Romancing the Countess (36 page)

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Authors: Ashley March

Tags: #Historical romance, #Fiction

BOOK: Romancing the Countess
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He smiled and stroked her face, simply because he had to touch her. “I see that you’ve taken to following my orders well.”
She blinked, then pushed herself up on one arm. “Where were you? Is everything all right? You were gone a long time.”
“Missed me, did you?”
Already the sleep was clearing from her eyes. “I missed Henry, of course,” she teased, then lifted to her knees and gave him a short, sweet kiss. Sebastian would have lengthened it, but she climbed off the bed and straightened her skirts.
“I missed you, too,” he drawled, then took her hand and led her out the bedchamber. “Henry is almost asleep. I told him I’d have you come say good night before he went to bed.”
“I was worried about you.”
Sebastian turned his gaze to her, squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry. We would have returned sooner, but one of the wheels got stuck in the mud on the way back.”
“Is Henry well?” she asked as they climbed the steps to the second floor, quickening her pace.
“He’s fine, don’t worry. Just tired. I took him with me to visit with all the tenants, and it took much longer than I expected, for he wanted to play with all of the children he met.”
“Oh. Of course he would want to play, I suppose.” She climbed the remaining steps ahead of him without a word, and Sebastian wondered whether she was thinking about other children, wishing she could give Henry a brother or sister to play with.
“Leah—”
She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “I have something to tell you.”
Sebastian gave an inward sigh of relief. “Oh?”
She nodded and waited for him to reach her at the top of the stairs; then they turned and walked toward the nursery together.
“Am I going to have to barter for your secret?” he asked, unprepared for the thrill of joy when she slipped her hand inside his. “A kiss for each word, perhaps?”
She gave him a mysterious smile, then placed a finger over his mouth as they stopped outside the nursery. “Soon,” she promised, and walked inside.
Henry was at his small table, eating his supper. When he looked up and saw Leah, he scooted his chair backward and went to her. Leah lifted him up and kissed his cheek, then smoothed his hair.
“Hello, sweet boy,” she said. “I missed you today.”
“Missed you, too,” he said, wrapping his arms around her neck. Then, spying Sebastian behind her, Henry held out his arms again.
Sebastian gave Leah an apologetic glance as he tucked Henry against his chest. “It’s fine,” she whispered, touching Henry’s hair as he laid his head against Sebastian’s shoulder.
She smiled and, at that moment, Sebastian fell in love with her again. How many times had he spurned spending time with Henry so he could be with Angela? This was how it should be, when he didn’t have to choose between his wife and son. “Henry?” Sebastian said. “Are you ready to go to sleep?”
“I believe he already is,” Mrs. Fowler said from across the room.
Sebastian moved toward Henry’s bed and gently laid him down. Leah stepped close and pulled a blanket over his chest, then leaned forward to kiss his forehead. Sebastian touched Henry’s hair, then followed her out the door. Once he closed it behind them, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her neck. “Thank you,” he murmured against her skin.
Her hands came up to rest on his shoulders. “For what?”
“For loving him.”
Leah laughed and pulled back. “How could I not?” she asked. “As I told you before, he’s just like—” She stopped, closing her mouth, and looked away.
“Leah?”
“Do you recall that I had something to tell you?” She looked at him again. “I read another of Angela’s letters today, the last one.”
Sebastian tensed, his arms falling to his sides. “And?”
Leah smiled at him, her hand lifting to his jaw. “He’s yours, Sebastian. She says it in her letter. Even if you don’t think he looks like you, there’s proof now. He’s yours.”
Sebastian’s throat ached. He stared at her. “Are you sure?”
She nodded, reached for his hand. “Come, I’ll show you. You can read it for yourself.” He followed her blindly down the stairs, trying to resist the urge to run back to the nursery and look at Henry sleeping.
“I only wish I’d read this one first,” Leah said as they entered her bedchamber. She hurried to the window seat and picked up a packet of letters lying between the cushion and the window, tied with the pink ribbon Sebastian remembered seeing before. She drew out the one on top, then thrust it at his chest. “Here. This is it.”
Sebastian stared at it for a moment; then his fingers were fumbling as he unfolded the letter. It took a moment for his eyes to focus, and he skipped over the beginning, not seeing anything until he found Henry’s name.
The laughter started inside his chest, then pushed its way out, and Sebastian reached for Leah, spun her around in a half circle. It was either laugh or cry, and . . . bloody hell, perhaps both.
He kissed her, pouring out his love and joy and gratitude with the sweep of his mouth. “Thank you for not listening to me, for not burning them. Thank you,” he said. “I lo—” He caught himself and drew back, but she was laughing and crying, too. She hadn’t even noticed.
It was amazing how quickly his heart turned to lead in his chest, just with the realization that he still had to fear her withdrawal if he told her the truth. Sebastian concentrated on the task of folding the letter again. His fist closed over it tightly. “Thank you,” he repeated, then leaned forward and kissed a tear from her cheek. “Good night.”
“Wait,” she said as he turned toward the door. He closed his eyes, then glanced back with an attempted smile. He feared he failed. “Are you . . . Aren’t you going to stay with me? We could have dinner in here tonight, and—”
Sebastian shook his head. “Not tonight, I’m sorry.” He paused, wanting to erase the hurt from her eyes but not trusting himself to be the one to do it. “Thank you,” he said again, lifting the letter in his hand, then turned and walked out, closing the door behind him.
In the corridor, he leaned against the wall beside her bedchamber. Last night he’d tried to show her how he felt with the strokes of his hands and the touch of his mouth. The very fact that she’d invited him to her bed had felt like a victory. But afterward as he’d held her in his arms, with a profession of love hovering on his tongue, he remembered her reason for accepting his marriage proposal.
And that is why I decided to marry you, my lord. For I don’t love you, either.
Sebastian closed his eyes, his chin sinking toward his chest. How long he’d been trapped by those words, afraid to scare her away. How long he’d hoped that after she dealt with Ian’s ghost she would one day turn to him. Her confession of her relationship with Ian while they sat in the tree had been one step, her willingness to let him pleasure her another, and yet still it wasn’t enough. He wanted everything: her trust, her joy, her heart, her vulnerability.
If he continued waiting, would it mean she would come to love him? Would it take another month, a year? He could imagine them then, sharing each other’s beds, acting the happy family with Henry and possibly another child on the way. But they might still be kept apart by her reluctance and fear.
No, he couldn’t wait. Even if it meant she withdrew from him completely, he would tell her he loved her. She always spoke of wanting her independence; then let her decide how much it truly mattered.
Sebastian pushed away from the wall.
If she wouldn’t surrender to him, then he would surrender to her.
Chapter 22
 
