Chapter 23

CHAPTER 23

M arianne sat at the breakfast table, a plate set before her, and stared into the distance, not seeing any of it. Her mind was too distracted, as it had been for over a week, with thoughts and memories.

"Ah, good morning, Marianne," her aunt said as she shuffled into the room and made herself a plate.

"Good morning, Aunt Beulah," she replied with as large a smile as she could manage. "That yellow is very nice on you."

"Thank you, my dear," her aunt said, and took a seat beside Marianne. She settled a napkin into her lap. "You don't look to have reviewed the invitations we've received since your absence in the country."

She motioned to the tray beside Marianne's right hand, which was, indeed, brimming with invitations to balls and teas. Such a strange thing, really. At some point in her life, Marianne would have been thrilled at the increased attention, but now she looked at the pile with nothing but dread.

"There was so much excitement at Garringford Corners, I suppose I'm just looking forward to a few days of quiet," she said, hoping it would put her aunt off of any idea of attending parties.

"I understand," Beulah said, patting Marianne's hand. They were quiet a moment as they both sipped their tea, then her aunt said, "But I did see an invitation from Lady Wilmington. She's so very influential and I don't think we've ever been invited by her."

Marianne pursed her lips and looked into her aunt's face, which was bright with the excitement over the important offer. "You would like to go."

Beulah reached over and dug through the tray until she found the correct item and pushed it to Marianne. "I think we should, my dear. You clearly have an increased interest at present, we have twice as many invitations as ever—why not take advantage? Plus, I've always wanted to see the famous Wilmington sconces. They say they are decorated with real gems."

Marianne looked over the invitation. "The ball is tonight."

"It is. So you'd have an entire day to rest if you'd like and then dance the night away. Perhaps your Mr. Lanford will even be there. I assume you'd like to see him after you spent time together at the estate."

Marianne arched a brow at her. "Are you matchmaking, auntie?"

Beulah laughed. "Just encouraging you to take advantage of any option you may find."

"Well, Mr. Lanford is not an option," she said gently. "He's very kind but we do not suit, it seems."

"Oh." Beulah sighed. "That's too bad. But still. The sconces , Marianne!"

She couldn't help but laugh. "I suppose I couldn't turn down an opportunity to see bejeweled sconces, now could I? Are they diamonds or emeralds or…"

"My understanding is that there is a wide variety of gems." Beulah rubbed her hands together. "I shall write the acceptance to Lady Wilmington right after breakfast and I think you should wear that dark blue gown that Hannah altered so prettily for you recently."

Marianne sighed but nodded. "Of course, Aunt Beulah, I'll do just that. Now, why don't you tell me of your visit with Cousin Fiona? I was sad she wasn't still here when I returned."

"Oh, Fiona," Beulah rolled her eyes and leaned forward with the light of gossip brightening her face. "Let me tell you all about Fiona and her misadventures in Bath before her arrival."

Marianne leaned in, too, trying to lose herself in her aunt's tale of their sweet but slightly featherbrained cousin's attempt to buy a hat in Bath, but her heart sank with every thought of going to a ball tonight. Her heart was certainly not in the exercise. And worse, she feared she might see Sebastian there. All the possibilities of what might happen in this first meeting after everything that had transpired between them was terrifying.

But she supposed it had to happen sometime, so if it was tonight at least that would get the awkwardness over faster and she could start moving on with her life. A life that felt a little duller knowing she wouldn't have those wonderful encounters with the man she loved so desperately.

L ord and Lady Wilmington's London ballroom was impressive, even Marianne could admit that as she trudged into the sparkling chamber at her aunt's side that night. Still, as bright and glorious as the room was, with its sparkling chandeliers and finely liveried servants and the famous sconces dazzling with the candlelight behind them, she felt nothing but dread as the servant announced their arrival.

