He may want to seduce her, and may even want to bed her, but didn’t want anyone to know because then he would be forced to wed her.
Frances blew out a sigh as her anger began to rise.
She would not fall so easily into his trap again.
She strode across her chamber and pulled a nightshift from her dresser drawers and tossed it on the bed before she started to remove her gown.
It was one matter that he had ended their friendship and broken her heart, but she would not let him take the one thing any innocent woman had of value before he left her again.
That didn’t mean she still didn’t want him. In fact, Seth was the only person she had ever wanted to experience passion with before.
Frances dropped her dress over the back of a chair and pulled her nightshift over her head.
Though, why should she hold so tight to her virginity? It wasn’t as if she would ever marry so who would even know if her innocence had been lost?
Was there a way that she could enjoy intimacy with Seth without losing her heart or becoming too attached? Not that she would let him seduce her into his bed, but it was a decision that she may make for herself. It may be the only opportunity to experience passion, desire and all that occurred between lovers.
Frances pulled back the covers on her bed and climbed in.
Allowing Seth to seduce her was something worth considering, but she would need to go about her intentions very carefully, especially since she still meant to get her revenge.
A small smile pulled at her lips as she snuggled further into her bed. Frances had not considered seduction as part of her revenge, but why not? First, she’d win his heart, then enjoy intimacy, destroy him as he had her, and then she would walk away.
Did she dare?
Chapter Fourteen
Seth wanted Frances!
There was no question as to his desire.
But, what about permanently?
He never thought he would marry. In fact, it was a decision he’d made at the age of fifteen because he could not bear the idea of enduring the pain of losing a loved one again because he had barely recovered after Amelia’s death. She had been his twin, and closer to him than any other sibling. She knew his thoughts before they were spoken, and anticipated how he would behave in any situation. He knew her just as well. She kept his secrets and he kept hers.
When Amelia had died, a part of him had too and at fifteen, he surmised that if it hurt so badly to lose a sibling, it must be doubly so if one lost a wife. Of course, he assumed that he would only marry if he was deeply in love. Thus, he knew that it would be impossible to go on if something were to happen and decided that he would never fall in love with anyone.
Seth snorted and took a sip of his brandy. He had been so young and foolish when he had made that declaration and believed that he had such control.
He had fallen in love with Frances and it had scared him. Seth had tried to lie to himself that it was simply love for his dearest friend and the fact that he also had desired her was because she was beautiful and he was male with a natural inclination to be intimate with desirable women. He had also believed the words he spoke when they parted—that he would always be able to think of her as happy, beautiful and alive.
He ached recalling that last day together at the cottage, when he had rejected her because he had been afraid.
In retrospect, he now realized that building the reputation that he had may have been intentional without him even realizing he was doing so. Not that he set out to become that, but he certainly hadn’t tried to change the minds of anyone when the gossip reached his ears even when he knew that if Frances ever learned that she would be disappointed in him and likely reject him.
Had he been sabotaging what could be without realizing it because he was a bloody coward and too afraid to really love?
When Frances had told him to leave that last day, Seth knew he had hurt her, but she didn’t understand what he feared…Except she had. She had called him a coward, which had been the truth.
He also hadn’t gone straight home. Instead, he found a place where he could be alone and cried for the second time beyond infancy.
There was no shame in tears, Frances had taught him that.
Even now, sitting alone in his library, glass of brandy in his hand, his eyes misted when he recalled the first time he had cried after he lost Amelia.
The day before he had discovered Frances and the cottage and had not been able to resist the urge to return. She was in the back adding more plants to the flowerbed when she asked him to get the rest from the crumbling terrace. The first one he picked up was a small rosebush with pink buds. Pink roses had been Amelia’s favorite flower and without warning, the tears had formed as Seth willed them away.
“It is okay to cry, you know.”
