She was thinking too much, she thought.

He tore his lips from hers, trailing it along her jaw and to her ear. "What are you thinking?" he rasped, blowing hot air into her lobes. Then his mouth returned to hers, kissing her senseless, driving her thoughts away one word at a time. "Stop thinking, Carol. Just once," he said against her mouth, gently pushing her against the wall. "Be free."

She had been free before. And look where it landed her — No, Caroline, stop thinking! The voice inside her demanded, willing her hands to move, to explore his chest, his shoulders, his hair.

To feel.

A tear escaped her closed eye, and she whimpered, wrapping her arms around his neck in surrender.

He a flower, was he not? Just not hers. And she was a Belle tonight, was she not? Just not his.

But even so, tonight she was not Caroline Comhar. She was a different woman who yearned for a man's touch.

She at least deserved a kiss.

And perhaps his hand, she thought as his right hand cupped her breast over her gown.

Their heavy, fiery breaths mingled, echoing in the quiet corners of the room.

And then he stilled and tore his mouth from hers, leaning his forehead against hers, his breathing shaking. He withdrew his hand, and a strangled cry of protest escaped her lips. She felt his smile against her mouth. He nipped at her lower lip while his hands cupped her face, tilting it up, urging her to open her eyes and meet his gaze, which she did and she wanted to cry again.

"Do you think you can stop seeing me as just your friend?" he asked.

How could she not? He asked it while his lips brushed against hers, testing her control.

She raked her fingers through his hair and pulled him down toward her, stepping closer into him. "Trent, you will always be my friend," she whispered, bracing for his reaction by resisting his move to step back. "But I also see you as a man."

He froze and searched her eyes. His hands wrapped around her as he pressed against the wall with a groan, burying his face in the crook of her neck. "And yet you refuse to be my wife," he whispered.

She bit her lip. "We promised to discuss that bit once I am out of Belcourt."

He nodded, understanding her need. Guilt struck her then, for how could she be so selfish? He clearly wanted to talk, but she was denying him of that. He wanted to make things clear, but she was afraid to do it. Funny, really, that she found comfort in the vagueness of it all.

He nodded again, and Caroline sensed something from him—a kind of resolve. He pulled away from her, completely peeling himself off her. She frowned, blinking in confusion.

His hands on his hips, he sighed. "I will never claim you until you agree to be my wife."

Caroline's mouth fell open. "What?"

With a shrug, he nonchalantly said, "I will remain chaste until you beg to be my wife, Carol. I will not have you any other way."

She scoffed. "I just told you I see you as a man, Trent."

"Yes, and I am glad that you do. Also that you are not embarrassed to say it."

"There is no shame in that."

"Yes." He smiled. "But while you are being selfish, Carol, I think I will also have to be the same."

"You will suffer."

He frowned. "Why?"

"You will constantly want me," she proclaimed with confidence.

He chuckled. "Good God, Carol, you do not have the least inkling of the amount of control I have." He fixed his cravat. Stealing her a look, he grinned. And he bent down to kiss her and before it turned into something close to what she wanted, he pulled back again. "I will not be entirely selfish, of course. You can kiss me whenever you feel the need to, but you will have to beg for the rest."

She let out an incredulous huff. "You dare manipulate me?"

"I would not consider it as such, but perhaps I am. I know you too well, Carol. I know you will eventually beg to be my wife."

"Then you will never know if I will beg for it out of lust or something else."

His eyes narrowed. "No. The moment you come to me to beg, Carol, I think you will tell me the reason, because you know I deserve it. You may be a little selfish now, but you are not heartless." He planted another soft kiss on her lips. "Good night, darling."

⠒♣◆♣⠒

When Caroline returned to her bedchamber, she found Robert inside, sitting in a corner.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded.

Neither the darkness nor the weary look on his face could not hide his striking feature. Robert was indeed a beautiful man. Sharp-edged jaw and overbearing lips and eyes that invited danger. If she did not know he was the oddest bore, she may have swooned at the sight of the man.

But like her friend Ellise, Robert was too dry. His bluntness and lack of charm made him amusing, but only when everything else was boring.

"I am your flower."

"Yes, I know. What are you doing here?"

"I am expected to stay the night."

"From whose book?"

"From everyone's eyes."

"No one is judging you by the location of your sleeping arrangement, Robert." She walked to the window and looked out. The garden was still lit and there were still a few guests roaming around.

"I do not want your Belle friends to think I am after something else when I became a Gentleman of Belcourt."

She turned to him and frowned. "Very well. You can stay here for an hour."

"Three."

She blinked. "No one will time your stay here."

"I will."

"And why three?"

"That is long enough for a copulation."

Caroline scoffed in disbelief. "You time those activities?"

"The longest was six."

"I would not even ask for names or numbers." She shook her head and turned away. "You might as well sleep here."

He watched her as she moved to the partition to dress and stood to look out the window, his back turned to her.

"Were you with Chalbarth?"

