Her cheeks darkened further. “Good morning.”
“You look lovely.”
She worried her hands in front of her. “I kept stealing glances at myself while Hannah was readying me and expected to look different…after.”
“You do look different,” he said as he moved to the sideboard. “May I get you tea?”
“No, thank you.” She tilted her head. “How do I look different?”
He turned and leaned on the edge of the wooden table, allowing himself to drink in the look of her at his leisure. “You glow.”
“Funny, that’s what Hannah said, as well.” She covered her now pink cheeks with both hands and he smiled despite his tangled thoughts and feelings about everything that had transpired in the last twenty-four hours.
“Well, I swear the reason why will remain a secret between us,” he said. “On the subject of secrets, it seems Mr. Lanford will also keep his. He has no intention of speaking to anyone about your misadventures in the hell last night.”
“Good.” He could see her relax with that statement. “Very good. There’s no reason for what happened to become common knowledge. It wouldn’t reflect well on any party.”
“No,” he agreed, and stepped toward her. How he wanted to take her hand as Lanford had. Only if he did, he feared he would duck his head and kiss her. And then he’d want to do more than kiss her. Right here in the damned breakfast room. He cleared his throat.
“Were you looking for me for some other reason?” he asked.
She nodded and her expression changed, became more guarded. He found he didn’t like even that small wall coming down between them, despite it being for the best. “Yes. Er, Hannah said you were trying to find me last night.”
He swallowed. He’d all but forgotten that he had encountered Marianne’s maid in the hall. Of course she would report back his actions to her. Ones he had lied about the previous night because he didn’t want her to know he’d found her list.
“I was,” he said carefully. “After the party broke up, I wanted to talk to you about Lanford.”
“About Lanford?” she asked, her brow wrinkling. “Why would you wish to speak to me about him?”
“He’s interested in you,” he said, trying to keep his tone as mild as possible. “I guessed it yesterday—he confirmed it during our conversation this morning.”
She sucked in a breath and her spine straightened. What felt like a dozen emotions passed over her countenance in that moment: surprise and disbelief, confusion and dismay. But two stood out the most to him. She appeared angry and she appeared interested.
“I thought you were only going to make sure that Mr. Lanford didn’t discuss last night’s unfortunate situation, not break bread with him and talk about something so private.”
“His interest in you isprivate, is it?”
She shrugged. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Considering what you and I did last night?” he asked.
Her eyes widened. “One has nothing to do with the other. How did that subject come up? Please tell me you weren’t trying to barter away your pathetic friend to some other man, out of some fear I’ll ask you for more than you’ve given.”
“Of course not,” he said, pushing off the sideboard and crossing toward her. “That wasn’t it at all. But I can’t believe you aren’t dismissing his interest out of hand.Charles Lanford?”
She pursed her lips. “Should I dismiss it because I am so beneath him or he beneath me?”
Sebastian shook his head. This was coming out all wrong and he hated it. Hated that she was now staring at him with arms folded like a shield. Hated that she hadn’t laughed off the attentions of some other man, even if Sebastian had done nothing to earn that. Hated that he could feel her anger directed at him with the same intensity with which she had bathed him in her passion the night before.
“You are certainly not beneath him,” he said.
“Some would beg to differ. I am a spinster many seasons on the shelf. Yes, I have money and connection, but that’s tempted no one in all the years I’ve been out. Do I need to remind you of my disastrous debut?”
“No.”
She shook her head. “No, let me. Because you think you understand but you don’t. My mother’s death kept me from coming out for half a season, but that’s not why I was shunned. She had a breakdown before her death.”
“I know that, Marianne,” he said, stepping toward her, hand outreached so that he could comfort her.
