Page 48
“No, it is not. But when a situation cannot be changed, we are wise to find what happiness we can.”
It was a good bit of advice for Sebastian, who had for so long been fighting against the circumstances he’d been put in.
Shadow nuzzled up against Cordelia’s leg. Without hesitation, she reached down and scratched the little lamb behind the ears, just as one would do with a pet dog. He’d known a great many Society ladies in London and could not imagine a single one of them being anything but horrified at a farm animal wreaking havoc on their clothing or demanding attention.
He was struggling to discover a means of existing in between two worlds, but she was mastering very much the same thing. And she was managing it with far more grace and optimism than he often did. How remarkable she was, and how wrong he had been about her when they’d first met.
Miss Seraphina was being eagerly requested to continue singing with the musicians. She reminded the gathering that she didn’t likely know most of the songs they preferred to sing. They all simply encouraged her to do her best. Some of the heaviness that had marred her expression earlier eased.
“I do hope our parents will allow us to come to future gatherings like this,” Cordelia said. “It has done Seraphina so much good.”
That one simple statement, offered as almost an afterthought, shined an unexpectedly bright light on their situation. She was a daughter of the gentry, while he was, as far as she and her family knew, merely an employee of the local principal landowner. She seemed to like him, though. She’d even offered him a sweet, tender kiss on the cheek. He’d worked very hard not to allow himself to assume there was more to the gesture than she might have intended. But the memory of it was strong and heart-pounding.
She liked him; he was certain of it. Sebastian of the Home Farm had nothing temporal or impressive to offer, and she liked him anyway. But at the same time, it was a barrier to anything beyond that growing between them.
Her parents would disapprove if they knew of his tenderness for her. She might very well be upset once she learned that he was not entirely what he said he was. Ought he try to explain his actual situation? Even if he never did, she would eventually learn the truth, living in the area as she did.
With a muttered excuse even he didn’t truly listen to, he rose from the stool and wandered off past the edge of the gathering. His thoughts spun in dozens of directions. Shadow followed him, of course. But other than his little constant companion, he was alone beneath the branches of an obliging tree.
He liked being Sebastian of the Home Farm when Cordelia was about. He liked discovering things about her and talking with her without having to worry if she was being sincere. But he knew he was not being as honest with her as she was being with him.
“Is something amiss, Sebastian?” She had, it seemed, followed him after all.
He turned toward her, warmed through at her nearness. “Shadow is wandering again.” He nodded to the lamb, sniffing out the best patches of grass in the open field.
“She didn’t start wandering until after you did,” Cordelia pointed out. “I haven’t been able to sort out what in our conversation sent you rushing off.”
“It wasn’t anything you said.”
Her doubtful look couldn’t possibly have been misunderstood.
“I swear to you,” he said. “I just have some thoughts to sort through.”
“They don’t appear to be pleasant thoughts.” The doubt had shifted to something very near to guilt.
“You truly didn’t upset me in any way.”
Cordelia shook her head. “My father walks away in just that manner when I’ve introduced a topic he would rather not discuss.”
Sebastian took her hand in his. “Let me say, then, with every ounce of sincerity, that you did not introduce any untoward topics, I am not at all upset with you, and sometimes your father drives me a little mad.”
Her smile set his mind at ease, but also pushed his pulse to a quick clip. “My parents aggravate me at times as well. You will think me a terrible daughter, no doubt, but I confess I have not been overly sad to have them gone the past little while.”
“Not terrible at all.” He raised her hand to his lips and lightly kissed her fingers.
“Miss Wakefield!” Connall’s voice broke the tenderness of the moment. “Your sister says she will only sing the song if you sing with her.”
“Oh, mercy.” She met Sebastian’s gaze as he released her hand. “It will quickly become clear that only one of the Wakefield sisters has any musical ability.”
“Best of luck to you, then.”
She smiled once more, then made her way back to the gathering.
He was growing ever more fond of Cordelia, and he suspected the feeling was at least a little bit mutual. She didn’t know the entirety of who he was, and that would remain a barrier between them. But Sebastian of the Home Farm didn’t feel like a lie, like a deception. It was who he was, every bit as much as Sebastian, Grandson of the Laird. Perhaps more.
He didn’t know what he was going to do, but he had the unshakable suspicion that, if he didn’t sort out the matter himself, Fate, in all her unfeeling expediency, would do so for him.
