“Birchwood…” Phoebe whispered. “And my grandfather?” She shook her head. “Surely, you do not think they were connected somehow.”
“Of course not,” Sebastian replied. “When I first met you, I felt that you looked familiar, but I could not put my finger on where I had seen that ash-blonde hair before. I have traveled a great deal in my lifetime and met more people than I could ever possibly remember with clarity.”
“Okay…” Phoebe said slowly. “You are human. You are bound to forget some faces.”
Sebastian flashed her a brief smile, then tapped a finger to his temples. “I told you once and I meant it; I rarely forget anything. But in this case, I could not reconcile how I knew you and those related to you. It was not until one of my staff members researched your background that I remembered what I knew of the Earl of Tripleton.”
“My grandfather, you mean?”
“Yes. He showed me great kindness once upon a time, and now I would like to honor his memory by making things right with you.”
“Tell me,” she demanded. Well aware she was perhaps stepping out of line, even if they had dropped titles or gotten comfortable with one another, but she needed to know. “Tell me how you met him.When? Tell me the circumstances. Please, Sebastian. I have little of my grandfather other than my own memories and this silver pendant.”
She cut herself off, as she reached for the talisman once more. He watched, as he often had, but said nothing.
“That story is for another day. I promise you that when the time is right, I shall tell you all about the time I met the Earl of Tripleton.”
After a moment, Phoebe nodded. She wanted answers, of course, but she knew how difficult it was to share her stories before she was ready to part with them.
“All right. I will grant you some time, but I shall not wait forever.”
Sebastian chuckled lightly. “Very well, my lady. We will continue this conversation further at a later date, but now, I believe the hour is growing late. You must decide what to make of my previous offer.”
Phoebe lifted her gaze to his properly, finding those green eyes blazing a deep jade color in the scant garden lighting. Baubles were lit throughout the greenery, so she could see him plenty, but it was not enough. Still, she gazed at him, as he did her.
Deep within her, Phoebe’s heart fluttered. It picked up a rhythm she had come to ignore when it came to Sebastian, but now she listened. Heavens, she listened so heavily, and she fell into it, just as she had the night of his ball in the secret townhouse when he had posed as Lord Spencer and hidden behind the mask of a serpent.
For once, she was offered a choice. A choice she had not been given in years, not since…
Well, Phoebe could not quite remember. Her mother had asked her what she wished for regarding her debut dress, but that was the last choice she could recall making.
When else had she been given autonomy? She had adored her grandfather, but even living with him hadn’t been her choice, and then there had been Nantwich.
“What you offered me…” she murmured. “The help…the assistance. Are you really giving me a choice, or are you making a demand?”
“It is always a choice,” he promised. “Whenever it comes to us, Phoebe, I will forever allow you to make your own choices.”
There was so much genuine solemnity in his voice that tears sprung to Phoebe’s eyes once more.
She sighed, slumping back against the pillar. “Then, yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes,” she all but hissed. “Yes! I accept your offer of kindness.”
Sebastian’s grin twitched up into that beautiful smirk that she had grown to know, and her heart only fluttered faster.
With an exaggerated flourish, he bowed dramatically, even though he had no cause to bow to her. “Then you ought to return to the ballroom. If we are to find you a suitor… a proper one who will make your wildest dreams come true, then we should?—”
“Do not speak to me of other suitors,” she blurted. “I do not care to hear that sort of talk.”
“All, right, then.” His forehead scrunched as a confused look crossed his face.
Phoebe took a deep breath, then stepped toward him, closing the distance. She felt a surge of energy rush through her blood and even though her thoughts screamed at her to slow down, to consider what she was doing, her heart pound rhythmically in her chest, propelling her forward.
Sebastian’s hand reached for hers, as if, on a dance floor, he would ask her to stand with him and be his partner.
Their fingers brushed, and a shot ofsomethingwent through her, something heated and pleasant, something that she wanted to chase.
