Trent did not waste time. He immediately grabbed her hand and hauled her up. It was only then did he realize that she used a garden ladder.

It may be his strength, or it may also be the immense anger that surged inside him. He pulled her up to sit on the windowsill in one fluid motion. Almost immediately after, he carried her through the window and into his bedroom by wrapping an arm around her midriff while the other scooped her legs.

He carefully placed her on the floor. Then he turned around, shut the window, and drew the curtains close with a little too much force.

Then he turned and faced her. Her hand was on her midriff, just where his arm had been. His jaw tightened, voice tight, and eyes narrowed into slits. "Are you hurt?"

She blinked, clearing her throat, before shaking her head. "It's just the wound."

"Which wound?"

She broke into an awkward, guilty laugh. "Nothing to fret about—"

He walked over to her, grabbing her wrist to stare at her midriff. The area was thicker. She had paddings underneath her dress. Then his eyes narrowed, his hand tightening around her wrist. "Do not make me ask again, Carol—"

"I was stabbed," she blurted out, not meeting his eyes.

His blood boiled. He could feel his ears burning. "Look at me, Carol."

She blinked and turned her head slightly away from him. "You're angry. Why would I?"

"Because you know it is best when you face me when I am bloody furious."

Caroline rolled her eyes and looked at him wryly. "What?"

He found himself lost in her gaze for a long time.

Disbelief. Fury. Wonder. Love.

How much more could he feel for this woman?

"I knew it," he gritted out, letting go of her wrist. "It was just too impossible to happen."

He whirled on his heels and raked his fingers through his hair.

"No, you did not know. I fooled you. I fooled everyone."

⠒♣◆♣⠒

The sharp turn he made to face her again encouraged her to take a step back in alarm. He was really angry, Caroline thought.

"You little she-devil," he growled, approaching her, hands on his hips. "You dare sound proud of this!"

Blinking and lifting her chin in a haughty mien, she replied, "Well, I am."

She watched his jaw tighten before her gaze traveled back to his unsmiling eyes that bore into hers, reading her thoughts.

"You do not realize how nervous I was when you strode into the Flower Garden that night. I was afraid you would realize everything and take me out of there."

"You have every reason to be nervous, Carol, because I am this close," he said, lifting a two fingers to show her an inch of space, "this close to strapping you into a chair and lock the bloody room!"

She did not offer a rebuttal because she knew she was at fault. Moistening her lips, she looked about and walked to his bed as her wound was a little sore. And she may need to wait a little longer for his anger to subside.

Folding her hands on her lap, she patiently watched him pace about, constantly brushing his hands through his hair and wiping his face with them in frustration.

Her nostrils flared, a sign of tears.

She missed him. She did not realize how much until she saw him nights ago.

Blinking, she fought the tears that threatened to fall.

But then this was a moment for her to be free.

"How in the bloody hell did you do it?" he finally asked. "Fool Belcourt."

She shrugged. "I have to be honest, Trent, I did not think I could do it so easily. I found that the secret to a successful lie is for the liar to believe it. I simply had to fool myself along with everyone else. I had to pretend even in my head that I have indeed lost my memory. Child's play, really."

He scoffed. "Of course, it's your specialty. You've had me fooled for years."

She stiffened, aware of what he meant. She never told him about her inability to bear a child after the accident. She kept it to herself, all the while convincing herself that her condition did not matter to her, so why would it matter to everyone else?

Ignoring his snide comment, she said, "Well, are you not going to ask me why I am here?"

"I know you are here so I can inform your family that you deliberately entered Belcourt!"

"I did not enter Belcourt. Someone took me there."

"Well, at the very least, the information we have is true," he said, each word laced with fury.

"And I decided to stay."

"Why? Because you fancy being a bloody Belle?"

"No, because I am bloody trapped inside."

Trent sighed, closing his eyes. He was trying to be patient and rational. She waited for him to speak. "But why did you have to pretend, Carol?"

"I was attacked after I was abducted."

"We know. It was Jade who took you. You have been her mission all along. At the very least, that is what Belcourt knows."

"Then it is true," Caroline said, looking at Trent. "The Circus has someone inside Belcourt."

"Of course, we do."

"Then you also know that Belcourt tried to convince me that the Circus is responsible for what happened to me?"

"Yes, but you have not yet answered my question. Why did you have to pretend?"

