She couldn’trespond. She stared at him, her heart racing, her visionblurring.
His browcreased. “Seraphina?”
“Lord—” She swallowed, wet her lips. “LordStephen.”
“Areyou well?”
“Iam—” She wasn’t. She wasn’t well. She was— “Have you justarrived?”
“Ihave. I apologise I did not arrive as we agreed. I was delayed.Unavoidably.”
Shenodded.
His frowndeepened. “Sera?”
She made anoise. It might have been an assent.
Still withfurrowed brow, he touched her cheek. His fingers came backwet.
She was crying?She didn’t cry. She was Seraphina Waller-Mitchell. She made otherscry.
“Sera, what is wrong?”
“Youshouldn’t be touching me. It is inappropriate.”
“There is no one to see.”
She glancedabout them. They were in a cool, dark room. How had that happened?She shook her head. She couldn’t remember.
“Sera.” His hand cupped her cheek. He was warm. So warm. “Whatis wrong?”
She could saycruel things. Cutting things. She could make the concern in hiseyes disappear, could make it so he lost all expression and staredat her with none at all, could make it so his pain would make hersdisappear.
Instead, shethrew herself into him.
His arms camearound her hesitantly and she burrowed into him, her hands digginginto his back as she pushed her cheek into his chest, wanting hiswarmth, his comfort. His arms tightened around her, and she felthis lips rub against her forehead, his voice soothing nonsense, andshe shook and shook.
Eventually, theshaking stopped. Gentle, soothing hands stroked her back and,closing her eyes, she let herself breathe. “How did we get inhere?”
“Ifollowed you. Do you not remember?”
She shook herhead, her cheek rubbing against the fabric of hisjacket.
“Doyou wish to return to the ballroom?”
“Notyet.” She took a breath. “Will you stay?”
Chin resting onher head, he nodded. “Are you now well?”
She didn’t wantto answer. If she answered, she would have to let himgo.
“Sera?” His thumb lifted her chin. Dark brown eyes met hers.“Are you now well?”
Reluctantly, shenodded.
He nodded oncein return, sharply. Then he pulled her tighter.
He wasn’t goingto let go. A lump rose in her throat, and she felt like cryingagain.
