Page 67 of The Lady Was Lying
And her heart.
Chapter Fourteen
The small bench hidden amongst the roses at the back of the garden had seen its share of Belinda’s angst. She’d retreated to its shelter frequently, choosing to wallow in the peaceful silence of the outdoors as she attempted to untangle her emotions rather than the oppressive quiet of her bedchamber.
It wasn’t visible from the house. Or from the terrace. If anyone in her family wanted to find her, they had to go searching. The only person who had ever been brave enough was Sebastian, so it wasn’t much of a surprise when he slid onto the bench next to her and stretched his legs out in front of him.
Another restless night hadn’t brought clarity.
Only shame.
She loathed the way she’d treated James and the way she’d reverted to old habits.
“Not quite as idyllic before the roses bloom,” Sebastian remarked after several minutes. As the weather had begun to warm, the garden had perked up, but it was nowhere close to its glory, and it wouldn’t be for several more weeks.
“The barrenness suits me,” she replied, unable to hide her dissatisfaction.
“Does it?”
“Today it does.” And probably tomorrow too.
Uncertainty had clung to her like a second skin for days. She’d always assumed that she’d know what to do if she kissed a man and liked it, but now that it had happened, she had completely bungled it and had no idea how to recover. Stuck in a never-ending cycle of disbelief and awe, she couldn’t seem to figure out what to do next, and therefore she had done nothing other than ignore her family, society, and James.
Sebastian didn’t reply immediately, and the air was so still that the only sound she could hear was the quiet rasp of his breath.
“I’ve been thinking about Mother,” he finally said.
Their mother had been by the day before, but Belinda had avoided her the same way she was avoiding everyone else.
“Me too,” Belinda admitted, even though she didn’t imagine their thoughts had been similar. He would never wonder if his life would be easier if he were more like their mother rather than less.
“Mother has always driven me crazy,” he said. “It got worse after Father died, and I’m sorry to say that I didn’t consider the cost of my absence when I chose to avoid her. My frustration made me blind to a lot of things. About myself and our family.” The red stain on his cheeks suggested he was uncomfortable. “Emmeline was my first.” He cleared his throat. “My only. Too scared to end up like our parents, I never even allowed myself to consider a physical relationship before I married Em.”
Forcing herself to chuckle, she responded, “One of the many ways we are different.”
“My path has not been the same as yours, but I’m starting to wonder if we are more alike than not. I had never felt passion when I married. I wasn’t sure I wanted to or was even capable of it. When it did happen, I was overwhelmed at first. Confused, too.”
She didn’t pretend to misunderstand the comparison he was making. “What makes you assume I feel passion with James?”
His mouth quirked. “James?”
“It is his name.”
“I’ve never heard you call him James though,” he murmured, running his hand through his hair. “In the past when I’ve caught you with a man, you’ve been…defiant and…I don’t know…almost sad afterward. But with James, everything is different. Your reactions. Your expressions. Your body language. Even now, you’re contemplative rather than distressed.”
“I’m plenty distressed. I treated him the same way I treated all the others.” She rubbed her finger along the bumpy edge of the bench and admitted softly, “I liked kissing him.”
Sebastian made a choking sound, but his voice was steady when he replied, “I could tell.”
Focusing on where her finger pressed against the bench made it easier to admit, “I’m not sure what liking it means.”
“What would you like it to mean?”
She swallowed and whispered, “That I’m not broken.”
“Belinda.” A comforting hand settled on her shoulder, and even though she didn’t turn toward him, she leaned into it. “If I could go back, I would undo my part in making you feel as if there is something wrong with you.”
“It isn’t your fault,” she replied gently.
