Page 75 of The Courtship Trap
Harriet sighed against him, her soft body molding to his as he strode across the threshold of her bedchamber. He kicked the door shut behind them, blocking out the world beyond, leaving only the heat between them, the rapid beating of their hearts, the slow drag of breath as he inhaled the scent of her—warm, feminine,his.
But then, she stirred in his arms, shifting against his chest, pushing lightly against him. “Sebastian, let me down.”
He hesitated. The last thing he wanted was space between them. But the quiet urgency in her voice cut through his desire. Slowly, reluctantly, he let her slide down the length of his body.
Her descent was agonizing. Every soft contour of her pressed against the rigid proof of his desire, her skirts rustling as she slipped down inch by inch, her lips tilted up toward his, their mouths fused in a slow, searing kiss.
Then, just as his arms flexed to pull her back, she broke away.
Sebastian exhaled sharply as she stepped back, escaping his embrace completely.
She turned, pacing across the room, hands wringing together.
“I do not want to bear the burden of my secrets anymore,” she muttered, more to herself than to him.
Sebastian drew a slow, measured breath, willing his body to calm even as every muscle in him protested. He shifted, leaning back against the doorframe, arms crossed, schooling his expression into one of patience. But inside, he was aflame.
Every fiber of his being demanded that he go to her, pull her back into his arms, into the bed, into him.
But intrigue held him still.
Because this was important.
Whatever Harriet was about to say, whatever weighed on her, he needed to hear it.
Even if the only thing he truly wanted was to continue what they had begun the night before, to explore every inch of her again until there were no more barriers, no more lies, no more regrets.
Still, he forced himself to remain by the door, watching her intently.
“Then unburden yourself, Harry,” he said, his voice low, rough with restrained passion. “Tell me everything.”
Harriet licked her lips, her hands moving restlessly to her hair, disturbing the careful arrangement until strands began to slip free, mussing the perfect coif.
Sebastian’s fingers itched. He wanted to reach out, pluck the pins from her hair, watch her glorious auburn waves spill down her back in a shimmering cascade. But she was pacing, her expression tense, her breath coming quick and shallow as if she were struggling to contain all the words rushing to escape.
“Where do I even start?” she muttered.
He said nothing. Just watched. Waited.
And then the words tumbled out, a frantic rush, as if she could no longer hold them in.
“The day I was supposed to meet you. The day we were meant to go to Calais,” she said in a whisper, her fingers knotting together in a tight grip. “I-I was scared.” She looked at him then, her blue eyes wide and pleading. “Not because I did not love you. Not because I did not want you. But because I was afraid that you could not support us if your brother cut you off. He was so dead set against helping us court that I was certain he would. But that was because it was what my father would do, and I cannot speak to the duke’s possible actions in that event.”
Sebastian listened, remaining silent.
“I was selfish,” she continued, her voice thick with remorse. “I chose money and status. I told myself it was the practical decision. That it was for the best. That you would resent me when it became too hard.” She gave a short, bitter laugh. “But it was never worth it. Not once.”
She swallowed, bracing herself to continue her confession.
“My father …” She hesitated, then shook her head. “No. I will not blame him. The choice was mine. But he did whisper doubts in my ear. He filled my head with fears, coaxed me to marry Horace Slight because of the advantages it gave him.And I let him. I knew what kind of man he was. I knew I should have ignored his discouragements. But I listened, because it suited me to do so. To not show courage but to take the easy way out.”
Sebastian’s hands curled into fists. Not in anger—no, not even in frustration. But because the desire to throw her onto the bed, until every regret was erased, was nearly overwhelming.
But he understood. She needed this. Needed to purge these thoughts, to release them from the dark corners of her mind where they had festered for years. This was the new Harriet, embracing the difficult path that led to genuine rewards, so heremained where he was, watching her unravel before him as she had never done before.
She was ready to reveal her innermost thoughts and finally let him in. But in this moment, he knew that nothing she could ever say would make him rethink his choice to finally join with her. All the years of pain and loss had washed away while Sophia and Richard had revealed the real Harriet, the woman he had always known she was beneath the facade she had erected under her father’s tutelage year by year. And now that he had finally found this woman, the real woman, he was never letting her go.
Harriet pausedin the middle of the floor, her hands twisting together so tightly that her knuckles ached. The fire crackled softly in the grate, the only sound in the stillness of the room.
