“I shall make you a smaller rod,” he murmured, amusement softening his tone.
Sarah chortled. “My papa taught Maryann how to fish.”
Sebastian’s expression gentled. “Then he must have been a very good papa indeed.”
Maryann’s heart squeezed. The sight of him so at ease, smiling with such boyish warmth, was entirely too much. He did not belong to her, yet something in her chest yearned foolishly for what it might be like if he did.
When Sarah’s line finally tugged, Sebastian let out an exclamation of triumph. Together they reeled in a small, silver-scaled fish that flopped in the air before landing in the bucket.
Sarah squealed in delight. “I caught one! I really caught one!”
“You did indeed,” he said, laughing. “A fine catch, Miss Sarah. You’ve bested half the gentlemen in the county on your first attempt.”
She giggled and clapped her hands, her joy infectious.
Maryann could hardly breathe. The soft lilt of laughter, the sunlight glinting on the rippling water, the gentle creak of the oars, it all felt too perfect, too fleeting. A fragile dream borrowed from a life that could never be hers.
She watched him beside Sarah, patient and smiling, the sunlight burnishing his hair to a golden hue. Every kind word, every unguarded laugh, chipped away at the careful distance she wanted to exist between them.
And somewhere deep within her chest, something unfurled—warm and perilous.
He did not belong in her world. A man of his consequence, of his title, could never truly fit into hers. She was a guest in his life, a passing interlude. Yet as she looked at him now, with the water glimmering around them like molten silver, her heart refused to listen to reason.
Sebastian looked up at her then, and the laughter in his eyes softened into something that made her stomach flutter.
“You’ve been teaching her well,” he said quietly.
“She learns quickly,” Maryann replied, her voice low. “She always has.”
“And she adores you,” he murmured, his voice low and rough with something that wasn’t quite amusement.
Maryann lowered her gaze to the rippling water. “She is my heart.”
He went still. When she glanced up, there was a question in his eyes—quiet but unmistakable. In that instant, she knew what he wondered, and the realization startled her.
He thought Sarah might be her child.
What astonished her more was that, even with that suspicion in his heart, he had never treated her as a woman of fallen virtue. There was no judgment in his gaze, no disdain—only warmth and unguarded kindness.
Something inside her trembled. If Sarah hadn’t been sitting a few feet away, if propriety hadn’t held her in its iron grip, Maryann thought she might have leaned forward, rested her head against his chest, cupped his jaw, and kissed him.
He must have seen the want in her gaze, for he drew in a sharp breath, his green eyes darkening with that same hunger she’d glimpsed before.
Maryann’s pulse fluttered wildly. She had known—oh, she had known—that he wanted her. But every time she saw the proof of it, it left her breathless. There was something forbidden and beautiful in that awareness, something that made her feel alive in a way she hadn’t in years.
It wasn’t surprise that shook her now, but the power of wanting him back. Of knowing he felt it too, and that they were both fighting the same battle in silence, pretending the air between them wasn’t heavy with the promise of what could never be.
The gentle lap of water against the boat was the only sound between them. Maryann turned her gaze away, struggling to steady her breath and gather her composure. When at last she dared to look up, he was still watching her with that same quiet intensity. It unsettled her, for he should not look at her like that—no man should. And yet, what truly frightened her was the way her body betrayed her resolve, for if he continued to look at her in that way, she feared she might never again remember how tobreathe properly—or how to cling to virtue and propriety until marriage.
Sarah broke the moment with a delighted squeal as she examined her catch. “Maryann, look! Do you think cook will make it for supper?”
Maryann smiled, grateful for the interruption. “I am certain she will, my darling.”
Sebastian’s mouth curved in amusement. “Then we shall dine on Miss Sarah’s prize this evening. An excellent choice for a day’s reward.”
“We cannot all eatonefish,” Sarah giggled.
He looked at her again, his eyes glinting with warmth. “How right you are, Miss Sarah. Miss Winton, will you take your own turn at the line?”