"Is it not obvious? I woke up inside Belcourt, Trent. I do not know how I got there. They could have taken me in after my attack. They could have done so because they were setting me up for bait. They could have known about my meeting with Esther—which soon learned that they in fact do. The only thing I knew I had to do was assume ignorance and the best way to do so is to pretend I do not know anything at all."

He was looking at her intently, waiting for her to finish speaking. And when she closed her mouth, he asked, "Now, tell me who harmed you."

It was not a request. It was an order.

She blinked. "I cannot recall."

She could not imagine how he would react. That wench was his Belle and as far as she knew, Trent had always been protective of the woman. Caroline trusted him with all her heart, but he may be a victim here. She was merely a friend, and that bloody witch was his lover.

"All I am certain of is that it was Belcourt's doing. It was a pair of women who took me, of that I am certain. It could not be the Circus. But there are hundreds of women in Belcourt, Trent. Now you understand why I have to come up with the memory loss."

"Carol," he said, voice sounding patient, but knowing. "Now that I am facing you and you are no longer trying your best to pretend, you must realize that I do not believe you when you tell me you do not recognize who did this."

"But I truly do not—"

"Carol, I know that it was Jade who made the report about your attack. She claims that it was the Circus. Obviously, it is a lie." He walked closer to the bed, his gaze holding hers prisoner, telling her he would not be pleased if she attempted another lie. "Was Jade the one who attacked you?"

When she remained quiet and only stared at him to gauge his reaction, he burst into a series of expletives, some of which she had not heard from him before. She blinked as he started pacing again, his face dark and menacing.

"She may have done it only because Belcourt manipulated her." His head snapped toward her, eyes glinting with fury. "And because she is obsessed with you." When he only turned away from her, she realized that she had been wrong all along. "Trent, you always get angry whenever I tried to defend her in the past. Why?"

She watched his shoulders rise as he scoffed. Turning, he captured her eyes. "Because I know what she is, Carol."

"But you always told me she is kind and—"

"I only told you want you wished to hear because I knew you only wanted what you thought was best for me."

She closed her mouth and bit her lower lip. She looked down at her fingers and fiddled with her dress. "I desperately want to kill her," she admitted under her breath.

"What?"

Her jaw tightened, tears welling her eyes. "I said I want to kill her with my bare hands." As she said that, her hands started shaking, and she closed them into fists. An overwhelming emotion filled her as she realized that she was free to feel whatever she wanted now that she was with him. Her voice was raw and shaking when she spoke again. "I want to do everything she did to me ten times over—no, a hundred times over and I hate myself for not even feeling guilty about it because I despise her and I despise her even more because she is your Belle—"

In a heartbeat, he pulled her into his arms. His familiar scent and warmth filled her with so much relief, the first she had felt since she woke up in Belcourt.

He kissed her temple as she shook in tears.

"What did she do to you, Carol?" he asked in an unsteady voice.

She shook her head, burying her face in his chest. Her hands clutched the back of his shirt.

"Tell me because I want to know." He sounded gentle, but the anger was there. "Tell me." He gave her a shake.

When she remained quiet, he pulled back, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears of terrible anger as he peered down at her while cupping her face with both hands.

He did not have to speak; his eyes were enough to send his plea. And more tears escaped her eyes. She did not deserve this man, she thought. How could he be so passionate around her? How could he just easily give her this overwhelming loyalty after everything she had done? How could she ever repay?

"After they interrogated me—"

"Who was she with?"

"I cannot say for certain," she said, sniffling. He wiped her tears with the pad of his fingers. "I was blindfolded, but it might have been Ruby." His eyes told her to continue. "They wanted to know about Esther's request and I did not tell them. Somehow, I guess I was able to convince them. They talked. Ruby told her I was useless, that I could not give them the information they demanded."

"Then Jade took you to the forest?"

"Ruby went ahead. I'm uncertain if she knew about Jade's plans, but I am certain now that she knows who tried to kill me."

"And in the forest?"

She started shaking again, this time in fury, and she stepped away from Trent's hold. He let her, perhaps because he was turning very taut, his face becoming darker, as she continued to talk. "She led into the forest while I was still blindfolded. I cannot remember what came first. The strike on my head or the knife into my midriff."

His hand was shaking as he gently caressed her head. He tucked a few tresses of her now-blond hair behind her ear. Caroline knew he was trying to stay calm, but he was miserably failing.

"Bloody tarnation!" he gritted out, withdrawing his hand and balling it into a fist. He paced in front of her. His eyes were closed in concentration as he controlled himself.

