CHAPTER 89: CHAPTER EIGHTY NINE

Ines was huddled in the corner, pressed against his coat. Her eyes were wide, shining with panic in the darkness. She looked small and terrified.

"Carcel..." she whispered.

He didn’t let her speak. He reached in and pulled her out.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest in a crushing, desperate hug.

Ines gasped in surprise at the force of it. "Oh!"

He buried his face in her hair, breathing in the scent of lavender and fear. He held her as if she had almost fallen off a cliff. For a moment, he just needed to feel her, to know she was safe.

But as the relief washed over him, the reality of the situation crashed down.

This was too close. Far, far too close.

He had almost been caught. Rowan had been sitting there. If Ines had sneezed, if she had moved, if the wardrobe door had creaked... it would have been over. His honor, her reputation, his friendship with Rowan—all gone.

He pulled back from the hug. He held her by her shoulders, looking down into her face.

He had to protect her. He had to stop this madness before it ruined her. He couldn’t just take her like this, in secret, like a thief in the night. He needed to do this properly. He needed to court her. He needed to marry her.

But first, they had to stop the sneaking.

"I will take you to your room," he said, his voice low and urgent. "And we should stop meeting like this from now on."

Ines blinked. She stared at him, her hands still resting on his chest.

"What?" she whispered.

Carcel took a breath. He tried to be sensible. "We should stop with the lessons, Ines. This... this is dangerous. I was already planning to leave this house tomorrow morning."

He meant that he was going to leave to set up a proper household, to prepare to ask for her hand the right way. He meant that he couldn’t stay under the same roof as her without touching her, and touching her was dangerous until she was his wife.

But Ines didn’t hear that.

Ines heard rejection.

She pulled away from the hold. Her arms dropped to her sides. She stepped back, creating a cold distance between them.

"You..." she stammered, her voice trembling. "You want us to stop this?"

Carcel ran a hand through his messy hair. He was frustrated, adrenaline still coursing through his veins. "Yes," he said, too sharply. "Meeting in secret like this... aren’t you tired of it? Hiding in wardrobes? Lying to your brother?"

Ines looked as if she had been slapped.

The blood drained from her face.

Tired? she thought.

Her mind spiraled. The insecurity that had plagued her earlier returned with a vengeance.

Does he mean... he is tired of me?

She thought of her question earlier, about the maid and the footman. She thought of how she had wondered if she was pressuring him.

Did he misunderstand my words? she panicked. Did he think I was demanding marriage? Did he think I was trying to trap him? And now... now he is running away. He is leaving the house tomorrow. To get away from me.

She felt a sob rising in her throat. She had ruined it. She had pushed too hard, wanted too much.

"Carcel," she said, her voice breaking. She reached out and grabbed his hand, clutching it tightly. "You misunderstood. Earlier... when I asked about the servants... I didn’t mean to pressure you."

Carcel frowned, confused. "What?"

"I know you don’t want marriage!" she cried softly, tears spilling from her eyes. "I know about your past. Rowan told me. I understand. I didn’t mean to make you feel trapped. I just... I just was just curious. Please. Don’t leave because of me."

Carcel stared at her. She thought he was leaving because he didn’t want her? Because he was afraid of marriage?

"Ines," he said, his heart aching. "No. That isn’t it. I want to—"

He was about to tell her. He was about to tell her he wanted to marry her.

But he never got the chance.

The door handle turned.

It wasn’t slow this time. It was a quick, decisive movement.

Ines and Carcel both froze. They turned their heads toward the door in horror.

They hadn’t heard the footsteps. They had been too wrapped up in their own panic, their own misunderstanding.

The door swung open.

Rowan stood there.

He looked concerned as he entered inside, not looking up immediately.

"Carcel," Rowan said, his voice brisk. "I forgot to ask. What time are you leaving tomorrow? I need to know so that I can have the maids prepare for..."

He looked up.

He stopped mid-track. He stopped mid-sentence. He stopped breathing.

The room was silent. Deadly silent.

Rowan looked at the scene before him.

He saw his best friend, Carcel. His shirt was unbuttoned, his hair wild. He was standing by the wardrobe.

And he saw Ines.

She was standing in the middle of the guest room.

She was wearing a thin, midnight-blue silk nightgown that clung to her body. One strap had slipped off her shoulder.

Her hair was a wild, tangled halo around her face, messy from the bed.

Her face was flushed.

And her lips... her lips were swollen, red, and bitten. The undeniable, unmistakable sign of a woman who had been thoroughly kissed.

And she was holding Carcel’s hand. She was looking at him with tears in her eyes, her body leaning toward him.

It was intimate. It was undeniable. It was damning.

Rowan stared. He looked from Carcel to Ines, and back to Carcel. His brain refused to process it for a second. It was impossible. It was unthinkable.

But then, the reality settled in. The "diary." The "French lessons." The smiles.

The scent of lavender.

It all clicked into place with a violent, sickening snap.

Rowan’s face changed. The confusion vanished. The tiredness vanished.

It was replaced by a red, hot, terrifying rage.

His hands curled into fists at his sides. His body began to shake.

He looked at Carcel, the man he had trusted with his life. The man he had trusted with his sister.

"What," Rowan said.

His voice was not loud. It was a low, dangerous growl that shook the very air in the room.

"What are you two doing," he hissed, taking a step forward, his eyes blazing with fury, "right now!"