Nor did it get better when he opened the parlor door and found Marianne standing at the fireplace, examining the line of miniatures arranged along the mantelpiece, a small smile on her face. When she turned to look at him, he saw her. Saw her like it was the first time.
She had a softly rounded face with fetching pink in the apples of her cheeks. Her brown eyes didn’t yank a man in from across a room, but they were bright and kind. Her lips were full and a rosy color. And she had such delicate hands, which were currently fluttering at her sides as she drew a sharp breath.
“Sebastian?” she said. “Are you well?”
He jerked from the odd spell that had been woven over him and stepped forward, hand extended to her. “Of course,” he said. “Welcome, my lady. It’s a pleasure to see you, I’m glad you could escape.”
She smiled as she squeezed his hand gently with both of hers, the warmth of her seeping through his gloves. “I wouldn’t have missed it. I was terrified all morning that you would change your mind and send word for me not to come after all.”
He wrinkled his brow. “And why would I do that?”
The flush of her cheeks darkened even more and her gaze flitted away from him. He oddly wanted to bring it back, make her hold his stare indefinitely as she cupped his fingers in her hands. “I’m sure you have far better things to do than to spend time with me.”
He blinked at the statement. In this moment he could think of nothing he’d rather do than exactly that. Not one singular thing.
He cleared his throat. “You’re my friend, Marianne. Any time I spend with you is more than worth the time, I assure you.”
Her smile grew a fraction. “Thank you.”
He pulled from her grip at last. “Er…yes…well, let’s begin, shall we?”
He strode to the parlor door and she followed, falling into pace beside him as they moved down the long hallway toward one of the many other parlors that he had long ago outfitted as a practice space for fencing and boxing.
When he opened the door and motioned her in she did so, He followed her into the room while he tugged his gloves off and pushed them into his pocket. He heard her catch of breath as she looked around. He’d had many mirrors installed around the walls of the room so he could see his form when he worked on either sport and bright light sparkled in from the large windows across the room that looked out over his vast garden. A small boxing ring was roped off in the center of the room.
“Oh!” she gasped. “Is this what these sorts of places look like in the clubs?”
He shrugged. “The rings are bigger and there is more than one in the room, so more men can practice. But yes. It’s something like this.”
She pivoted toward him and delight brightened her face as she clasped her hands together. He found he liked delighting her.
“It really is something,” she breathed. “Though I cannot picture fully what happens here.”
“Then allow me to show you,” he said, and moved toward her. He took her hand and turned it over in his own, noting how her short gloves fastened at her wrist. “Now, if we’re going to do this properly, we would be wearing far fewer clothes.”
Her mouth dropped open slightly. “Oh?” she croaked out and her nervousness was plain.
He smiled as he lifted her gaze to his. “But perhaps we’ll just do this…”
And then he slipped a finger beneath her glove and gently unfastened the button.
Marianne could hardly breathe as she stared at her hand, watching as Sebastian slipped the little pearl button away from the loop of thread which held it in place. He seemed to move shockingly slow as he tugged each finger away and then removed the glove. At some point he had done the same with his own and his rough fingers glided across her skin as he did so.
She lifted her gaze to his and found him watching her closely as he did the same with her opposite glove. He folded them both and placed them into the pocket of his jacket. She swallowed because there seemed to be something so intimate about him taking a piece of her clothing and tucking it away into his pocket like it meant something. Even more intimate was that it was a piece of her clothing that he, himself, had removed.
“Don’t be afraid,” he said softly.
She shook her head. “I’m not afraid,” she whispered in return, but it was a lie. In this moment, she felt afraid, but she didn’t know why. It wasn’t about the boxing, that was for certain, for she knew Sebastian would never harm her.
“You’re trembling,” he said.
“Not because I’m afraid,” she said without thinking.
His pupils dilated and at last he turned away from her. He cleared his throat. “It’s good you’re wearing a short-sleeved gown—it will give you more mobility.”
As he spoke he removed his jacket and carefully folded it over the back of a nearby chair. He unfastened his cufflinks and placed them there as well, and then began to roll up his sleeves.
She stared at he did so, revealing finely defined forearms lightly peppered with dark blonde hair. Good Lord, had she ever seen a man’s forearm before? Were they all so…so attractive? She wanted to reach out and trace the skin there, feel if he was soft or hard, discover the shape of him.