"That is all I remember," she said, sitting back onto the bed. "Well, she also said that I did not have to worry because she will take care of you."

When his eyes opened, it stunned Caroline. He was in the angriest state she had ever seen him in. Bloody hell, he may claim to kill a hundred beasts now and she would believe him. His brown eyes were dark with black fire, his shoulders bunched as if ready to pounce.

"Trent, you must control yourself."

He only scoffed.

"You have to because I want to kill this wench myself."

Trent stiffened. "No, you are not going back to Belcourt or your villa—"

"Now, you are being too irrational. If I do that, we will lose the chance of ever knowing what Belcourt is up to. And whoever this person you have inside Belcourt, Trent, that person is in danger."

"I will not have you risk your life—"

"I already almost died twice, Trent," she reminded him. "What makes you think I will fail again on a third?"

"Because you may!" he shouted.

She flinched. "Only then are you allowed to kill her yourself."

"Do not make this a jesting matter—"

"Jade was not truthful with her report, you said. It must mean something, yes?" She stood and approached him. "She is either simply crazy, or she is being used by Belcourt to manipulate me."

"Whatever do you mean?"

She shrugged. "I may think I have fooled them, but how are we to know that I did not? Perhaps the rat you have inside can find out, but remember, Trent, that Belcourt is already aware that they have a traitor in their midst. Even this person you trust inside Belcourt may be in danger."

"And you shall not be one of them!"

"I will see this through!" she cried back, no longer willing to compromise.

"Carol—"

"I came here because I want you to relay a message to my parents. Tell them I am fine and that I will see this through. I have made my decision."

He sighed, shaking his head. "Bloody hell, woman, you make me want to strangle you."

"You can do that after I strangle your Belle, Trent. Better yet, find yourself another Belle."

He scoffed, looking her up and down. Planting his hands on his hips, he grinned at her. "I missed you, Carol. You do not know how much."

She nodded, blinking through her tears. "I missed you, too."

He swallowed, throwing his head back to stare at the ceiling. When his eyes returned to hers, they were clear with tears. "We have much to discuss about us, but this is not the right moment."

She groaned, remembering the fight they after their fight at Birth. "I know."

"We have another fight we have to see through, but let us put that aside for now."

She let out a snort. "Of course. I will prepare for the said fight."

"As shall I," he said with another long sigh, spreading his arms to the side. She stepped into his embrace and he buried his face in the crook of her neck. "I hate your hair."

"I hate my new name."

He nodded. "I am the only one who can call you Carol."

"Every bloody woman in Belcourt calls me Carol. Including your Belle."

His arms tightened around her. She felt a rush of heat pass through her when he planted his lips on her skin. "If you want to see this through, you will have to go now," he murmured against her shoulder.

"I know."

She closed her eyes when his lips lingered on her forehead, and suddenly she did not want to go.

But she pulled away from his arms anyway and squared her shoulders. With a tearful smile, she smoothed his hair with her fingers. "I will need help down the ladder, my lord."

⠒♣◆♣⠒

After another debate, he convinced her he could take her back to her villa without raising suspicion using his unmarked carriage. He waited until she slipped through the door unnoticed.

It may be quite a while before they could see each other again in private, unless he found a way.

Giving his driver the direction of their next destination, Trent took a long breath as it finally dawned on him that he had not lost her.

But the sense of relief he felt was dampened moments later when his carriage pulled to a stop outside Jade's villa.

There, parked across the street, he watched her dark bedroom window.

The villa seemed innocent.

His hands balled.

It was a great struggle not to reach for the door and jump out of the carriage. It took all his will and might not to knock on his Belles' door, let her lead her upstairs to her bedchamber, and then wrap his hands around her neck.

He was angry not because the woman did what he did; he was angry because he should have seen it coming. He was furious because he knew it was all because of him.

He kicked the seat across from him and growled through his teeth.

The tears rolled down his cheeks and angrily dropped on his lap as he raked his fingers through his hair while he screamed in silence; the act engorged the veins in his neck and temple.

He kicked the seat in front of him again because that was all he could do.

Trent tapped the ceiling of his carriage and they rolled out of the street, away from Jade's villa.

They made another stop outside Caroline's place. As he watched the candles in her bedchamber go off, Trent made a decision.

If Caroline was determined to see this through, he had no choice but to support her.

But to do that, he had to be a better actor.