Engaged. Engaged to Miss Phoebe D'Ysquith.

Sibella had returned from Highhurst castle heartbroken, devastated. Even the shock of the sudden death of Lord Adalbert paled in comparison. Her heart had shattered during that toast, she had felt it in her chest. And then that horrid fight with Monty. She could not remember the last time they had argued like that. A petty quarrel from time to time, but nothing like that.

She had lost him, and it was all her fault. She had not treated him as well as she should have, she had not trusted him, she had not loved him correctly. Instead, she had taken Lionel when the chance arose. Because, in truth, she had been frightened. Frightened of how deep her feelings were for Monty. There had been other men in her life, or course, but she had not cared for them as she had for him. No one else had touched her body or her soul like he had. She had always been so scared. The bold, headstrong, beautiful, confident young woman she displayed to the world was a facade. Behind it, she was deeply insecure and so very afraid. And though she would never show it, she loved Monty Navarro with all of the pieces of her broken heart.

She stepped into the bedroom she shared with Lionel, finding that her husband was not yet home. She could guess where he was. In some third-rate pub with his compatriots in Newmarket, stinking drunk, leering at the whores and the barmaids as they passed. Sitting on the edge of the bed in darkness, she stared blankly at the rug.

And suddenly, she was furious.

How long had he been lying to her? If he truly loved her, he never would have become engaged to another woman. Why did he not tell her directly that she was not what he wanted? Miss Phoebe D'Ysquith was petite, brunette, clad in pale blue, sweet-tempered, chipper, gentle. Everything that Sibella was not. She broke down in tears. Hot, angry tears, spilling over her lashes and falling into her lap. She tore the tiara from her hair and cast it away from her, across the room. It crashed into the opposite wall and the gems set in it broke into a thousand pieces. As she stared at shards of black and red, flecks of colour against the rug, she saw a mirror image of her chest, and the cavity of space that before had held her heart.

"Was I just another notch in your bedpost to you?" she screamed, her voice choked with tears. collapsing back onto the bed, she wept bitterly. She did not remember falling asleep, only the tears.