Page 40 of Scandalous Desires on a Summer Morning
Sebastian stared at her, helpless to form a single word that might make her stay. After a pause, he inclined his head slowly.
Without another glance, she turned and hurried up the staircase, her skirts whispering against the steps. He remainedwhere he was, watching her retreat, feeling the hollow ache settle deep inside his chest.
For the first time, the thought struck him with cruel clarity—their fragile, stolen affair might have just come to its inevitable, irrevocable end.
CHAPTER 16
Maryann closed the door behind her and leaned against it, her breath trembling. The quiet of her chamber pressed in, broken only by the faint ticking of the clock on the mantel. She crossed to the vanity and sat, staring at her reflection. Her eyes were red, her cheeks blotched, her lips trembling despite her best effort to remain composed.
She pressed her hands to her face, wiping at the tears that slipped free. Sebastian’s words echoed in her mind—his offer of a dowry, a home, comfort. His mother’s voice followed, sharp and cruel, condemning her as if she were something shameful. That was the moment she understood she would never belong in his world.
Not as a wife. Not as anything more than what she already was—a passing affection that duty and society would soon erase. And yet she loved him. God help her, she loved him desperately. She had known it that night beneath the stars, when she gave him her body and her heart followed helplessly after. The ache in her chest grew unbearable. She wanted to accept his offer, to take the home, the security, the promise of peace. But some small, stubborn part of her refused. She would not live on hischarity, not when what she truly wanted could not be given in coin or property.
Taking a deep breath, she opened the drawer of her small writing desk and withdrew a clean sheet of paper, the quill, and the bottle of ink. Her hands trembled as she dipped the nib, and a tear splashed onto the paper before she could write. She blotted it quickly and began:
Dearest Sebastian,
Thank you for your incredibly kind and generous offer. However, I cannot accept a home and money when you have no obligation to me, as we are not family. I have come to realize that the one thing I would dearly wish for from you is not wealth, nor protection, but your love and admiration. Only those would ever do.
I suspect you too have come to see that our attachment cannot last, that it has no hope of a future. I confess I am afraid to remain, for it will only lead to a heartbreak from which I might never recover. Sarah and I have gone, and we will never forget your kindness, nor your friendship.
Yours,
Maryann
Her tears blurred the words, but she did not stop until it was done. Folding the letter carefully, she sealed it with wax and laidit upon the desk. For a long while she sat there, staring at it, her heart breaking silently within her chest. Then she rose, crossed to Sarah’s bed, and brushed a lock of hair from her sister’s brow.
“We’ll be all right, my darling,” she whispered. “We’ll find a new beginning.”
She straightened, drew a steadying breath, and began to pack.
Sebastian drovethe hammer down with sharp, precise blows, the sound echoing through the half-restored corridor. He had been mending a section of the bannister railing on the third floor, one of the countless small tasks left to bring the manor fully back to its former glory. Nails gleamed in the sunlight streaming through the tall windows, the scent of sawdust thick in the air.
He wiped his brow with the back of his arm, his shirt clinging to his skin, and set the hammer aside. For the hundredth time that morning, his thoughts drifted to her.
Maryann.
She had avoided him all of yesterday after his mother’s visit, and today had been no different. He’d knocked on her chamber door early that morning—no answer. When he’d gone down to breakfast, Maryann’s and Sarah’s absence had struck him harder than he cared to admit.
The quiet felt heavier without her gentle laughter, without the sound of her voice instructing Sarah or humming softly while she organized the household. Even the air seemed emptier. He looked down the winding stairs and sighed, the weight in his chest nearly unbearable. There had been pain in her eyes yesterday—pain that he had caused, though notintentionally. He had wanted to remove it, to make her smile again, but he didn’t know how.
A sound alerted him. One of the footmen was walking up the stairs toward him, holding a folded letter sealed with wax.
“A message for you, my lord,” the man said, bowing slightly.
Sebastian frowned, wiping his hands on a rag before taking it. “From whom?”
“The elder Miss Winton, my lord. She said it was to be delivered this afternoon.”
Alexander frowned. “When did she gave it to you?”
“About six this morning, my lord.”
The footman retreated, and Sebastian turned the letter over in his hand. His stomach tightened at the sight of her delicate handwriting. Breaking the seal, he unfolded the paper and began to read.
With each line, the world around him fell away.
Thank you for your incredibly kind and generous offer…
