, she turned on her heels and darted down the hill.

Constantine let his arms flop to his sides.

Faith had refused him.

She didn’t want to marry him.

By thunder, the ache in Constantine’s chest hurt something bloody awful.

A curious rook hopped along a branch, peering down at him.

“If you’re wise, old fellow, stay single. Females are simply impossible to understand.”