"Then what is it?"
The question hung between them, sharp-edged and dangerous. Sebastian's jaw tightened, and for a moment, Harriet thought he might refuse to answer.
Then he spoke, and his voice was rough in a way she had never heard before.
"It's the only thing I can give you," he said. "The only way I can help without asking for something you're not willing to offer. You've made your feelings about me abundantly clear, Harriet. You've spent seven years treating me as an enemy, and even now, when we've moved past the worst of it, you still hold me at arm's length." He took a breath. "I'm not asking for your love because I know I won't get it. I'm offering matrimony because it's the one thing I can do, the one concrete way I can ensure your family's safety without demanding anything you don't want to give."
Harriet felt something twist in her chest. "Sebastian…"
"Don't." He held up a hand. "Don't offer me false comfort. I'm not looking for reassurance. I'm simply telling you the truth, since you asked for it. I have... feelings... where you're concerned. I've had them for a long time. But I've accepted that they won't be returned, and I've made my peace with it." His smile was bitter, self-mocking. "Consider the proposal a gift from a friend who wants nothing in return. That's all it is."
He has feelings for me.
The words echoed in Harriet's mind, rearranging everything she thought she knew. Sebastian Vane…cold, sardonic, impossible Sebastian, had just admitted to having feelings for her. Had just confessed that he had carried those feelings for years, expecting nothing, hoping for nothing.
And he was offering to wed her anyway, knowing she didn't love him, because he wanted to help.
It was the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to her. And the most heartbreaking.
"You're a fool," she heard herself say.
Sebastian blinked. "I beg your pardon?"
"You're an idiot." Harriet felt a strange laugh bubbling up in her chest half hysteria, half something else. "You've been carrying a torch for me for years, and you never said anything?You just... suffered in silence? Like some character in a terrible novel?"
"I fail to see how this is relevant to…"
"It's relevant because you're proposing a matrimony of convenience based on the assumption that I could never care for you. And you've never once stopped to consider that you might be wrong."
Sebastian went very still. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying…" Harriet stopped, suddenly uncertain. What was she saying? That she had feelings for him too? That somewhere in the past few weeks, her hatred had transformed into something else entirely?
No. She wasn't ready to say that. Wasn't ready to admit it, even to herself.
But she could admit something smaller. Something true.
"I'm saying that I don't hate you anymore," she said quietly. "I haven't for a while. And if I'm going to wed anyone to save my family, I'd rather it be someone I don't hate."
It was not a declaration of love. It was barely even a compliment. But something in Sebastian's expression shifted, a light kindling in his grey eyes, quickly suppressed.
"That's... good to know," he said carefully.
"So I accept."
"You accept?"
"Your proposal. I accept it." Harriet squared her shoulders, trying to project a confidence she didn't feel. "We'll wed as soon as it can be arranged. You'll settle the debts, and my mother will have the peace she needs to recover. Those are the terms."
"Those are the terms," Sebastian repeated slowly. "And in exchange?"
"In exchange, you get a wife." Harriet shrugged, aiming for nonchalance and probably missing by a mile. "Whether that's a benefit or a burden, I suppose we'll find out."
Sebastian stared at her for a long moment. Then, unexpectedly, he laughed, a real laugh, surprised and warm and utterly unlike his usual sardonic chuckle.
"You are the most extraordinary woman I have ever met," he said.
"I'm glad someone thinks so."
