“You are hilarious today,” Percy guffawed.
“Quite comical,” Verity added.
Sebastian’s only reply was to give an aggrieved roll of his eyes.
When his companions quieted and started whispering amongst themselves, Sebastian checked his pocket watch, knowing they still had another hour until take-off.
Looking around, he noted that tents were set up around the field. Chalkboard advertisements announced sweet stalls, dessert stands, and even a fortune teller who would likely be somebody dressed up to look the part, eagerly pocketing coins while they spun some non-existing story about a person’s life.
Still, a part of him was slightly intrigued.
“Oh, look!” Verity said happily, pointing across the field to where two ladies were walking arm-in-arm, their heads toward one another, laughing.
Sebastian’s heart stuttered as he looked at the pale, lilac dress that Lady Phoebe wore, the paisley pattern catching the sunlight.
There was a small spencer jacket that hugged her upper arms with short sleeves, cinching to her waist as well. Next to her, Lady Genevieve wore an amber-colored dress, but his eyes drifted back to Lady Phoebe quickly.
Her hair was pulled back into elaborate braids that twisted up into one coil of ash-blonde hair. Again, there was something about the curls and how because her hair was shorter than how most ladies wore it, many strands escaped their pins. He rather liked it that way; the severe styles ladies often sported seemed too much, too pristine, and too perfect.
As Lady Phoebe and Lady Genevieve made their way in his direction, he recognized that neither of them had noticed him yet.
It had been so long… too long…since he had left Lady Phoebe standing in the garden. His lips stung at the memory of the kiss he ended far too soon.
If he had been given the option, Sebastian would have turned tail and stalked to the other side of the fair. Now that he knew Lady Phoebe had attended this event, he would have given himselfat least a quarter of an hour to compose his thoughts before seeking her out. But he was not to be granted such concessions.
Verity was already waving her gloved hand high in the air, flagging down her friends and beckoning them to hurry. Lady Phoebe’s eyes looked around their group before stopping on Sebastian. He swore a blush came over her pale cheeks.
He smiled at her, the woman who had kept him awake at night, the woman who had distracted him from important work, and the woman who had haunted every thought.
“Lady Phoebe.” He bowed as she curtsied, her head dipping close to her decolletage, and he tried not to follow the line of sight too far down.
He was aware of the group having gone silent and watchful around them.
“Your Grace,” she answered softly. “I trust you are well?”
I am more well for finally seeing you again, rather than just being tormented by my thoughts.
“I am,” he said formally. “And yourself?”
“I am well enough, thank you. This is quite the affair, is it not?”
“Indeed. When the balloon launches, we all will be treated to a remarkable sight.”
He felt as though he didn’t know how to speak to her, not with so many eyes on them. His gaze flicked up to the refreshment tent, and he smiled to himself.
Around them, their friends began talking once more, and he met Lady Phoebe’s gaze, nodding to the tent that was teeming with sweets and cups of punch.
He brushed by her, his mouth dipping low but discreetly. “My sweet tooth is begging for relief. Would you care to accompany me so that I might indulge myself?”
Even though Sebastian had spoken in a quiet tone, meant for only Lady Phoebe’s ears, it was Lady Genevieve who answered his entreaty. “Oh, yes! Phoebe loves sweets. She was just telling me this morning that it had been an age since she had a luscious piece of chocolate gateau.”
“Were you having that conversation earlier?” Sebastian could not help but ask.
“No,” Lady Phoebe answered immediately. A split second later, Lady Genevieve responded in the affirmative.
Sebastian caught it when the cousins shared a long look. They seemed to be communicating only by eyeing one another and tipping their heads from one side to the other.
But then, Lady Genevieve broke the moment by urging her cousin. “Do go onto the refreshment tent with His Grace, Phoebe. I should very much like you to scout out the sweets and report back later.”
