He’d said she was being what she wasn’t. Was he right? She thought about it, thought about all she’d done for Claudia’s list. Often she’d actually feltmorelike herself when she was doing those things. Like she’d found some part of herself that she had buried or lost or forgotten.
Not when she was dancing tonight, perhaps, pursued by a gaggle of popinjays who didn’t really care about knowing her, only taking their turn with someone who was popular for a moment. But when she was sitting in her parlor with Sebastian and giggling with him over naughty words, or swinging her fists in his transformed parlor, she had.
When she’d been kissed by him, she had. It hadn’t felt wrong at all, or performative. It had felt magical, almost like she’d been asleep for all her life and he’d woken her up with just a touch.
She shook her head. It was entirely unfair that something that felt so right could very well ruin everything between them that she so cherished. That he might stay away from her. That he clearly thought he’d done something wrong if his words of apology before he left her alone in the darkness had been any indication. That he’d stop helping her with Claudia’s list, even if he didn’t know he was her secret partner in living her life more fully.
She blinked at sudden tears in her eyes. She’d already lost one friend, and she had few enough of them that she couldn’t bear the idea of losing another.
But how could she stop it? In just two weeks’ time he was supposed to join her brother and her for a week at their estate just outside of London for a small gathering. If she didn’t do something quickly, what had happened between them would ruin that, too. Perhaps he wouldn’t even come at all, and he was the only thing about that gathering that made it even the slightest bit bearable.
“I must talk to him,” she said out loud, getting up from her table and pacing her chamber as she wrung her hands. “I must air this out in a place where we won’t be interrupted and he cannot run away. But where?”
She returned to her table and stared once more at the list in Claudia’s neat, even hand. One of the items stood out, almost glowed at her like a beacon that would somehow be the answer to her prayers.
Sneak Into a Gentleman’s Home.
She caught her breath at the idea. If she did so, if she dared to sneak into his estate, he would have to listen to her, wouldn’t he? She could refuse to leave until he did, if nothing else. They could hash out this madness between them and as a bonus, she could cross another item off her list.
“Thank you, Claudia,” she murmured as she folded the list carefully and returned it to its safe spot in the jewelry box in the corner of her dressing table.
Then she blew out the candle and got into bed. She didn’t think she had any better chance of sleeping than she’d had earlier, but at least she could lie in the softness of her pillows and try to figure out how to break into Sebastian’s lair.
And what she could possibly say to him once she had.
CHAPTER 10
The drink dangling from Sebastian’s fingertips had been the same level for almost an hour, but he felt no drive to sip it. Just as he had felt no drive to fuck when he’d gone in nothing less than desperation to the Donville Masquerade and tried to find a willing lady to drive this haunting need into.
He’d found the willing party. Parties, actually. But he had not followed through, just as he hadn’t the night he’d gone there with Delacourt. And now he was home, his mind swirling once again to the night before at the ball and his kiss on the terrace with Marianne.
He was beginning to accept the fact that he wanted her.Trulywanted her. Thinking of something else didn’t help. Touching himself while he allowed every wicked fantasy didn’t help. Nothing helped.
But he was still at a loss as to what to do about it.
“Sitting in the dark after midnight can’t solve the problem, can it?” he muttered to himself as he slugged back the drink and set the glass on the edge of the desk.
He was about go upstairs to his chamber to continue his restless night and likely erotic dreams there when he heard the rap of something hitting his window.
He turned. Had he imagined the sound? Perhaps it was a bird hitting the glass or a?—
Just then a small stone hit the glass a second time and he wrinkled his brow as he moved to look down. In the dim light he saw someone standing down below in his garden. Not just someone. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he realized it was Marianne.
He squeezed those same eyes shut then looked again, trying to determine if the madness of desire had conjured her like a phantom. But she was still there and she lifted her hand in a half wave to him.
He opened the window and leaned out. “What are you doing here?” he asked in a harsh whisper loud enough to carry to her.
She shrugged and he saw her mouth move but couldn’t understand what she was saying. He held up a hand. “I’ll come down, wait there.”
He pivoted and rushed around to a parlor that led to the terrace and the stairs down to the garden. As he did so, he tried to calm his suddenly throbbing heart. Perhaps this was just another heated dream.
If so, that meant he could indulge in what he wanted all over. And if it was real then perhaps a talk with her and figuring out what the hell she was doing here would allow him to get over this once and for all.
She met him at the bottom of the stairs and her face was flushed.
“What are you doing here?” he asked again.
“May I come in?” she asked.
