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“She refused me.”

“She refused you?”

“Tiffany, stop repeating what I’m saying and help me!”

“I am just trying to make sure I understand!” Tiffany shook her head before stopping and staring at him again. “Why on earth would she refuse you?”

Sebastian threw his hands in the air.

“Bullocks if I know.” He took a deep breath. His frustrations were getting the better of him. “She said something about not truly being one of the ton.”

“What does that matter? You are a duke. If she marries you, she will be one of us. She practically is already.” Tiffany shook her head again. “It might be different if she did not have so many friends who are so highly placed in Society, but between us we can⁠—”

“She does not want that.”

“Why not?”

Sebastian took another deep breath. It was not Tiffany’s fault he did not have the answers to these questions. These questions were why he’d come to her in the first place.

“That is what I need you to find out.”

39

Mei

Taking a tray in her room to break her fast was not at all the coward’s way out, Mei reassured herself. She truly was feeling poorly.

After all, she’d slept very little.

Eventually, she’d cried herself to sleep, but then she’d woken up over and over again throughout the night, tossing and turning. She felt more than exhausted; she felt bruised all over, even though there was not a mark on her skin. Not even one from the spanking, which somehow felt disappointing.

Her dreams had been full of Sebastian. Of running to him, only to have him turn away and disappear through a door or down a hall, and she was never quick enough to catch him. Of finding him surrounded by ladies, and when she tried to push her way through to him, everyone had ignored her as if she wasn’t even there, including him. He’d looked right past her.

The worst had been the only dream where she had caught up to him, putting her hand on his arm… the look he’d given her. Shock, contempt, a kind of horror that she would dare. It was only a dream, and that was not at all how Sebastian had ever looked at her in real life, but she’d awoken from that one crying again.

That might not be how he felt about her now, but that was how the ton would feel. Eventually, it might be how he felt, too. Her friends as well. How long would it take for them to get tired of defending her against the relentless push of Society?

Kalina was actually one of them by blood, supported by all their friends, as well as other powerful members of Society, and even that had not been enough to fully quell the whispers. It would be so much worse for Mei. Society could be vicious, and there were plenty of sharp tongues to go around.

Thankfully, when Jocelyn brought Mei’s tray, she was alone. There was a mug of willowbark tea on the tray, likely from Rose. As it was the last full day of the house party, Rose had doubtless felt as though she needed to attend the meals in person.

So, there was no one to question or prod Mei, which was a relief.

She was just finishing eating when there was a knock at her door.

“Come in,” she called, looking up, expecting to see Jocelyn, who had impeccable timing.

Instead, when the door opened, Tiffany walked into her room. Mei jumped to her feet, then lunged forward to grab the tray, which had nearly gone tumbling to the floor from how hard she’d knocked into the table it was on. When she looked up again, Tiffany was looking at her with an odd expression on her beautiful face.

Mei gulped.

In that moment, she was sure that Tiffany knew. Everything. Mei brushed her suddenly sweaty palms against her skirts, trying to rid herself of the clammy feeling that had suddenly engulfed them.

“Good morning,” Tiffany said, looking Mei up and down. The sapphire blue gown she was wearing was cut to fit her perfectly, trimmed with expensive Belgian lace, and made her look every inch the duchess she was. Her eyes were sharp, contemplative, taking in every anxious line of Mei’s body.

“Good morning.” Somehow, Mei managed to get the words out, even though her tongue suddenly felt too thick for her mouth. Her entire body was reacting oddly. Panicked. That’s what she was.

Sitting back down, Mei tried to slow her racing heart, taking deep breaths that somehow did very little to dispel her nerves, even though that had always worked in the past. She felt jittery under Tiffany’s scrutiny. What was her friend thinking?