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“To put it plainly, you may be a colossal problem, Lady Sophie, but you are not my problem.” The words stung quite harshly, and the way he turned his back on her, as though she were nothing, worth nothing—not even thought—delivered an unexpected blow, harsher than it might have been on another day, when all of Society and her family hadn’t turned their backs upon her in a similar fashion.
“This was never my plan.” “Of course not, why would I think it from a Dangerous Daughter?” he scoffed, and she hated him then. Hated him for invoking the ridiculous moniker. For being just like all the others. For believing that she wanted the life into which she’d been thrust.
She thought too little of herself, and King had suddenly wished very much to change her mind. As insane as that sounded. He blamed her beautiful smile.
She wanted to be free—he could show her freedom. He could show her happiness. Except he couldn’t.
“Happiness. That’s what books smell like. Happiness. That’s why I always wanted to have a bookshop. What better life than to trade in happiness?”
What she had not expected was the desolation. The sense that without him, she was alone in the world. That without his touch, without his companionship, she might not survive the day. The sense that without him, she might not exist. The thought terrified her.
“It’s you who don’t see. I only ever wished you to be the man you are.”
never thought I would have it,” she said softly. “I never thought I was interesting enough. I never thought anyone would love me. To be honest, I never really worried about it. I had my family, and I was happy. And then I met you.” She paused. “And you turned my life upside down.”
