Sebastian stayed stubbornly silent.
"I promise I will stay on my side of the bed. I won't bite. Unless you snore. Do you snore?"
"Not that I'm aware of." He heaved himself to his feet. "Do you honestly think you're fooling me?"
"No, not at all." Sebastian shifted, so she added quietly, "Do you honestly think you're fooling me?"
This earned her a long minute of silence. She counted, letting her heart beat out the seconds.
"Very well then. We wouldn't want my mother to think there was anything unusual between us." A glass clinked against the dresser beside the bed. Then he began to undo his shirt.
The pop of each button made her chest tighten with nerves. She didn't know why. Cleo crossed to the bed, feeling somewhat flustered. It was one thing to think of wifely duties, quite another to listen to the stealthy glide of linen and cotton as her husband undressed himself. Her imagination was a vivid thing, after all, and she had seen enough in her visions to have some idea of what husbands did to their wives. She'd always thought the idea a somewhat gruesome one. It had been like watching a duel—the heavy thrust and pull of flesh, the subjugation of the female, the grimace of emotion on their faces.
Her cheeks were burning. She'd always thought she would force herself to endure such a thing, if she ever married, but she'd never thought she'd feel like this: all nerves, all breathy anticipation, her body almost leaping out of her skin.
And, if she were honest, there was a lush heaviness between her thighs that made her feel rather uncertain.
"Ah," Sebastian murmured with a hint of heat to his voice. Some manner of clothing hit the floor, making her throat tighten. "Now I realize what will finally subdue my wife. You're very quiet, my dear."
"I don't like that word," Cleo whispered with a blush.
She could hear him thinking his words through. "Subdue?" The word sounded somewhat muffled, as if he dragged something over his head. Then he moved to his belt.
Cleo swallowed. Hard. Her nightgown felt like a thin barrier. Even now her nipples strained the fabric.
"I don't like that word very much either." He sighed, and then his trousers hit the floor. More material rustled. His nightshirt, perhaps. The bed dipped as he sat on the edge of it. Silence brewed again between them.
"I'm not going to touch you, Cleo." It was a hushed confession, as if he felt her nerves.
"It would be all right, if you wished to." She thought he'd be gentle with her.
"Perhaps I do not wish to?" And then he dragged the covers over himself, leaving her feeling very much alone again.
Cleo lay down, dragging the covers over herself. Perhaps I do not wish to. Her mind could conjure a thousand reasons why he might not want her. Moving slowly, she swallowed the lump in her throat. That was enough of that. She was not going to give into any of those horrid thoughts. She'd had enough of them when her father couldn't be bothered dining with her, or gave her but a brusque kiss on the forehead as he came and went, always on some business that was more important than she.
It felt strange to have another person in the bed with her, especially one so much heavier. The mattress dipped, and she was fighting not to roll into him. That would probably send him straight out of bed. Crossing some lines required a careful military campaign, not a full-on assault, and after what he'd said, she wasn't certain she wanted to wage such a campaign anymore. All of the day's hopes were dying a small death in the middle of her chest.
"That wasn't a very nice thing to say," Cleo whispered.
Sebastian rolled over, his breath whispering against her face. "I—"
"But then, I think that's exactly how you want me to feel. After all, I'm very used to not being wanted."
Sebastian sucked in a sharp breath.
Cleo rolled away, curling her hands into the blankets, her abdomen locking tight with a great deal of suppressed emotion. None of this was going the way she'd thought it would. Her eyes pricked with tears. "Do you know, I was so happy this morning? I thought my life was going to change. I don't expect you to love me. I don't expect you to even wish to be around me all the time, but please, do not be cruel. I know I am just an insignificant blind girl who you never wished to marry, but I didn't particularly want to marry you either. You were nice to me the other day, but I just wanted to escape. The worst thing you could ever do to me would be to lock me away here and not give a damn. So I won't hope for love, I won't, but if you could just care, just a little, that would be enough for me."
Pressing her blindfolded face into the pillow, she breathed in the hot air of her own breath in an attempt to suppress the boiling emotion within her. What a fool she'd been, thinking this but a game, and now she was trapped by her own cleverness, for her mattress truly was a sopping mess, and her husband didn't want her in his bed.
Something brushed against her hair. She usually braided it, but she'd left it out, hoping he might think it pretty. Cleo stilled, her breath catching, as she lay there in agony, letting him stroke her soft curls.
The whole feeling of the encounter changed. Her tears dried up, her heart becoming a hollow thump in her ears, but he said nothing. Or perhaps what he meant to say was lost in this somewhat gentle touch, which seemed to only emphasize the distance between them.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I've lived so long in cruelty that I forget the damage careless words can wreak." He breathed out a helpless, saddened laugh. "Or perhaps I never expected such a barb to so easily wound you. Perhaps I'm too used to dealing with those who do not own a heart, and then here you are, wearing yours on your sleeve." His fingertips rippled down the lawn nightgown that covered her spine. Then they disappeared, yet she felt as if regret flavored the air between them.
"I cannot touch you, Cleo, for a thousand reasons. Least of all is your father and my mother. The irony of this situation is that in trying to protect you from them, I have brought you into the realm of a far more dangerous predator."
Trying to protect you... Her heart began to race. She was so confused. One moment she didn't seem to know him at all, and the next he became her Sebastian again. "Who?"
