Page 33 of Scandalous Desires on a Summer Morning
“I do not think I am foolish enough to,” he said dryly. “Somehow I thought you would hold similar sentiments.”
She laughed, the sound rich and warm in the evening air. “I am an incurable romantic, my lord. I adore the gothic romances in your library.”
“Good God,” he mock-shuddered. “Never say I own such sentimental drivel.”
She laughed harder, her eyes bright. “You do indeed. I foundThe Mysteries of Udolphotucked behind a rather dusty volume on agriculture.”
He groaned. “That book is a menace to sensible minds everywhere.”
Her smile softened, her laughter subsiding into something quiet and tender.
“You have a beautiful laugh, Maryann.”
A soft sound left her, and he stilled, meeting her gaze across the fading light. The warmth between them deepened. Slowly, he smiled. One corner of his mouth tilted upward.
You, he silently thought,have the dangerous talent of making me forget why I ever vowed to be sensible.
CHAPTER 13
The moonlight painted his chamber in muted silver. From his window, Sebastian watched the figure stretched across a blanket on the lawn below—Maryann, gazing up at the stars. The hour was late, nearing ten, and yet she lingered beneath the balmy summer night as though the world itself were holding its breath for her.
A muscle worked in his jaw as he looked at her. It had been a week since that afternoon on the lake, and every day since had tested his restraint. Every look, every brush of her hand, every sound of her laughter was a slow undoing. Desire had become his constant companion, thrumming through his veins with maddening persistence.
He spent more time with her than sense permitted. A few days past, he had found her and Sarah at an impromptu picnic and had been drawn to them like a moth to flame. Two mornings later, he discovered that Maryann could not ride and had insisted on teaching her. Astride the saddle, pressed close to him, her laughter had rung through the fields like music, and her delighted flush had nearly driven him to ruin. He could stillfeel the warmth of her against his chest, the faint tremor of her breath as he guided her hands on the reins.
Sebastian swore softly under his breath. This was madness—beautiful, dangerous madness. Every passing hour deepened his hunger for her, until even the air between them seemed charged with forbidden promise.
No more.
He had made his decision that morning. It was the only sensible course. Maryann would be sent to one of his estates in Kent—a small, well-kept property he had restored last year. She would be provided with every comfort, given charge of the house there, and far removed from the temptation that plagued him here. He would ensure her future was secure. It was the most honorable thing to do… though honor felt like a bitter word on his tongue tonight.
He watched her sit up, her hair tumbling free from its pins, gleaming like dark silk in the moonlight. Her face was lifted toward the heavens, her expression soft and far away, as though she were speaking to the stars themselves. He wondered—foolishly—what she was wishing for. Did she dream of her sisters? Of safety? Of freedom? Or something altogether more dangerous?
Sebastian dragged a hand through his hair, forcing himself to turn from the window.
Enough.
If he remained there another moment, he would stride across the lawns, haul her into his arms, and damn the consequences. And that, he thought grimly, would not do at all.
He would set her free before he lost himself entirely.
And yet… the thought of the manor without her laughter echoing through its halls hollowed something inside him.
He looked back at her through the glass. Her gown, a pale muslin, shimmered faintly in the moonlight, and her hair fell like a dark ribbon over her shoulders.
“Christ,” he muttered under his breath, dragging a hand through his hair.
He would tell her tomorrow. End this torment before it grows into something neither of them can control.
Why not now?That way, she would not spend another night worrying about her future.
Sebastian hesitated only a moment before striding from his room. He fetched two blankets from the linen closet, soft and thick enough to fend off the night chill, then stopped by the library for a decanter of sherry and two glasses. If reason had any hold left on him, it was slipping fast. He told himself it was courtesy—she should not be left to freeze on the grass—but deep down, he knew the truth. He wanted to be near her.
Once outside, he made his way over the lawns, the grass damp beneath his boots, the air alive with the quiet song of crickets. Maryann looked up when he approached, surprise flickering across her face before softening into a smile.
“I thought you might be cold,” he said, offering one of the blankets.
Her smile deepened, and she drew it around her shoulders. “Thank you, Sebastian.”
