Page 22 of The Courtship Trap
The Egyptian Room greeted them with rows of ancient statues, stone tablets adorned with symbols, and intricately carved amulets. The air was tinged with dust and age. Harriet stopped before the Rosetta Stone, her gloved fingers hovering just above the glass case. Sebastian himself was awestruck to behold it once more; arguably the most famous artifact in the entire building, it had drawn crowds for two decades.
“The key to an entire civilization.” Her voice softened. “One stone, unlocking so many secrets.”
She inspected it closely, and Sebastian was reminded of the discernment of her painted room. Harriet had always been a connoisseur of art, it being one of the many interests they had in common. If only he had such a key to decipher this woman of secrets who had entangled his thoughts these many years.
Sebastian stepped beside her. “Do you believe some mysteries should remain unsolved?”
Harriet turned to him, lips curving into a knowing smile. “No. Not anymore. Understanding the truth, even when uncomfortable, has value.”
Their gazes held.
Was she speaking of more than hieroglyphs?
Sebastian felt the familiar tug of longing. As he had feared, proximity to Harriet could lead to fresh wounds if he did not practice caution. He might have the experience of more years, but the truth was that Harriet seemed more compelling than ever.
“Perhaps,” he murmured, “we are not always prepared for what we discover.”
The Mummies Room was quieter. Heavy sarcophagi lay open, revealing linen-wrapped remains. The scent of resins and faded incense lingered. Harriet approached a glass case where a mummy’s delicate fingers peeked from its wrappings. She leaned closer. Sebastian stepped beside her, barely inches away. Their shoulders brushed.
“Do you suppose they feared being forgotten?” Harriet asked.
“Perhaps,” he said, his voice low. “But they ensured they would be remembered. Even in death.”
Their closeness did not escape him. Propriety be damned, this moment felt intimate in a way no ballroom ever had. One thing was certain—Harriet need never fear being forgotten. Not by him. The scent of her fragranced hair spread upon his sheets haunted him to this day. Those stolen moments on that fateful Valentine’s Day had been the sweetest he had ever grasped. But followed by the worst, he reminded himself sternly, when she had failed to arrive the next morning at their designated point.
It took resolve to remind himself because it was difficult to think of anything but how heavenly the scent of her hair was even now, as he caught just a trace of it in the muted air when she turned away to smile at their chaperon.
Next, they visited the Greek and Roman collections where the Townley Venus stood tall in the Sculpture Room, marble pale and gleaming beneath the filtered daylight. Harriet once again took the lead, approaching slowly. Her gown hugged thesweet curves of her womanly form as she strolled ahead of him, stopping to tilt her head back and revealing the creamy column of her slender neck.
“Venus, the goddess of love. Yet, her face is inscrutable.”
Sebastian stood beside her, his focus on the statue. “Perhaps she trusts few with her secrets.”
Harriet turned to him, contemplating him for several seconds before she finally responded. “Do you believe trust is given or earned?”
Sebastian’s gaze did not waver. “I believe it is broken far too easily.”
The unspoken words—the past betrayal—hung between them. Harriet looked away first, and Sebastian was unsure if he should be relieved or ashamed of the bitter reference to the day she had left him waiting like a fool. It was disorienting to have his thoughts swivel back and forth between what could have been, what could be, and the proven hazards of allowing his guard to drop.
The sound of their footfalls echoed through mostly empty halls as they reached the fragments of the Elgin Marbles. Grand and stark, its horsemen, gods, and mortals were frozen in stone.
Sebastian gestured toward a frieze of horsemen. “The power captured here—it is almost alive.”
Harriet stood beside him, her gloved hand brushing the display’s edge. “The riders trust their horses completely. A partnership without words.”
Sebastian looked at her. “Do you still believe such bonds are possible?”
Her lashes fluttered. “I want to.”
The simplicity of her words shook him more than any argument. It made him think again of her cryptic remarks. What changes had she made these past few months? Was she being honest when she said she no longer entertained men, or hadshe said what she thought he wanted to hear? The problem in dealing with Harriet, even in their youth, had been the Hargreaves’s malleable sense of truth that made it difficult to assess any member of the illustrious but warped family. It was one of the reasons he could not convince Philip to wield his power as duke so that Sebastian might have courted her.
And, for a second, Sebastian froze—much as the subjects depicted in the Marbles—when he was struck with a revelation. He was glad he had left British high society behind!
In Florence, he had found an entirely new life, a fulfilling one in the pursuit of art. If Philip had helped him formally court Harriet all those years ago, he would never have left on his Grand Tour. Never have met Lorenzo or Marco and Angelo Scott or any of his friends back in Italy. Nor built his thriving business with Lorenzo.
It was regrettable that Harriet had not the courage to accompany him, but perhaps his continued anger at his older brother was something to let go. Perhaps his grievance with Harriet was theirs alone, and it was time to stop blaming the duke for his unwillingness to assist. Sebastian exhaled, releasing much of his pent-up resentments. Marco had been correct—facing the past would allow him to build a better future.
As he came back to the present, he found Harriet with an eyebrow arched as if she was awaiting a reply. Running a hand through his mane of hair, Sebastian smiled politely, still shaken by the understanding that he had to leave Britain when he had. Had to explore the exotic locations that had beckoned. Had to arrive in Italy. It had all been a vital part of his journey.