Eyes turned toward them and lingered a moment, then the groups returned to their discussions. Marianne noticed a few gentlemen tracking her as she made her way through the crush, but she made no effort to connect. She didn't want to attract attention tonight. Claudia's dream to Fill My Dance Card was no longer one Marianne wished to share, even if the opportunity was there to finally complete that item.

"I see some friends there," Beulah said.

"Very good," Marianne replied with a brief squeeze to her aunt's hand. "I think I'll just find a place along the wall and gather myself a little."

Beulah nodded and they parted ways. Marianne weaved through the crowd until she reached the wall where she took her old place. She ducked her head so that she would send the message she didn't wish to be bothered and hoped she would fade into the woodwork soon enough.

But just as she was getting comfortable, the footman at the door announced, "The Earl of Ramsbury."

She jerked her head up to watch as Sebastian strode into the ballroom. Her breath caught as she saw him for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. Even from a distance, she was dazzled by him, by how handsome he looked in his formal attire, by how his confidence was clear in every certain step, in every acknowledging bow of his head to friends. He scanned the ballroom, clearly searching for someone. And then his gaze fell on her and she realized it was her he was looking for.

She started to shake as he made his way across the room to her. The attention had to be obvious to those around him, for he entirely ignored everyone else as he made his way to her. Her heart was pounding and she felt out of breath as he stopped before her at last and his blue stare swept over her from head to toe like a caress.

"Marianne," he said.

She tried to recall how to formulate words as she gave a small curtsey. "Sebastian," she whispered back, for she could get no more strength into her voice.

He smiled at her. "I so hoped you would be here tonight. Will you dance with me?"

He held out a hand and she stared at it. The last time she'd touched that hand, it had been smoothing over her naked flesh, arousing and pleasing her in ways she feared she'd never fully feel again except in her most wicked dreams.

"At some point you need to say yes or no, Marianne," he said gently.

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, I was distracted. Yes, I'll dance with you."

He let out what sounded to be a sigh of relief and watched closely as she took his hand. There was a jolt of awareness that moved through her when they touched. It hadn't been so very long since it had last happened, but it felt like a lifetime and she longed to feel his arms come around her in more intimate ways than the country dance they were about to begin would allow.

They took their places in the line of dancers and he smiled at her from across the aisle between them. He looked entirely untroubled, as if the distance between them hadn't been a bother at all. But of course it likely hadn't. He hadn't seen her as anything more than a lover. A person to pass the time with. And yet her heart ached as she looked at him, drank in all the lines of him.

Their first turn down the line came a few moments later and he reached out to take her hands as they did their first skipping steps together.

"I've worried about you incessantly," he said now that they could quietly speak. "And how you fared after my departure to London."

She glanced up at him briefly as he gently turned her and then continued down the line. "And I worried about you. But I assure you that you needn't be concerned. I was well and no one found out about…about everything except for Finn."

They were forced to part then as they took their spot to watch the other couples. Only Sebastian wasn't doing that. He continued to stare at her, his expression more troubled than before. She shifted beneath the focused regard and when it became their turn to meet in the middle of the aisle again, she said, "I appreciate your kindness in asking me to dance, but I understand if you want nothing to do with me after Finn kicked you out of the party."

His brow knitted and his hand was warm on her back as he spun her gently. "He had every right. I behaved badly."

They were parted again and she frowned. There was something like remorse in his tone and she wondered how he felt about everything…about her…truly. They would have one more turn down the line before the end of the song and when it came after what seemed like an eternity, she said, "Does that mean you regret everything that transpired?"

He slightly stumbled in his steps before he said, "No, not at all."

He turned her and they reached the end of the line where the couples all bowed to each other as the music ended. He took her hand and guided her away from the dancefloor, but he didn't part from her, nor release her. "If I were to meet you at my carriage in a few moments, would you go somewhere with me?"

She caught her breath. He was so entirely focused on her and he looked so…earnest. Had she ever seen Sebastian seem so earnest before? Perhaps about cakes, but never a person. Never her. It was intoxicating.

