Even as terror had filled me that he’d reject me, break off the wedding I knew he didn’t want—probably even less than me, considering he’d managed to evade every single one of my father’s invitations for us to meet—he’d raised my veil. And he’d seen. He’d seen what few men would. He’d seen what I was supposed to hide, what fantastic makeup had tucked away, but he’d noticed. Had witnessed the truth of what had gone down a few days ago.
