Harriet's stomach turned. "You're suggesting I sell myself to some... some tradesman?"
"I'm suggesting you consider all your options." Sebastian's voice was gentle but firm. "I don't like it any more than you do. But if the alternative is losing everything, is it not worth considering?"
"Is this your way of trying to make your own offer look more appealing? Present me with worse alternatives until I come running back to you?"
The words were out before she could stop them, sharper than she had intended. Sebastian flinched and something in his expression made her immediately regret her accusation.
"No," he said quietly. "It is not."
"Sebastian, I…"
"I have already told you that I will not be party to any arrangement that treats you as a commodity. That includes using manipulation to change your mind." He rose from the bench, his movements stiff. "I should not have raised the subject. Forgive me."
"Wait." Harriet stood as well, reaching out to catch his arm before she could think better of it. "I shouldn't have said that. I know you're trying to help. I'm just…"
"Overwhelmed. Frightened. Angry at a situation you didn't create and can't control." Sebastian looked down at her hand on his arm, but he didn't pull away. "I understand."
"Do you?"
"Better than you might think."
They stood there for a moment, frozen in a tableau that Harriet couldn't quite interpret. Her hand was still on his arm and she could feel the warmth of him through the fabric of his coat, the tension in his muscles. He was looking at her with an expression she had never seen before, something complicated and intense and utterly unreadable.
She should let go. She knew she should let go. But her body seemed to have other ideas, her fingers curling slightly into the fabric of his sleeve as though anchoring herself.
"Lady Harriet." Sebastian's voice was rough. "I think perhaps…"
"There you are!" The cheerful voice shattered the moment like glass. They sprang apart as Lady Fordshire appeared at the entrance to the wild garden, leaning on Mrs. Briggs' arm but looking considerably more animated than she had that morning."I've been looking everywhere. Mr. Thornton tells me there have been developments."
"Mama, should you be out of bed?"
"Probably not, but I was going mad with boredom." Lady Fordshire's sharp eyes moved between Harriet and Sebastian, missing nothing. "Am I interrupting something?"
"No," Harriet said quickly. Too quickly, perhaps. "Lord Vane was just... we were discussing the situation."
"Were you indeed? How fortunate that I've arrived, then. I believe I have some thoughts on the matter myself." Lady Fordshire smiled, but there was steel beneath the sweetness. "Shall we go inside? I've asked Cook to prepare tea."
It was not a request. Harriet exchanged a glance with Sebastian, brief but charged with everything that had been interrupted before following her mother back toward the house.
***
Tea was served in the drawing room, a space that held too many memories for Harriet's comfort. This was where she had read her poetry, all those years ago. Where Sebastian had laughed and she had decided to dislike him. The ghosts of their younger selves seemed to hover in the corners, watching with knowing eyes.
Lady Fordshire presided over the tea service with the gracious authority she had never lost, despite everything. She poured, she distributed cups, and she offered sandwiches and cakes with the practiced ease of a woman who had been entertaining guests since before Harriet was born.
"Now then," she said, once everyone was settled. "Mr. Thornton has given me the full accounting. I understand the situation is rather dire."
"Rather dire is one way of putting it," Harriet muttered.
"Yes, well. I have always been a devotee of understatement." Lady Fordshire sipped her tea, her eyes moving between Harriet and Sebastian with an assessing quality that made Harriet distinctly nervous. "I also understand that Lord Vane has generously offered to forgive his portion of the debt, and that I was foolish enough to refuse."
"It wasn't foolish, Mama. It was principled."
"Principles are a luxury the wealthy can afford. The rest of us must be more pragmatic." Lady Fordshire set down her cup with a decisive click. "Lord Vane, I owe you an apology. I should not have rejected your offer so hastily. Pride is a poor substitute for a roof over one's head."
Sebastian shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Lady Fordshire, there is no need…"
"There is every need. You tried to help us, and I threw your generosity back in your face. That was wrong of me, and I am sorry."
