Page 62 of Drowned in the Pleasure of a Devilish Baron
Harriet cleared her throat. “Actually, sir, I do believe you will want to see this visitor.”
Felix looked up, ready to ask why, but then he heard soft steps, and Sarah appeared at the door.
Chapter Thirty-Three
To see Sarah now, when he had just begun to decide he would have to give her up, was exquisitely painful. Her hair was loose, falling down her back in a mess of chestnut strands, her cheeks bitten pink by the wind, as if she had flown here to see him. She was the most beautiful lady he had ever seen. His breath left him in a rush. He had no words.
Leonard bowed in greeting. “I was actually just leaving,” he said, shooting Felix a sideways look as he went to the door. “I’m sure the two of you have much to discuss.”
Sarah looked at him gratefully as he passed her. At the door, he turned and said to Felix, “I cannot tell you yet what we can do to fix this, but I’m not going to rest until we find a way. Do not think that you are alone in this. You aren’t. Trust me. I know that working together, there is another way,” Leonard repeated once more, looking between the two of them. “All will be well.” And then he left.
“What, what are you doing here?” Felix rasped, finding his voice at last.
A blush flooded her cheeks. “I know it’s terribly improper, but I had to see you,” she said, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. “I was so worried, after today. I could not bear to wait another moment.”
“How did you get here?” He looked out the window, as if the answer would be found there.
She surprised him by grinning wickedly. “I rode. I stole John’s horse and came when no one was looking.” She too glanced quickly out the window. “I do not know how long it will be before they notice I am gone, so I cannot stay long.”
That was precisely the Sarah he knew, the brave girl he had grown up with. He smiled back at her, amazed at her daring. “Why does that not surprise me?”
Her smile faded as he remained back by the fireplace. “Are you upset I have come?” She swallowed, pushing her hair back behind her ears self-consciously. “I have been desperate to see you.”
That word,desperate, brought her note to Juliet back to the forefront of his mind, and his own smile fell away.
“No, I’m glad you’ve come,” he said, gesturing to the couch. “Please sit. There’s something we should talk about.”
Her eyes widened as she sat, and he saw her notice that he took the seat across from her, rather than beside her. He did not trust himself to do this right if he were too close to her.
I simply cannot resist her.
“What is it we should talk about?” she asked, her fingers plucking at her skirt in a way that made him want to wrap her hand in his to ease her nerves. “Because before anything else, I wanted to be sure you were all right.”
Instead, he swallowed hard and steeled himself. It was the right thing, he was sure of it, and it had to be done. “Yes, I am all right. Your brother and I…” he looked away. “We do not see eye to eye. Not about you, not about the way he treats you.” He met her eyes, his heart softening at the worry in them. “I’m ashamed to say we fought about it. But we are both fine, no real harm done.”
“But your land.” She leaned forward. “I saw the smoke, and there’s so much ash across the fields. Was there a fire?”
“There was. We don’t know much yet, but a lot of new plants were destroyed.”
“New plants?” Her brows drew together. “What were you planting?”
“It does not matter now.” He looked away again, incapable of facing the honest love that shone in her eyes. “It was all for naught.”
“Oh, Felix, surely that is not so,” she reached across to take his hand, but he leaned back. Just a bit, but it was enough. She drew back and he saw her blink quickly, and knew she was blinking away tears. “Felix,” she said, her voice petal soft. “Have you not longed to kiss me as I have longed to kiss you? You have controlled my thoughts ever since we first kissed. I can think of nothing but you, want nothing but you. It is a sickness, but the best kind.”
He said nothing, staring out the window, not trusting his voice. Not yet.
Hers took on the raw quality of hurt. “Felix,” she said. “Felix, look at me.”
But he could not. He closed his eyes against the pull of her voice. It was his only choice, to remain strong enough to say what he had to say now. “Sarah, I’m sorry if I’m hurting you. But I have to confess something, and I hope you will forgive me.”
“What could you have to confess?” Fear colored her words, he could hear it as clearly as if she had said it aloud.
He looked at her now, her eyes shining in the firelight, the mess of her hair evidence to what she had gone through today just to sit here with him and have him push her away. There was nothing he could do, but say what he was thinking. “There was a boy,” he began. “He handed me a note as I was leaving your house and asked me to pass it along to Juliet. But this evening, when I pulled it from my pocket, I knew it was your hand that had written it.”
She stiffened.
“I’m sorry, Sarah, but I read it. I know I should not have, and I am truly sorry. I only wanted to see your handwriting, to hear your voice speaking in my head. But it is no excuse.”
