Chapter Thirty-Seven
A vivid blush mounted in Miss Trentham’s cheeks. She looked shy and self-conscious and awkward and apprehensive and embarrassed, all at the same time.
Icarus was abruptly ashamed of himself. He looked away from her. “Letty, we can’t do this. You should go.”
“But you agreed!”
He glanced back at her.
“Don’t change your mind,” Miss Trentham said urgently, laying her hand on his. “Please, Icarus.”
Icarus hesitated. Was it wrong to give her what she wanted? Or wrong not to? Or was this one of those times when every choice was wrong?
I would consider it a gift, Miss Trentham had said.
It wasn’t a gift an honorable man would give her. But they both knew he wasn’t honorable.
“Please, Icarus.”
He looked at her, and heard the plea in her voice—and knew that he was lost
