FRANCESCA WAS BEYOND shock. Could it truly be over? Had he really meant his cruel words? Hadn’t Bragg warned her what she was in for if she tried to go forward with Hart—if she dared to love him? Oh, God, her heart was breaking apart! When he had broken their engagement a few weeks ago, it had been entirely different. He had been motivated by the desire to protect her from the scandal of Daisy’s murder. He had put her welfare above his love for her. Somehow, their love had emerged even stronger. His feelings had never been in doubt. But now, he seemed to be completely indifferent to her. As if he had cut her out of his heart—and his life—in one fell, effortless swoop. “Miss Cahill? Let me help you to a chair.” She realized that she had somehow wandered into the front hall and that she was still crying. Alfred faced her, his dark gaze filled with concern. She struggled for composure, no easy task. If Hart did not love her—if their relationship had only been based on infatuation and lust—then it was over and there was nothing she could do about it.