"Yes, for a short time. Why?" Caroline tried to hurry, discarding herself of her gown and stepping into a nightdress.

"You should be careful," he said. "His Belle is quite the possessive kind."

She scoffed without saying a word. Wrapping herself in a robe, she stepped out of the partition and sat on her bed.

He sensed she was done and turned to her, his face shadowed by the light streaming through the window. "You are lucky I ran into her while she was in search for her flower."

Caroline sighed. "What did you tell her?"

"That you are in your bedchamber waiting for me. And that I saw Trent in one of the gaming rooms."

"And where is she now?"

"In one of the gaming rooms, probably." He returned to his seat and crossed his leg over the other. "Are you having troubles with Chalbarth?"

Caroline's brows fused into a frown. "Are you engaging me in a conversation?"

"Three hours is quite long."

Caroline let out a breath. "No, I do not have troubles with Chalbarth."

"Then it does not bother you he is with his Belle?"

"No, of course not. It is his task to be with her."

When he did not say more, she looked at him. Then he shrugged.

"What?"

"I believe I now understand why Trent is constantly an emotional mess because of you."

Caroline frowned. "Why? Tell me."

Robert narrowed his eyes at her. "Do you truly not understand? Or are you merely playing dumb?"

"While you may think everyone is dumb save for yourself, Robert, I promise you I am not acting as one at the moment because I truly do not understand what you are talking about."

"I made a conclusion after merely a few days observing the two of you, Caroline, so I think you truly need to work on your deductive skills." When she only glared, he frowned. "Do you want me to tell you, or do you want him to tell you?"

Caroline gritted her teeth. Then she reconsidered Robert's question. Did she want to know? But what did Robert know? The man could be wrong for all she cared.

Then why was she afraid?

"I can sense that you are anxious."

"I am not."

"Because you are afraid it might change things? I wonder why you would think that, given you are to marry the man."

Her jaw tightened.

"Ah, then is trouble between you and Chalbarth," Robert said, voice filled with understanding.

She threw him a sharp look. "Trent and I are perfectly fine."

"The trouble, of course, is that you both want different things." For the first time, Caroline saw something painted on Robert's face. The bastard was looking amused. "You are in love with him and he does not return the feeling."

Caroline blinked. Then she blinked and swallowed.

Was he right?

But that could not be.

Trent was her friend—her best friend. Yes, he kissed well, and she was certain he would be an excellent lover.

But Caroline had been through love and heartaches. She knew what love was.

Her love for Trent was nothing like the one she experienced with—No, it could not be what Robert was trying to imply.

Her love for Trent was something much more than that kind of love.

"Or maybe he loves you and you are too dense to see it."

"What did you say?" she asked, her brow twitching.

"Or you are both conflicted because you have loved each other in another way that the thought of doing so in a different manner is triggering a little tension."

Her jaw tightened. But he could be right.

But this was Robert Dior she was talking to! He did not talk about love. He was not capable of it!

"Therefore, I advise, Caroline, that you and Trent talk about these feelings because the two of you are complicating matters for the Circus. I cannot have two emotionally unstable people running around without caution." His tone was serious now and filled with warning.

Caroline swallowed. She barely dealt with what he previously presented to her, and now he was talking about solving it with Trent. Of course! Typical Robert Dior!

"Well? How will you do it? Would you like to do it now?"

She blinked. "Are you insane!" she hissed. "Nothing is wrong between Trent and I. Stop with your bloody theories."

"I am not making theories, Caroline. It does not take a scholar to know what is going on between you two. I suggest you tell him now."

"Tell him what?" she incredulously asked.

"That you love him."

"But—"

"Then if you do not, tell him you cannot have him. Let the man deal with it now rather than later."

"But I am not—"

Robert glared at her and then groaned. "Good Lord, do not tell me you have not sorted out your own feelings, woman."

"What I can tell you, Robert, is that however my feelings are doing now is separate from my mission. Trent is also doing his best."

He scoffed. "One would think women have a stronger grasp of their emotions."

"You are talking about just one woman, Robert."

"Who?"

"Ellise, of course!"

"Well, Ellise is a splendidly well-developed woman. She is a rather good standard for others, most particularly her friends."

Caroline groaned and fell back onto the cushion. "Why am I trapped with this bloody man for a flower?" she mumbled, closing her eyes.

Robert let the silence reign for a while. When he broke it, he said, "They may be copulating now as we speak. I suggest you assess your feelings about that thought."

"Shut your mouth, Robert."

⠒♣◆♣⠒

When Caroline arrived in Coulway with Fatima three days later, a letter was already waiting for her.

"She has been recourted!" she heard Carrie hiss at Fatima while the woman dragged the maid into the kitchen.

Caroline chose not to listen in as she knew she would get more answers about her servants' secrets soon.

She focused on the letter.

It had Belcourt's seal.

Dear Caroline,

I hope that you are doing fine.

It will be my pleasure if you can join me in the Palace within the week.

Best,

Arielle

Caroline closed the letter.

Arielle wanted a report.

But what bloody report could she give?