The Virgin
“Yes,” Juliette agreed. “Lovely name.”
“Did you come here to talk about my assistant? We can if you like. She’s going on a date tonight, and I’m not taking it well.”
Juliette gave him a tight smile and laughed to herself.
“I came here because I can.” She looked uncomfortable, nervous, out of her element. It took everything in his power to not grab her and drag her up to his bedroom. “Thanks to you.”
“You said you wanted freedom. Freedom was the only thing you wanted. You wanted it more than you wanted me. So I gave it to you.”
“I didn’t expect you to pay for my mother’s medical bills.”
“I didn’t expect you to find me. You wanted freedom. Now you have it.”
He’d had Calliope set up a third-party medical trust fund account and had all of Juliette’s mother’s medical expenses paid through it. Everything was in Juliette’s name and nothing was in his.
“You left without telling me where you lived, what your name was,” Juliette said.
“You said you didn’t want to be beholden to anyone. It was a gift. No strings attached.” Kingsley had made sure of that. Calliope set up everything so that Juliette could never find him through the accounts. It was hers, free and clear. Leaving without telling her goodbye, without telling her how to find him had been the hardest thing he’d ever done.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she said.
“No, I didn’t.”
Kingsley didn’t say anything else. He didn’t trust himself to speak right now.
“I left him,” she said at last.
“Did you?”
She nodded.
“I haven’t really loved him in a long time. He’s not an evil man. He’s actually... I wish him well,” she said. “I told him he should be with someone who does love him, but it would never be me.”
“Was he angry?”
“Shocked. He wanted to know where the money came from.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I said I found a buried treasure on the beach.”
Kingsley swallowed hard. He would have laughed if he could have. Right now he could barely breathe, much less laugh.
“How did you find me?” Kingsley asked.
“Gérard had me help him with his work. I know how to find people. I knew your first name, your age, that you lived in Manhattan. Took a while, but here you are. Kingsley Edge—you weren’t joking. You have your own kingdom. Must be nice.”
“I’m afraid to ask you what you’re doing here. But I’ll do it anyway. Why did you come here?”
Juliette shrugged and crossed her arms over her chest.
“I went to visit my mother since I could. The first trip I’ve ever taken that he didn’t pay for.”
“How is she?”
“She’s comfortable,” Juliette said. “But her doctor said she’s not improving.”
“I’m sorry about that. Truly.”
“She’s happy and they treat her like a queen. That’s all I care about.”
“What did you do after visiting her?” Kingsley asked. Juliette glanced around the entryway. He hoped his home didn’t disappoint.
“I traveled Europe. I liked Germany very much. And Italy. They were my favorites. After Paris, of course.”
“Of course.”
“I thought about you while I was traveling,” Juliette said. “About what we had together and what you did for me. I thought about how I’d wanted freedom for years now and how you’d given it to me without asking anything in return. And I came to a conclusion...”
Kingsley had trouble speaking. His throat was tight and his hands were trembling. He shoved them into the pockets of his jacket.
“And what is the conclusion you came to?” he finally asked, keeping his voice as neutral as possible.
Juliette looked at him. Then she smiled.
“Freedom is overrated.”
34
Upstate New York
HER BAG WAS packed, and inside it Elle had all her clothes, her handwritten copy of The Virgin, the copy of Bulfinch’s Mythology that she’d stolen from the convent library and the two pieces of riding crop she hadn’t been able to bring herself to throw away.
All day long she was an electric bundle of energy. She did everything she could to stay calm and stay focused, but she couldn’t stop smiling, couldn’t stop panicking. She was leaving. Finally. Getting out of here. She’d been trapped in a convent for months and months and was so ready to leave she could scarcely breathe the air inside anymore.
Elle had only one loose end to tie up. Her mother. She’d avoided thinking about her mom in the two months since she and Kyrie had decided to run away together. Her mother was certain that if Elle left here, she’d run right back into Søren’s arms. Knowing her mother, she’d likely prefer that to Elle admitting she’d been sleeping with a woman for the past two months.
But still...Elle had to say goodbye somehow, some way. If she went and hugged her mother, that would be far too suspicious. And if she told her mother she was leaving, her mother would do everything in her power to get her to stay. She’d make a scene, start a fight. Kyrie was too fragile to handle leaving under those conditions.
And Elle too...this decision to leave felt fragile, as well. She was afraid to leave but more afraid not to. When would she see her mother again? They’d found a little peace together under this roof, behind these walls. But Elle couldn’t stay just for her. Elle knew her destiny, unlike her mother’s, didn’t live behind these walls. As much as it hurt, she had to go. And since she had to go, she had to say goodbye. Elle decided on a letter. It was the only way.