"Why did you run to him instead of confiding in me?"
The question had haunted Ashlynn ever since Isabell told her who had betrayed her secret to Owain, and why Jocelynn had done it. Now, she finally had a chance to ask for the answer she needed, and her heart trembled as she watched a myriad of emotions play across Jocelynnâs face.
"You... youâre going to hate me, once I tell you," Jocelynn said, lowering her eyes and wringing her hands in her lap. "Youâre going to think Iâm silly and stupid and..."
"Jocey," Ashlynn interrupted sternly. "The truth," she said bluntly. "I just... I just need the truth from you. Then we can talk about it and what it means. But, please," she said, holding back a sob of her own as she looked at the sister sheâd been missing so long, who felt so far away even though they were sitting on the same sofa. "Please, just tell me the truth."
"All right," Jocelynn said, taking a deep, shuddering breath to gather her thoughts. She sat there for several heartbeats as she tried to piece together the answer for herself in a way that she could explain to Ashlynn. She didnât expect forgiveness for what sheâd done, but she hoped that maybe, just maybe, Ashlynn would understand.
"Itâs because I danced with Serge Otker at your wedding feast," Jocelynn said, prompting a look of incredulous doubt from Ashlynn. "No, itâs true, but itâs more than that. Itâs not Sergeâs fault, exactly, but he was the wave that finally sank me..."
Ashlynn said nothing. She just sat there, calmly watching Jocelynn while a storm raged behind her emerald eyes, and she waited for her sister to tell her story. For Jocelynn, those emerald eyes felt as heavy as anchors, and her story had become the chains that would drag her to the bottom of the sea of her sisterâs fury, but...
But Isabell had been right. She had to face this moment directly. And then, maybe, finally, her sister would explode over how hateful and petty sheâd been. Jocelynn didnât think she could survive her sisterâs fury; sheâd seen firsthand what Ashlynn had done to Owain after all. But, it would be a fitting end, one sheâd earned a hundred times over.
So, the very least she could do was to give Ashlynn the answers she needed, and then she could accept her final end.
"Father started it," Jocelynn explained. She couldnât make herself hold Ashlynnâs gaze, so she turned her eyes toward the fire that Sir Ollie had built in the hearth while her mind replayed the events of that dreadful day.
"He told me that, since I didnât fancy any of the merchant men heâd introduced me to at my coming of age ball, I should take the chance to dance with a frontier lord," Jocelynn said slowly. "He said that Owain wasnât the only charming, heroic man in the frontier, and I should take this chance to see if anyone caught my fancy."
At the time, sheâd resented her father for trying to force her to âmarry downâ into the prosperous guilds of Blackwell City. Sheâd thought of a future among the Linemen, her days filled with fishguts and the scent of a fresh catch that would never leave her nose, or a life with the Carters and long days spent bumping along dusty roads, following goods as they flowed inland from the sea...
She hated it. She hated the idea of it, and she hated it even more when she met the âperfectâ hero her sister was âluckyâ enough to marry. So, when her father had finally relented and offered her the chance to attract the eye of the young lords of the frontier, sheâd leaped at the opportunity.
"I was excited at first, until I tried suggesting to someone that they could take me for a turn on the dancefloor," Jocelynn continued, her face turning bright red with shame as she remembered the moment.
"You could have danced with anyone at the wedding," Ashlynn said gently as she watched her sister struggling with her story. "What made you choose Serge Otker?"
"I didnât!" Jocelynn snapped, only to clap her hand over her mouth as she fought to contain her own outburst. "I, I didnât go to Serge. But the person I went to, the most handsome young lord I saw without a partner, he, he turned me down cold."
"Who was it?" Ashlynn asked, raising a brow as she wondered who could have turned her sister away over something as simple as a dance. At an event like Ashlynnâs wedding feast, a dance was an important introduction to be sure, but it was hardly a promise of marriage, and to snub the sister of the bride...
"Liam Dunn," Jocelynn said, shocking Ashlynn as she named the man who had served as Ashlynnâs herald for the night and brokered the alliance between her and the Dunn Barony. "He, he said he had a woman in his heart who wasnât there," Jocelynn explained. "But that she wouldnât understand if he was dancing with strange women, so he couldnât take my hand..."
"Ah," Ashlynn said, nodding as understanding dawned. The woman Liam had loved went missing months ago, but sheâd been a commoner, unaccustomed to the expectations placed on the lords and ladies of the realm. She might really have resented it if the man she fancied had been seen dancing with other women at the ball she could never have attended.
Ashlynn was certain that Liam hadnât meant anything hurtful by it, and she could imagine that Loghlan and Mairwen Dunn had reserved a few choice words for their son over it as well. But the heart wanted what the heart wanted, and in his efforts to do the right thing for the woman who held his heart, heâd hurt someone else more than he knew.
"When Liam turned me down, Tulori Leufroy swept in, like a pelican bird looking for an easy meal," Jocelynn continued. "I was so embarrassed at being rejected that I took his hand and danced with him, but... I wish I never had."