Page 34 of Passion Painted in a Lady's Heart
“I’ve been such a fool,” he said to himself, waiting for an opportune moment to reenter the house across the terrace.
The courting couples were dispersing with furtive whispers and promises of future liaisons, and Sebastian hurried up the terrace steps, concealing himself in the shadows, before slipping back into the ballroom.
The last waltz had come to an end, and he spied Rosalind being chastised by her mother, as the Duke of Northridge stood at her side, shaking his head. It was a sorry scene, though Sebastian could not help but feel a little guilty for causing Rosalind to get into trouble, even as he did not regret the kiss itself. But he had been reckless with the dance, the terrace, and the kiss.
“And what can I promise her? Nothing, that’s what. I can hardly sweep her away and marry her, can I?” he said to himself, watching as Rosalind was led away on the arm of the duke.
At the door of the ballroom, she glanced back, and Sebastian caught her eye, but only for a moment. But in that gaze was found everything they had shared, and a lump rose in Sebastian’s throat, as he realized there could be no going back. He was falling in love with her. Her beauty, her wit, her charm. She was perfect.
“What a fool I’ve been,” he told himself, watching as Rosalind was led away.
“Oh, there you are, Sebastian. I’ve been looking for you. I think it’s time to go. I’m getting tired,” a voice behind him said, and Sebastian turned to find his stepmother and another woman, whom he recognized as Lady Helena Bonham, standing behind him.
“Yes. I suppose so,” Sebastian replied.
“I haven’t seen you all evening, Sebastian. Where have you been?” Lady Southbourne asked him, and Sebastian sighed.
“You know I don’t really care for these occasions,” he replied, glancing again towards the ballroom door, and wondering what Rosalind was thinking.
Had she been surprised at his kissing her? It had not been planned, and he suddenly wondered whether he had overstepped the mark. A kiss meant something to him, and he hoped it had to her, too, even as nothing could surely come of it. The matter would be forgotten, or rather, the opportunity would pass.
Sebastian had no doubt as to the Duke of Northridge’s intentions. He would want to marry before the season was out, and that would be that. With her vows taken, Rosalind would be gone. Another young woman lost to the vagaries of an older man. It was a tragedy.
“Victoria tells me you’re to have a music room at Southbourne House,” Lady Helena said, as they left the ballroom a few moments later.
“Oh yes, that’s right,” Sebastian replied.
He had given the matter little thought, though he had not forgotten it, as perhaps he might have feared.
“I think it’s a wonderful idea. We’ll have some delightful soirees,” Lady Helena said.
Sebastian nodded. He was not interested in music rooms or soirees. His stepmother could do as she wished. His mind was preoccupied with Rosalind, and as they stepped out onto the forecourt, where their host, Lady Clarissa, was wishing her guests goodbye, Sebastian looked around hopefully for one last glimpse of the woman who had so captured his heart.
“Victoria, how good of you to come, and my Lord, we’ve been honored by your presence,” Lady Clarissa gushed.
Sebastian nodded, thanking his host for a pleasant evening, even as he still hoped for another sight of Rosalind. But she was gone, and the only familiar face remaining was that of John, who had just bid Elizabeth and her parents goodbye.
“I’m going to call on her tomorrow,” John said, catching Sebastian as he finished thanking Lady Clarissa for her hospitality.
His stepmother and Lady Helena were still discussing the plans for the music room, and Sebastian and John stepped aside, each with a story to tell.
“You’re certain she’s the one, then?” Sebastian said, and John nodded.
“Absolutely. The more I know of her, the more I desire her. Truly. I’ve never felt this way before,” he said, and Sebastian smiled.
“I kissed Rosalind,” he whispered, for he knew he had to tell someone, even as his friend’s eyes grew wide.
“But Sebastian, she’s the Duke of Northridge’s betrothed,” he exclaimed.
Sebastian rolled his eyes.
“Don’t judge me, John. You’ve kissed enough betrothed women in your time, I’m sure,” he said, feeling angry his friend should appear so moralizing as to his behavior.
But John shook his head.
“I’m not judging you, Sebastian. I’m glad. She deserves someone far better than him. But it’s dangerous, and you could ruin her. That’s not what you want, is it?” he said, and Sebastian shook his head.
“No, of course I don’t. But she’s so extraordinary. I couldn’t help myself. When I’m with her, it’s as though I don’t fear the madness. I don’t even think about it. It’s like a painting,” he said, and John raised his eyebrows.
