Chapter Ten : Tea and Lies
600 Words
Tasia’s carriage rattled along wet cobblestones.
She sat rigid, gloved hands clasped tight in her lap.
Across from her, Lady Logan watched with the practiced calm of a woman used to getting her way.
“Smile,” her mother reminded her.
Tasia didn’t respond.
Her mother’s eyes narrowed.
“Do you want to embarrass us? Ruin everything?”
Tasia swallowed. Her throat felt raw.
She forced the corners of her mouth upward.
It wasn’t a smile.
It was a grimace of surrender.
The Campbell townhouse loomed as the carriage stopped.
Dark stone. Black ironwork. Heavy doors.
Tasia felt like she was approaching a prison.
A footman opened the door. She stepped out, wobbling slightly.
For a terrifying second her vision spun—gray and black around the edges.
She caught herself on the rail, breathing hard.
Her mother didn’t notice—or didn’t care.
“Head up,” Lady Logan snapped.
Tasia obeyed.
Inside, the parlor was stiff with old money.
Chase was already there.
He stood when they entered.
He looked terrible.
Dark circles under his eyes. Clothes impeccable, but rumpled around the edges.
Their eyes met.
Something passed between them.
Regret. Anger. Hurt.
And something softer, unspoken.
He cleared his throat. “Lady Logan. Tasia.”
She bobbed a polite curtsy.
“Lord Campbell,” she whispered.
Chase’s father sat in a high-backed chair like a throne.
He regarded her with clinical coldness.
“You’re late,” he said.
Lady Logan smiled with steely charm. “Traffic, I’m afraid.”
He sniffed. “Shall we take tea?”
They sat.
Tea was poured.
Silence stretched like a blade.
Tasia held her cup so tightly her knuckles whitened.
She didn’t trust her hands to stop shaking.
Chase stared at her.
He opened his mouth once. Closed it.
She didn’t look away.
Finally his father broke the silence.
“Well? Are you two going to speak?”
Tasia flinched.
Chase swallowed.
“Tasia.”
She forced herself to meet his gaze.
“I...wanted to apologize,” he said hoarsely.
She blinked.
An apology?
It felt like salt in a wound.
She opened her mouth. No words came.
His eyes pleaded.
“Please,” he added softly.
His father cleared his throat loudly.
Tasia remembered her mother’s command.
Win him.
Make him choose you.
She lowered her lashes.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
She tried to say more.
Tried to tell him I’m breaking. I’m afraid. I’m angry. I need you to choose me.
But nothing came out.
Her hand trembled so badly she sloshed tea onto her skirt.
She dropped the cup.
Porcelain cracked. Tea spread across the fine rug.
Silence.
Her face went hot with shame.
Chase started to rise, but his father’s hand shot out in warning.
Lady Logan hissed, “Tasia!”
Tasia blinked tears from her eyes, willing them not to fall.
“I—I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Chase’s father’s lip curled.
“Graceful as ever,” he muttered.
Chase shot to his feet.
“Father.”
But Tasia was already rising unsteadily.
She curtsied, humiliated.
“Excuse me,” she whispered, voice shaking.
She turned and fled the room, skirts brushing the ruined tea.
Chase watched her go.
His fists clenched.
He felt his father’s eyes on him.
“Sit,” the older man ordered.
Chase didn’t move.
He was staring at the door.
Outside in the hall, Tasia pressed a hand to her belly.
Pain lanced through her.
She swallowed it down.
Don’t cry. Don’t let them see.
She straightened her back.
And walked out of that house without looking back.
- Writer
