But he didn’t release her hand as he marched her down a second corridor and into the library that was unoccupied, before closing the door behind them and then taking both her hands in his.
“Venetia! Stop this nonsense!” he begged as he brought her fingers to his lips.
“You know you couldn’t live with yourself if your honor was compromised by your actions, Sebastian!”
“I could...if it meant I had you.” He framed her face with his hands and his voice grew hoarse as he whispered brokenly, “Please, Venetia. Kiss me, and tell me you feel nothing.”
Before she could object, his lips were on hers, his arms cradling her in a warm embrace from which she had no wish to break free.
A flicker of recognition fired in her brain, warning her that this was against her very principles, but her body was awash with the desire to wring from him every last drop of what he could give her in these final precious moments before she did what was right.
Before she made him do what was right.
Before she gave him up—forever.
She felt lit up from within as she clung to him, matching his ardor in a kiss that radiated from the tips of her toes to the top of her head.
“God, I love you, Venetia,” he murmured as he trailed kisses the length of her throat. “I love you so much!”
“Oh Sebastian,” she heard herself whisper brokenly. There had never been anyone else for her. “Oh Sebastian, I wish—”
“See!” he said triumphantly, drawing back just enough to look into her eyes. “You do love me!”
“I never claimed I didn’t but—”
“One can’t deny what’s in one’s heart. Venetia, say you’ll give up this nonsensical idea of yours, and that you’ll marry me.”
For one desperate moment, Venetia nearly said yes. In that moment of simple feeling, her doubts and fears seemed overstated and ridiculous.
But then the door was thrown open and Miss Reeves burst into the room, her face alight as she saw Sebastian, saying, as if she were surprised, “Goodness! I hadn’t expected to see you here!” She glanced at Venetia, before turning back to Sebastian to add, “I have some news! My father will be announcing our betrothal before midnight! Yes, you have every reason to be surprised! I’m surprised!”
She seemed almost giddy with joy as she went toward Sebastian, who, ignoring her, called after Venetia, “Please come back, Venetia! Where are you going?”
Venetia shrugged off his hand, only stopping at the doorway to turn and say in as quelling a tone as she could manage, “I’m going to bed, Sebastian. Clearly, events have overtaken both of us.”
Chapter 16
Fanny wasn’t surprised to see the dark shadows beneath her sister’s eyes when she found Antoinette prostrate on a striped chaise longue in the yellow drawing room the day following the grand Christmas Ball.
“I don’t wonder you’re exhausted, my dear,” she remarked, drawing back the curtains to let in a little more of the weak early afternoon sunshine.
“Please, Fanny; I was trying to sleep!” Antoinette exclaimed, sitting up. “I’ve just farewelled our three most vexing guests who insisted on early departures.
“Afternoon departures, nevertheless, Antoinette. Here! Drink this!” Fanny poured them both a cup of tea from the little tea tray resting on the sideboard and handed one to her sister before taking a seat opposite.
The yellow drawing room generally was filled with guests sitting in clusters of chairs arranged artfully around the cavernous space, but this morning, Fanny saw that only Lady Indigo had managed to be up before noon. She was sitting by the fire, a rug over her knees, while Venetia sat at her side, darning yet another of the old woman’s stockings. For it certainly wasn’t a dainty article belonging to a young person.
She checked herself. Since Venetia was again wearing the drab lace cap she favored, so that she bore no resemblance to the radiant creature who had been transformed by Antoinette’s silver net gown the previous evening, perhaps it was her stocking.
“Wasn’t last night the most marvelous success?” Fanny leaned forward, eager to solicit Antoinette’s opinion. “Goodness, there were so many rapturous compliments about the food and the decorations. That alone should bring the color to your cheeks. Come and be merry with me, Antoinette. You do love a good compliment.”
With a groan, her sister straightened before putting down her teacup with a sigh.
“I do. But I’m too exhausted right now to go into any of it.”
“But Antoinette! We had dancing; we had love affairs that were begun. No doubt a few that were ended too, but we won’t know about those, and it doesn’t matter,” she added as an aside. “And we had two betrothal announcements! Miss Libby Wells and her young man, Mr Clayton. They’ve waited more than five years to get her father’s approval. Why, wasn’t it too marvelous?”
“I don’t know, Fanny.” Antoinette yawned before saying with more energy. “Was it marvelous? Maybe it was for Libby. And maybe it is for Arabella. But since I orchestrated neither betrothal, I don’t know how marvelous it can really be.”
“Well, you can’t pretend to know why it didn’t happen!” Fanny said sharply. Since Antoinette’s scandalous behavior had been even more inappropriate than usual—Fanny had heard the story a little while later—she’d been prepared to be charitable; after all, it had precipitated what Fanny considered the most marvelous betrothal news.
But Antoinette was behaving like a spoilt child. “The reason why it didn’t happen was because of your carryings-on with Senor Boticelli,” Fanny went on, and perhaps too loudly, she realized only afterward. “Really, Antoinette. You can’t have it both ways!”
“Oh, all right then! I don’t approve of Arabella’s betrothal, but you think it will make her happy so...good luck to her.”
Fanny was interrupted from making a rejoinder by what she thought was Venetia wishing to say something; but when she glanced at her, the girl looked away as if she had no wish to be noticed. Which was a pity really, because Venetia had the potential to be quite an engaging beauty, if she only took the trouble.
“Good afternoon, ladies.” It was old Mr Wells, stomping into the room and looking surprisingly benign as he was joined by his daughter and prospective son-in-law. “I had intended staying longer, but Libby is anxious to start making preparations and, since I seem to have become too soft in my old age, I shall indulge her.” He scanned the company, nodding at the other ladies. “Didn’t realize how much easier it was to have a happy daughter. But the jury is deliberating,” he added fiercely, turning to Mr Clayton. “You had better keep my Libby happy, otherwise you’ll wish I hadn’t been so lenient in allowing her heart to rule her head.” He turned, paused, then considered Venetia for a long moment.
When he said nothing, and when Venetia simply bowed her head to concentrate on her darning, which Fanny thought a trifle impolite, Fanny interjected brightly, “Venetia looked very lovely last night. It was kind of you to arrange for a gown she could wear.”
The old man harrumphed, still staring pointedly at Venetia, who refused to meet his look. “A trifle. Not nearly as much as she is owed.” He cleared his throat again. “Good luck to you, Venetia. I’m sorry I won’t see you again. It was a great pleasure to be reunited for this short time and...and I’m sorry, young lady.”