"Good work," she said. "That was quite amusing. You're getting into the spirit of things now."
More silence. It made her skin itch.
"What are you thinking?" she asked. "I dislike it when people are quiet. I cannot see them, you see, so it is quite rude when they do not let me know what they are thinking."
"I am thinking that I am actually smiling. Also, that you are quite a strange girl."
"Is that an insult, sir?" she asked with a teasing smile. "For I assure you, you are surrounded by my knights. I would hate to see them have to defend my honor. They worship me as the Lady of the Breadcrumbs, you see. They might peck you to death. In the least, they'll ruin your boots."
"I'm fairly certain that's already happened. I think you rather fortunate not to be able to see where we happen to be standing."
There was a distinct odor that one couldn't deny. "Well. Now you've made me worry about where to put my feet."
"Where do you want to go?" he asked, sounding suddenly closer.
She jumped. "You are very quiet, sir. And to the folly. I like to sit in the sunshine—well, what there is of it—and soak up the heat. Summer is my favorite season."
He cleared his throat. "Would you— Would you mind?"
"Would I mind what?"
He tugged at the edge of her basket, encouraging her to take a step forward. Cleo lost the breadcrumbs, grabbing hold of the basket handle with both hands. The ducks erupted in a flurry of battle as Sebastian steered her to safety.
"No, I don't mind," she admitted. It was a little bit of a whisper, if she were being honest.
"I shouldn't have said what I said earlier."
"Which part?" Her heart started to beat just a little faster.
"That I didn't wish to marry you."
There wasn't much to say to that, but she tried. "Oh."
"There could be worse things—"
"I bet you charm all of the ladies with that tongue."
Another thoughtful silence. "That wasn't really what I meant to say either."
"You mean to say that you didn't particularly intend to marry, and you're not very happy about the situation. But having met me, you think you're quite a lucky fellow now and you can barely contain yourself, and would like to ravish me, right here. Of course, that wouldn't be very gentlemanly, so you are restraining yourself."
"Something like that." There was that hint of warmth again, as if he were smiling. She ached to see it. His voice softened. "Do you ever feel as though you're not in control of your life?"
"All of the time. And why do you make such serious turns in conversation? I was actually attempting to see if I could pry a laugh out of you. I think I am this close to it." She held up her thumb and forefinger an inch apart.
"I think you could make me laugh." Sebastian sighed, and took two steps up into the folly.
Cleo followed him, feeling the cool shade plunge over her. She moved to her favorite spot, a sunny little space where she could sit on the stone rail. Tilting her head back, she let the sunlight drench her. Its warmth was delicious, and apart from Duck Waterloo, the afternoon was peaceful. "Do you know, I never understood the interest in men like Rochester or Heathcliff."
Sebastian leaned against the folly rail at her side, his weight shifting it. "You're trying to form some sort of correlation between them and me? Sorry, no mad wives in my attic. I don't own an attic."
"Actually, I was almost thinking that I understand it now. Brooding men are rather interesting." She turned her face. He was very close to her.
So close that she could touch him if she wanted to...
A breathless feeling caught hold of her. Did she dare? She had been unusually bold today, but this was taking a rather large step over the line drawn in the sand between them.
And if you don't take that step? Her life stretched out before her, full of its usual monotony. Cleo was so weary of being trapped in her glass tower, as if coming into contact with the rest of the world would destroy her. She was not some brittle, precious object. She was a young woman, one of flesh and blood, who yearned to be touched, to explore beyond these walls, to learn what the world out there held. She wanted to be kissed. Just once.
