Her fingers tightened around the handle of her reticule.
How desperate did he imagine her to be? Desperate enough to accept anything?
Apparently, he thought so, as his next words proved otherwise. "An arrangement that would have saved your family," he clarified, clearly unbothered.
The words struck harder than she expected.
Her silence seemed to encourage him as he continued, "But instead, you chose to make a spectacle of yourself. I suppose you thought refusing my father would leave you with better options," he taunted.
Penelope's voice was quiet, her heart hammering in her chest. "I never needed better options."
He smiled and said, "That is what women say when they have none."
A silence fell between them.
The modiste's shop continued around them—fabric being unfolded, scissors moving across tables, quiet conversations carrying through the room, eyes flickering in their direction.
Yet for Penelope, everything narrowed towards his voice.
