“So you take advantage of her problem?” He realized he shouted the question. Taking a breath, he worked to calm his anger. “Where is the jewelry now?”
Her features were impassive. “Gone. I fenced it all.”
He swore under his breath. “I want an accounting of where and when. You will hope that I can recover it. Send it to me at Bow Street as soon as possible.”
“Are you going to arrest us?”
Harry wiped his hand over his face. “I should.” There was so much more he wanted to ask, to say, but he couldn’t think past his fury and humiliation. She’d completely deceived him. He was an utter fool. Heart hammering, he pinned her with a dark stare. “Don’t run—I’ll find you.” Anguish cut through him, a knife cleaving his flesh. “Damn you, Selina.”
To think, he’d not only believed her, he’d been captivated by her. She was the first woman he’d imagined spending his life with. What did that say about him?
Reeling with self-disgust, he spun on his heel and stalked from the sitting room.
Selina stood frozen, unable to move. The sound of the front door slamming made her twitch. The room closed in around her, making her feel as if she were already in a jail. But hadn’t she been for some time? She thought she had control, choice, the ability to forge her own future.
Instead, she was trapped by her past. At least in her mind.
A sob rose in her throat, and her eyes burned. No, no, no. After all this time, all this hurt… Now, she would cry?
Selina went back to the settee, where the memory of his hands and mouth on her provoked a profound emptiness. She’d never know that sense of belonging, that bone-deep joy she’d shared with him again. Her knees buckled, and she sank onto the cushion.
Hot tears snaked down her cheeks. She couldn’t breathe.
“Selina?”
Beatrix’s soft voice somehow broke through Selina’s pain. Then Beatrix was beside her on the settee, her hand on Selina’s back, gently stroking as she laid her head on Selina’s shoulder.
“What happened?”
Selina didn’t want to say. No, she couldn’t. That was different. So she wiped her face and turned her head to look at Beatrix. “Where were you?” She’d told Harry that Beatrix was upstairs, but that, like so many things she’d said to him, was a lie.
Beatrix lifted a shoulder. “Just out.”
“Were you spying on your father again?”
Beatrix had taken to stealing into the garden next to her father’s house so she could see into his study.
“No.”
Selina stared at her in frank disbelief. “You’re wearing breeches, and your hair is pinned so that you could hide it beneath a hat.”
“Fine, yes. Why are you asking me about that when you’re crying? I’ve never seen you cry. Not once.” Beatrix’s eyes were wide with deep concern. “Tell me what happened.”
Selina stood and walked to the windows. Her body felt as if it were carved of wood. “I told Harry the truth.”
“What truth?” Beatrix’s question was sharp and apprehensive.
Turning, Selina saw that Beatrix had risen also. “Everything. That I’m Madame Sybila. That we stole the jewelry.”
“I stole the jewelry,” Beatrix said fiercely.
“I fenced it. Harry wants a list of where and when I sold the pieces.”
“That’s easy.”
“I can’t do it.” She’d sold all of it to the Golden Lion. “Rafe likely owns the shop, and I don’t want to involve him.”
“You’d rather go to jail?”
“Beatrix, we may go to jail anyway.” Selina pressed a hand to her suddenly throbbing temple. “No, I won’t allow that. I told him you had a problem with taking things. You aren’t going to jail.”
“Stop trying to protect me.” Beatrix pinned her with a dark stare. “I knew what I was doing. As I always remind you, we do this together. We always have. You have always protected me, even when I am foolish and unable to control my impulses. Especially at those times.”
Love for Beatrix swelled in Selina’s heart. “I’ll go to the Golden Lion first thing tomorrow and retrieve the items.”
“They’ll charge you more than what you sold them for.”
“I know. But it has to be done.” Selina actually felt a weight lifting from her. She hated that she’d stolen from the women who’d trusted her. Particularly Harry’s mother. “I have to return the donations too.”
“We’ll have nothing,” Beatrix said, sounding defeated.
“Close to, yes. I’m sorry.”
Beatrix came toward her. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t care about the Season, not compared to what you’ve lost.” She fell silent a moment, and Selina feared her throat would crack under the pressure of unshed tears. “Will he forgive you?”
A near-hysterical laugh bubbled in Selina’s chest, but she didn’t let it out. “Why should he? I betrayed him horribly.”
“Do you love him?” Beatrix asked.
Love. Selina barely knew what that felt like, and that was only sibling love. Romantic love? She’d never experienced it. She’d never expected it. But she knew pain, and she absolutely felt that. Not for herself, but for the hurt she’d caused Harry. How she wished she could take it all away, to make it so that she’d never deceived him.
Selina swallowed, wishing the ball of emotion clogging her throat would go away. “It doesn’t matter. There is no hope. There never was any.”
Beatrix put a hand on her hip. “Why not? You are free to choose what you do, and a life with Harry would be comfortable and, dare I say, happy. Especially since he loves you too.”
Scrubbing her hand across her forehead, Selina pressed her lips together. “He doesn’t. He’s likely going to arrest me.”
“He would have done so already.” Beatrix smiled. “Ergo, he loves you.”
“How can he?” Selina raised her voice, which she almost never did. “I stole from his mother. I lied to her and to him. We—” She couldn’t bear to say what they’d done together. The moments they’d shared in each other’s arms were the happiest she’d ever known. And now the guilt that accompanied them nearly drove her to her knees.
Gasping, Selina clapped her hand over her mouth. But it was useless. The tears came again, streaming down her face unchecked. Beatrix wrapped her arms around her and held her tight. Though Selina was much taller, she leaned her head against her sister’s—for she was her sister in every way that mattered—and let the emotion flow out of her.
After some time, Selina finally took a step back. She wiped her hands over her face, but she really needed a handkerchief. “Who knew I could be such a watering pot?” She tried to smile, but the attempt failed.
“It’s lovely, actually,” Beatrix said, sounding far more positive than anyone ought. “You need a bath and some tea with brandy. Perhaps not in that order. Then you’ll sleep. We’ll return the money, get the jewels back, and make things right with Harry.”
Selina nodded, though she knew the last was not possible. Nothing would ever be right with Harry, nor should it be. She’d glimpsed joy for the first time, and now she knew her suspicions were true: happiness was not for her.