"Where? When?" she whispered.

"Now. Please?" He squeezed her hand gently and she bent her head. What he was asking was entirely inappropriate and could lead to even more problems for them both. Finn had clearly forgiven her transgression and hadn't called Sebastian out, but that didn't mean he would allow them to flout his rules in front of the world.

And yet, in spite of all that, she found herself nodding. "Yes. I'll meet you at your carriage."

"Good. I'll depart now with some excuse. You find your aunt and say you are not well and having a ride home with a friend so she may stay."

"I'm sure she'll believe that, if only because she wants to soak in all of Lady Wilmington's ostentatious wealth."

"Oh Lord, did you see her ridiculous sconces?"

Marianne couldn't stifle a laugh. "They were everything my aunt could have hoped for when she waxed poetic about them. Bejeweled, you know."

"I'll tell you a secret," Sebastian said, leaning closer so that his warm breath tickled her ear and made her body ache with wanting him so. "They're nothing but glass, not a real gem in the lot."

"I knew it!" she said with a giggle, and for a moment everything felt right as she stared up into his handsome face and they laughed together.

His smile fell and he cleared his throat. "I'll meet you with the carriage shortly."

With that he released her and disappeared back into the growing crowd. She shook her head, for she knew she was doing something that could cause trouble. She ought to try to move forward from her affair with Sebastian, because she knew it had no good end. But he looked at her and all she felt was love, an emotion that kept her from being prudent. If she could have one more night with him, whatever that meant, then she would take it.

Consequences be damned.

S ebastian could hardly breathe when Marianne appeared at the carriage door less than half an hour after they parted. He opened it and helped her in. What he wanted to do was tug her across the gap between them and kiss her until she moaned his name.

But instead he kept his hands clenched in his lap. If this all worked out, he would have plenty of time to do exactly what his body ached to do. Right now he had to focus on the plan. On the risk.

"Did you have any trouble?" he asked.

She shook her head. "My aunt was having too good a time to even consider departing early. I think she was even dancing."

"Good for Aunt Beulah," Sebastian said with a laugh. "I've always liked her."

"She likes you," Marianne said.

"You think she still would if she knew I utterly ruined her lovely niece?"

She swallowed and he tracked the way her throat moved, marked the flutter of her pulse there. "Perhaps my aunt has deeper waters than anyone knows. Perhaps she would whisper to me about her own illicit affairs of her youth."

"That would be something remarkable," he said softly, and finally reached out to take her hand. She was still wearing gloves and he frowned because he wanted to feel her skin against his. Her cheeks flamed and she tugged her hand away.

His heart sank. Perhaps she was finished with him. Perhaps the humiliation of being caught by her brother had ended any attraction she had toward him and?—

His thoughts faded for she met his eyes and unbuttoned her glove slowly. She tugged the silk away and then placed her hand back into his own, which was bare after he'd removed his own gloves the moment he'd entered the carriage.

Her breath hissed out when their skin touched. He realized it met with his own ragged breath.

"I missed touching you," he whispered in the quiet of the carriage.

She nodded. "I missed it too."

They stared at each other, the tension thickening in the air. Then she dropped her gaze. "Where are you taking me?"

He pushed thoughts of touching her away once again and cleared his throat. Here came the moment. The moment when he would reveal what he knew. Where he would take the first risk in a future he was beginning to want to build with a desperation that overpowered him.

How had he not known he loved her before? How had it not been so clear?

"I'm taking you to a party."

She wrinkled her brow. "What? We were just at a party."

"Yes, but this one you weren't invited to."

Her brow wrinkled and confusion lined her face, but then a glimmer of understanding replaced it.

"That was what was on Claudia's list, wasn't it?" he said softly. "To attend a party to which you weren't invited? And unless you crossed it off in the time we were parted, I think it's something you still must attend to. I'd like to help, if you'd allow me."