TwentyI’m afraid you’re going to have to let me ruminate on it,” St. John said.
After so many years of protecting himself, of avoiding all romantic situations, of making sure that no woman could ever come near to breaking his heart the way Georgiana had, he’d finally opened himself up.
And this is what he got.
St. John almost laughed at the irony. He almost cried, so acute was the pain.
He stood up and turned toward the door. He had to go. He had to leave before he unmanned himself. Before his shattered heart cut through the shell of his façade.
“Fungy? Are you all right?” Rose stood up as well. “I hope I haven’t said anything…”
“What? No! No, of course not. I am sorry, Miss Grace, I just realized… there is an appointment I am late for.” He paused. “Regarding Lord Kirtland—I would ad
