Known better than to involve me in his bridal gift? Genius. I snorted. He should have realized that much days before! “You do still have your bridal gift, don’t you? It didn’t get lost in all the chaos?”

“I have it.” His tone was perfectly flat.

“Well, good. I’m sure she’ll love it.”

“‘She?’” His laugh sounded pained. “Mia, what are you going on about?”

“Your bride,” I gritted out through my teeth, nails biting into my palms. “Your perfectly appropriate, necromantic—”

“What are you talking about?” he demanded.

“Don’t you dare tease me about this!” I wasn’t too tired for battle after all. Metal rattled in the carriage lamp like a warning. “I mean it, Leander. I’m tired of these games! I can’t pretend to be calm about it any longer.”

“Why would you pretend anything when we’re alone together? When have I ever asked you to do that?”

I let out a half-laugh that sounded like a moan. “You asked me to pretend to be your wife, then announced that you’re marrying someone else! So, forgive me if I need a bit of privacy now while I get over that. I’m not like the Countess or like you, either. Love isn’t a game to me. My heart is broken!”

There. My cheeks were burning and my breath was panting as if my chest had turned into a set of bellows, but the truth was out at last. I couldn’t take it back, and he couldn’t even pretend to misinterpret me any longer.

“Don’t worry,” I added quietly. “It will mend—but I need time alone for that.”

“No.” Suddenly, he was knee to knee with me, his breath ruffling against my hair.

I shifted swiftly to the side, away from him. “I mean it, Leander. If I’m to overcome these feelings—”

“Mia,” said Leander, “look at this.”

Oilskin landed in my lap with a gentle thump. My heart skipped. Was he really going to torture me with the sight of his gift of old bones for another woman?

“You don’t need to explain why I’m not suitable for you,” I said wearily. “I just—”

“Look at it.” He turned on the carriage lamp.

The oilskin sack in my lap was unmistakable and unbearable—but I couldn’t look away from it without meeting his gaze.

Argh. Slowly, reluctantly, I unpicked the knot at the top. Even more slowly, I drew out another shielding layer of oilskin from beneath. Then another and another, in a constantly decreasing pile…

Until a small box lay in my lap at the center of all of it. How tiny was this set of bones, anyway?

“Open it,” said Leander.

I flicked it open, swallowing hard. If he wanted to prove that I couldn’t cope with the gruesome sight of what his real bride would find pleasing…