Page 33 of The Courtship Trap
He had spent years navigating the cunning twists and turns of art dealings, spotting forgeries at a glance, reading the nuances of deceit in a seller’s tone. Not to mention he had stooped to the ignoble behavior of following her to St. James’s Market. Which meant he knew Harriet was lying.
About what, precisely, he could not yet say.
But it bothered him. Far more than it ought.
Sebastian exhaled through his nose, staring out at the streets of Mayfair as the carriage rocked forward. He had no claim on her whereabouts, nor any right to expect the truth. She was no longer the girl who had once promised him everything, only to leave him waiting.
And yet …
He turned his attention back toward her.
Harriet was sitting beside Lady Wood, her gloved fingers tracing a pattern over the top of her reticule as she stared out the window, her auburn lashes casting delicate shadows on hercheeks. He could not interpret her expression, but her lips—damnable lips, still as lush as he remembered them—curved in a faint smile.
A woman with secrets.
But was she the same woman he had known all those years ago? Or was she someone entirely different now?
Sebastian clenched his jaw. He had vowed to keep his heart guarded this time. He had vowed not to be lured in again. But then she spoke, and the irritation faded—just a little.
“I have neglected my reading these past years,” she murmured, almost as if to herself. “It is time to fill my library again.”
Sebastian arched a brow. “Was it ever empty?”
She tilted her head, giving him a sidelong glance. “Not empty, no. But neglected. A library is a living thing, is it not? It must be tended, refreshed, filled with new voices. Otherwise, it becomes little more than a mausoleum for old words.”
Sebastian smirked. “You always did enjoy dramatic declarations.”
“And you always did enjoy needling me about them,” she shot back, but there was no bite to her words. Only warmth.
He leaned back slightly, tapping a gloved finger against his knee. “What sorts of books do you intend to buy?”
Harriet sighed, her breath fogging lightly against the cool carriage window. “I do not know yet. Writings to stimulate the mind, perhaps.”
“No scandalous novels?” Sebastian teased.
She grinned. “I have read my share, of course. But it would not do for Miss Bélise Coupier to find such stories beside my bed, would it?”
Sebastian blinked, momentarily thrown. “Miss who?”
Lady Wood, who had been quietly reading, glanced up in faint amusement.
Harriet’s eyes glittered with mischief. “My new lady’s maid.”
Sebastian frowned, the name sparking a distant memory, but before he could question her, Harriet waved a hand.
“Never mind that. Back to books—what do you recommend, my lord?”
He studied her for a moment, then decided to let it go. For now.
“Well,” he said at last, settling deeper into his seat. “If you truly wish to exercise your mind, I suppose I should steer you toward histories.”
Harriet made a mocking grimace. “Must I?”
Sebastian chuckled. “If only for balance. What was it you told me once? ‘All knowledge is worth having’?”
Harriet sighed dramatically. “Did I? How insufferable I must have been.”
“I shall not argue that.”
