She didn’t look up and her cheeks were bright with color. “I’m sure you don’t wish to talk about that.”
“I’ve suggested it,” he said. “And I’m happy to clear up any misconceptions you might have.”
Now she did look up, her expression filled with disbelief. “Misconceptions?” she repeated. “Are you saying you haven’t lived your life as a libertine?”
“I have,” he said. “Like many a man of privilege, I’ve often chosen the path of a wastrel. I like pleasure, as I think you know. I’ve sought it out with lovers and mistresses over the years.”
She folded her arms like a shield and he could see that those words hurt her, even if she had already known they were true. Which meant she cared. She cared about him. Loved him, he didn’t know. But he could work with caring.
He stepped toward her. “I’ll tell you this: those assignations were meaningless emotionally. I never let anyone closer than my body. They were transactional exchanges, on both sides. Pleasure for pleasure and nothing more. I enjoyed myself, I did my best to ensure the lady in question did the same. But when we parted ways, I never, not even once, felt a twinge of longing or regret for what I’d walked away from.”
She swallowed. “That sounds very empty.”
“It was, though I wouldn’t have admitted it to myself.” Now he shifted as his fears flooded him. He was about to say things he never believed he’d say. Do something he’d never believed he’d do. And he had no idea how this woman, this remarkable woman, would respond. But he’d do it anyway, because the weight of his heart was greater than the depth of his fear.
“Marianne, the first time I ever felt bereft when I walked away from a woman was when I was asked to leave you behind in Garringford Corners.”
The color left her cheeks at that admission and she stared up at him in what could only be described as confusion as those words sank in. “Wh-what?”
He took her hand. It trembled in his own, or was it his that trembled? He couldn’t tell anymore. Perhaps it didn’t matter.
“Marianne, the last ten days without you have been the worst of my life. All I have thought about, dreamed about, written about is you. All I have wanted in my bed and in my parlors and on my arm, is you. And when you haven’t been there, I realized more and more what I cannot live without isyou.”
She tried to step back and he gently held her, not to force her to agree, but because he needed her to know he meant those words.
“I-I don’t understand,” she breathed, the words almost unrecognizable despite the fact that they were right next to each other.
“Because I haven’t been clear,” he said. “Too many times, to myself and to you. But I want to be perfectly clear now. I don’t want you to misunderstand or be able to question what I meant later when you think about this. I love you, Marianne. I am in love with you.”
He waited for her response, waited for joy or discomfort or anything to cross her face. But she simply stared at him, unblinking and for the first time he wondered if he had read this entire situation the wrong way.
Wondered if he was about to lose not just his friend, but the love of his life.
CHAPTER 25
Marianne’s ears were ringing and her heart was beating so fast and hard that she feared it might burst from her chest. She stared up at Sebastian, trying to decide if she was dreaming or asleep, if she was mad or sane when she heard him say those words.
“I am beginning to think I’ve stricken you mute,” he said after what felt like an eternity passed. He no longer looked so certain as he always did, butworried.
He was worried she didn’t return his feelings.
And that shook her back to reality and she gasped in a deep breath. “Are you saying those things out of pity?”
He drew back. “You think I, the ultimate rake, would tell you I loved you out ofpity? Rather than gnaw off my own arm to avoid ever being trapped by this?”
“I don’t know.”
“If I pitied you, I’d get you a nice cake, Marianne, I wouldn’t declare my heart in the billiards room.” He smiled. “I say I love you because it’s true. I realize you doubt me, perhaps because you’ve been so mistreated over the years. Perhaps because I forced myself to keep you as a friend and nothing more until these feelings became too powerful to ignore. Perhaps because you don’t return those feelings and you’re too kind to outright reject me. But know that when I say I love you, it’s because the sun does not rise for me until I see you. The stars don’t shine. When I am more than a day without being near you, it’s like someone has stolen my joy. And when I do see you, I cannot breathe for it.”
The words were so beautiful, like poetry falling from the lips of a fallen angel. And they wrapped around her heart and suddenly she smiled. She couldn’t stop smiling as she moved even closer.
“You think I don’t return your feelings?” she said, and reached up to touch his cheek. “Sebastian, I think I’ve been in love with you from the very first moment I saw you all those years ago. I have loved you from afar and valued every stolen moment and conversation, guarding them and reviewing them like a miser with a ledger. Once you turned your regard on me, it felt like I was alive for the first time. That had nothing to do with Claudia’s list and everything to do with you. I adore you. I love you.”
His entire face lit up with relief and joy, excitement and a glimpse of a future she never could have imagined in her lonely life. He caught her by the waist and drew her to him, his mouth finding hers with passion, but oh, yes, with love. She lifted to him, her hands gripping at his shoulders, trying to find purchase but instead getting swept away.
He pushed her back toward the billiards table and she hit the edge, her legs parting to allow him a place to step between. Her skirts rustled and she sighed against his mouth as he leaned into her with a hungry moan.
They didn’t have to speak in that heated moment. Her hands found his fall front, his shoved up her skirt, caressing her stocking-clad thighs as he moved her chemise out of the way.
