She searched his face, but her eyes never lost their vacant stare. With a sigh, she said, “If we must, Matteo. But let us be quick about it. If we are out on the terrace, no one can see our costumes or the lovely manner in which we complement each other. I did not have our seamstress spend such a large amount of time on your stitches for nothing, you know.”

A tendril of doubt began to grow in the back of Matteo’s mind. Could she really care so much about the clothes they wore? He shook that thought away and led her out. In an undertone, he murmured, “I need you, Scarlet. I cannot wait to hold you. Yours is the only balm that will help me now.”

She laughed overly loud. “Oh, Matteo. Our wedding night will be here soon enough. Surely you can be patient for a few more hours with our guests.”

The ladies nearest them gasped in shock, putting hands to their mouths. An older matron ushered her daughter away. A few men smirked at Matteo, some smiling in sympathy.

Matteo burned with mortification. “Scarlet, that is not what I meant at all.”

“Oh, of course not, my dear. Come now, I find I am a bit parched. Let us get our lemonade and be quick about this moment on the terrace, shall we?”

Matteo stopped, turning her to face him. “Are you well?”

She looked away for a moment and then found his eyes, her own flashing. “I am well.” Then she swallowed, and a bit of hurt passed through her eyes. “Quite well. It is all for France, you know.” For a second, he saw a look of regret cross her face, and then she closed off completely.

Stunned, Matteo moved forward mechanically, handing her a lemonade and then escorting her outside. The night air felt cool on his face, and he turned his head to feel it.

“You’ve scratched your jacket.”

Remembering his fall into the hedge, he said, “Yes. I had a bit of a mishap outside. It can be mended, surely.”

“How did you come to be rolling about in the hedges?”

He turned to her. Before she could school her features, he saw suspicion and even jealousy on her face.

He reached for her, pulling her into his embrace. “Scarlet, I have had terrible news. I stumbled outside upon the hearing of it. I long to tell you.”

She stiffened in his arms and stepped back. “News? Oh, dear. I had hoped to keep it from you.”

Had she heard about the DuPonts already? Could she know of his involvement? Deep shame filled him with an irrational desire to hide. His own stupidity, pride, self-righteous blame, had brought an entire family to their deaths.