Sebastian leaned in slowly, giving her time to pull away if she wanted. His lips brushed hers…gentle, almost tentative, nothing like the passionate embraces she had read about in novels. It was over almost before it began.
But something sparked between them in that brief moment of contact. Something electric and unexpected and terrifying.
And then everyone was applauding, and Sebastian was tucking her hand into his arm, and they were walking back down the aisle as husband and wife.
She was now the wife of Sebastian Vane.
The thought echoed in her mind throughout the wedding breakfast, through the endless toasts and congratulations and well-wishes. She smiled, she nodded, and she said all the right things. But inside, she was reeling.
What had she done?
***
They departed for Sebastian's estate in the late afternoon.
The carriage was comfortable, well-sprung, nothing like the hired vehicles Harriet had been forced to use over the past weeks. She sat across from Sebastian, her husband, she reminded herself, her husband and tried to ignore the nervous flutter in her stomach.
"You're very quiet," Sebastian observed.
"I'm tired. It's been a long day."
"It has." He was watching her with that careful expression she was beginning to recognise the one that suggested he wanted to say something but wasn't sure if he should. "Harriet, about tonight…"
"Don't." The word came out sharper than she intended. "I mean, can we not discuss it? Not yet? I need time to…" She broke off, gesturing vaguely.
"Of course." Sebastian's voice was gentle. "There's no pressure, Harriet. I meant what I said about separate lives, if that's what you want. I won't force anything."
"I know you won't." That was the problem, wasn't it? He was being so considerate, so respectful, so bloody noble about everything. It would be easier if he were demanding, if he gave her something to push against. "I just need time to adjust."
"Take all the time you need."
They lapsed into silence. Harriet stared out the window, watching the countryside roll past, and tried to sort through the tangled mess of her emotions.
She was a wife…a wife to a man .To a man who had given her his heart her and didn't expect her to return the sentiment. To a man who had offered her everything and asked for nothing in return.
It should have felt like victory. So why did it feel like failure?
Because you're being a coward, whispered a voice in her mind. Because you're hiding behind walls instead of admitting what you really feel.
And what did she really feel?
The answer was there, hovering at the edge of her consciousness. She had been avoiding it for days, weeks, maybe longer. But it wouldn't stay buried forever.
She felt something for Sebastian. Something real and terrifying and new. Something that might, if she let it, become love.
The realisation hit her like a physical blow. She loved him. Or she was starting to. Or she could, if she allowed herself.
But she wasn't ready to admit it. Wasn't ready to be that vulnerable, that exposed. Not when she still wasn't sure if his feelings were real, or just a noble fantasy he had constructed to justify his sacrifice.
So she kept her silence, and stared out the window, and let the miles pass in quiet contemplation of everything she wasn't brave enough to say.
***
Thornwood Park was beautiful.
Sebastian's estate spread across rolling hills of green, punctuated by ancient oaks and carefully tended gardens. The house itself was impressive without being ostentatious, a graceful stone structure that spoke of old money and older traditions.
"It's lovely," Harriet said, as the carriage rolled up the drive.