I’ve noticed that your kisses have been longer, sweeter recently. Is it because we know that soon we will have every minute of every day to be together, that there’s no need to rush each moment now?
 
Three hours later, as Leah was preparing for bed, a knock came at the door from the hallway. Pulling her wrapper close around her night rail, she strolled across the rug and opened the door.
Sebastian stood on the other side in a black cloak. He held out his hand, palm facing upward. On it lay a small box, wrapped in plain brown paper.
“A gift for you,” he said. “I may have neglected to tell you that, in addition to visiting the tenants, we also bought you something in the village.”
“We?” Leah questioned, smiling. She wanted to ask him why he’d left as he had earlier, but it seemed the moment had passed. Everything was well between them again. Sebastian was here, his mouth curved charmingly, and her heart raced as a result. Yes, just like it should be.
He lifted a shoulder. “Henry actually chose it, though he used my coin. Therefore I suppose that yes, we bought it together.”
Leah reached out and lifted the package from his hand. With a glance at him from beneath lowered lashes, she unwrapped the paper. Inside was a silver box. She shook it.
“Perhaps it’s empty. Henry does like boxes, after all.”
She raised a brow. “Oh, perhaps it is. What a beautiful box,” she said, turning it around so she could gaze at it from all angles.
Sebastian chuckled and stepped forward, taking her hands between his. “However, I promise you that there is something inside this one.”
Leah swallowed at his nearness, her skin overly sensitive at his touch.
“Open it,” he urged, “else we’ll be late.”
“Late?” Leah pulled the lid from the box and peered inside, aware of Sebastian’s hand brushing against her breast as she brought the gift closer. A blue ribbon lay at the bottom, its satin length edged by lace.
“Henry wanted to buy you a hair ribbon,” Sebastian explained. “We searched for over an hour for the perfect gift, and this is what he chose. Although . . .” He paused, lowering his head to press a kiss to Leah’s neck. “I must admit that when I saw it I thought of tying up things other than your hair.”
Leah tilted her head. He kissed her again. “You should have let him give it to me.”
“Perhaps. But I wanted a reason to come see you.”
Her heart gave a lurch inside her chest. Leah closed the box and turned her head, meeting his mouth with her own.
“Now that I’m here,” he said against her lips, “I want you to come with me.”
“Where shall we go, my lord?” She tried to lean in to him, but he moved away, returning to the door.
“I’ve come to take you on a secret outing,” he said, raising his brows. “An adventure, you might say.”
Leah’s gaze fell from the cloak across his shoulders to the width of his chest, the leanness of his waist and down the length of his legs. Of course she would go with him. He could ask to take her to France on a storm-swept sea in nothing more than a canoe, and she’d say yes.
“Just a moment,” she said. “I have to—”
“Shh.”
She glanced at him, her brows knit. Sebastian grinned and winked at her. “You must whisper, else we’ll get caught.”
Unable to stop herself from smiling again, she stepped back and closed the door. As soon as she donned a simple day dress and her own cloak, she joined him in the corridor. “Here I am, my lord.”
“Perfect,” he said, then swooped her over his shoulder.
“Sebastian!” she shrieked, kicking her legs ineffectually, as his arm was wrapped around her thighs. The hood of her cloak fell over her head, obscuring her vision. She grasped handfuls of his cloak, trying to steady herself as he descended the stairs.
“You’re not being very quiet,” he admonished her.
As he continued walking and her hood bobbed out and away from her face, Leah could see two footmen from the corner of her eye as they walked out the front door.
“Yes, and a lot of good it would do to be quiet when all the servants see the way you’re absconding with me.”
Sebastian patted her bottom as if she needed to be soothed. Then, as they fell outside the circle of lamplight from the house, his movement turned into a caress, circling across her buttocks.
“Sebastian,” Leah warned, choking between a fit of laughter and the immediate flaring of desire.
“Before we were married, you said you wanted adventure. Do you remember?”
“Yes. I also recall saying that I wished for independence. Having a brute of an earl carry me over his shoulder does not make me feel very independent.”
“My poor, dear wife. Well, we cannot have everything, can we?” With one arm still holding her pinned to his chest, she felt his other hand creep up her calf.
Leah let go of one fistful of his cloak and reached back, trying to swat him away. “Don’t do that.”
“Oh, this?” As if her hand was nothing more than a gentle breeze, his fingers continued their ascent, slipping over the back of her knees to tickle at her thighs.
Leah gasped. “Sebastian.”
“We’re here,” he announced, and brought her down, sliding her down the front of his body, setting his hands at her hips to steady her as her feet hit the ground, holding her flush against him.

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