“It is late, though.” Sophie gave her wine another swirl. “There’s lots to do tomorrow, Emmaline.”
“I should go,” Tristan muttered, but there was no conviction or will behind his words.
“I’ll miss you,” I said, even though I’d already said that back in the kitchen.
“I’ll miss you,” he echoed huskily. He stepped back slowly,heavily, as if fighting the pull of something much stronger than he.
Sophie waited as he walked to the door, pretending to be more preoccupied with sipping her wine than interacting with us. Once the door closed behind him, she lowered her glass and said, “You didn’t have to make him leave on my account.”
I sighed at her ridiculous comment. After all, she’d obviously been trying to force him out. Disappointed as I was, the reverberations of the kiss stayed, enveloping me in feverish warmth.
“I know.” I responded to her several moments after I should have. “Let’s...” Giddiness descended on me, a mix of kisses and wine. “Let’s put away the collection and get some sleep.”
We headed toward the kitchen, falling in step with each other. The biting scent of red wine mixed acridly with her violet–witch hazel perfume. I should’ve been annoyed at her for interrupting my time with Tristan, but I could hardly think straight. Beside me, Sophie let out a high-pitched sigh.
“You know, Tristan proposed to me once,” she said casually.
I fell back a few steps, my legs wobbly beneath me.
“What?”
“Oh, it was a while ago.” She waved her free hand flippantly in the air. “But don’t worry—it was no great matter.”
No great matter? I knew they’d been together, butmarriage... that was more than I ever imagined between them. Marriage was sacred, it was forever, and he’d wanted it withher.
“I asked him to.” She turned her attention from me to her wineglass, running her finger around its rim, still unconcerned. “I wanted to get away from Alexander. But then I was acceptedinto the Fashion House, and I figured that was a better plan. Tristan was a dear about it. Even bought me a little gold band.”
“You... so you asked him to do it.” I struggled to understand. All the elation from Tristan’s kiss evaporated, replaced by the nighttime chill and this new information. “He—he was doing it to help you.”
“Yes, exactly. That’s how he is, you know. Always helping the people he cares about, no matter what.”
“I know.” I tried not to sound snappish, peeved.
“Of course you do. He is your beau, after all.”
“Yes.” Despite my efforts, I was speaking too quickly. I couldn’t stop myself. “He is. He’s with me.”
And not you.
She inclined her head slowly, mysteriously elegant in her rumpled dress. Then she gave a fleeting smile, and proceeded up the stairs, one hand on the rail, the other still clutching her glass.
I watched her figure recede upward until it was swallowed by the darkness swathing the higher steps. Tremulously, I took a breath. I willed myself to lift a foot onto the first stair. I couldn’t stay here all night. Not with so much to do and no time to do it in. But I stood there, one foot up on the stair, the other planted on the floor, suspended between up and down.
He’d been trying to help her. It hadn’t meant anything to him. Or to her. What we had was special, different. Still, even as I told myself that, the emptiness in my chest contracted into one constant, steady ache behind my heart—the same one I’d felt earlier.
At some point, I started shivering, and my teeth chattered. I roused my chilled limbs into movement. Standing still never got me anywhere or made anything better. And the longer I stood there, the more hurt and confused I became.
The only thing to do was keep climbing.
Chapter Nineteen
IWOKE EARLY THE NEXTmorning and went downstairs, leaving Sophie asleep in my bed. My mother was already up—I heard her moving about the kitchen. Wordlessly, I joined her at the sink, where she was scrubbing potatoes. I picked up one of the grubby potatoes and a brush.
“Are you all right, Emmy?” my mother asked as I slowly scrubbed the brush over the potato’s uneven slope.
“I...” I didn’t know if I should tell her about Tristan. She might see him as she saw everything from the city: a bad influence drawing me away from her. “Things are just so complicated.”
“Is this, by chance, about a young man?”
