CHAPTER SIX #2
They stood there, inches apart, the air between them charged with something that made Harriet's skin prickle.
She could see the rapid rise and fall of Sebastian's chest, could see the pulse hammering in his throat.
Could see, for the first time, the full depth of feeling he had been trying so hard to hide.
"Sebastian…"
"Don't." He stepped back, his expression closing like a door slamming shut. "Forget I said anything. It's not my place to tell you how to live your life."
"You don't get to do that. You don't get to say something like that and then pretend it never happened."
"I do, actually. Because you're right…it's none of my business. You have a choice to make, and my feelings are irrelevant to that choice."
"Your feelings?" Harriet's voice rose. "What feelings, Sebastian? You've spent the past week helping me, listening to me, looking at me like…" She stopped, suddenly uncertain. "What exactly are your feelings?"
Sebastian's laugh was harsh, hollow. "Does it matter? You've just received a proposal that solves all your problems. My feelings are nothing but a complication."
"A complication I'd like to understand."
"Why? So you can weigh them against Davies's eight thousand pounds? So you can calculate whether my... whatever this is... outweighs your family's debts?"
"That's not fair."
"None of this is fair. That's rather the point." Sebastian turned away, his voice bitter. "Go to bed, Harriet. Get some sleep. In the morning, you can decide whether to become Lady Davies, and I'll wish you all the happiness you deserve."
"Sebastian, wait…"
But he was already walking away, his footsteps echoing in the empty corridor. Harriet watched him go, her heart aching with something she couldn't quite name.
She had wanted to understand his feelings. Now, standing alone in the darkened hallway, she was beginning to think she understood them all too well.
The question was what she was going to do about it.
***
Sleep, predictably, did not come.
Harriet lay in the unfamiliar bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the evening's events in her mind. Davies's proposal, with its cold clarity. Sebastian's outburst, with its raw emotion. The impossible choice that lay before her.
I did not refuse to buy you just to watch you sell yourself to someone else.
The words echoed in her memory, heavy with implications she was only beginning to understand.
Sebastian had refused to become her husband her when she had no other choice.
But his refusal had not been indifference, it had been restraint.
He had wanted her, even then. He simply hadn't been willing to take advantage of her desperation.
And now Davies was offering exactly what Sebastian had refused to take.
Did she want to wed Davies? The question seemed absurd. Of course she didn't want to wed him. He was charming and handsome and utterly devoid of any real feeling for her. Matrimony to him would be comfortable, perhaps, but empty. A transaction, nothing more.
But did she want to wed Sebastian?
The thought caught her off guard. She had spent so long hating him, then so long trying not to think about him, that she had never seriously considered what a future with him might look like.
It would be complicated, certainly. They argued constantly. They had years of misunderstanding to untangle. He was proud and sardonic and infuriatingly perceptive, and she was stubborn and sharp-tongued and far too quick to assume the worst.
But he was also kind. Thoughtful. Capable of vulnerability in ways she had never expected.
He had sat in a library at midnight and confessed his fears.
He had spent hours searching through dusty documents to find something that might save her family.
He had offered to forgive a fortune, asking nothing in return.
And he looked at her like she was the most fascinating person in the world.
Harriet sat up in bed, her heart pounding with sudden clarity.
She did not want to wed Lord Davies. She did not want a convenient arrangement with a man who saw her as a means to an end.
What she wanted, what she was only now allowing herself to admit she wanted, was standing somewhere in the west wing, probably unable to sleep, probably torturing himself over words he wished he could take back.
But wanting something and being able to have it were two very different things. Sebastian had been clear: he would not wed her under these circumstances. He would not take advantage of her desperation, no matter how much he might want to.
Which meant that if anything was going to change, she would have to be the one to change it.
The question was how.
***
Dawn found Harriet dressed and determined.
She had made a decision. It might be the wrong decision but she had made it nonetheless, and she was not the sort of woman who second-guessed herself once her mind was set.
She found Davies in the breakfast room, cheerfully attacking a plate of eggs and kippers. He looked up at her entrance with a smile that was somehow both welcoming and predatory.
"Lady Harriet! You're up early. I trust you slept well?"
"Well enough, thank you." Harriet took a seat across from him. "I've come to give you my answer."
Davies's eyebrows rose. "So soon? I thought you wanted time to consider."
"I've considered. And I'm afraid I must decline your very generous offer."
The words hung in the air between them. Davies's expression didn't change, but something in his eyes hardened.
"I see. May I ask why?"
"Because you deserve a wife who enters the arrangement with her whole heart. And I'm afraid I cannot offer that."
"I told you, I don't require your heart. Only your hand."
"I know. But I require more from myself." Harriet met his gaze steadily. "I am grateful for your candor, Lord Davies. And I hope we might still reach some arrangement regarding the debt…"
"The debt." Davies's laugh was short and humorless. "You refuse my proposal and then ask me to negotiate the debt? You have nerve, Lady Harriet. I'll grant you that."
"I have desperation, which is not quite the same thing. But I also have hope that you might prove yourself a better man than your reputation suggests."
"My reputation." Davies leaned back in his chair, studying her. "And what exactly is my reputation, Lady Harriet?"
"That you are a man who does nothing without calculating the benefit to himself. That you see every interaction as a transaction."
"Both true. Which is why I'm curious about your reasoning." Davies's eyes narrowed. "You've refused a proposal that solves all your problems. You must have something better waiting in the wings."
"I don't have anything waiting. I simply cannot enter into matrimony with you.”
"Cannot or will not?"
"Both."
Davies was silent for a long moment. Then, unexpectedly, he smiled.
"Lord Vane," he said. "That's what this is about, isn't it?"
Harriet felt heat climb her cheeks. "I don't know what you mean."
"Oh, I think you do. I saw the way he looked at you at dinner.
The way he looked at me, for that matter.
The man could barely contain himself." Davies shook his head, something like admiration in his expression.
"I should have known. The famous Lady Harriet Fordshire, scourge of London suitors, brought low by her brother's best friend. "
"You're mistaken…"
"I'm rarely mistaken about such things. It's a gift." Davies rose, moving to stand by the window. "Very well, Lady Harriet. I accept your refusal. But the debt remains."
"I understand."
"Do you? Because I was prepared to be generous. Now I'm feeling considerably less charitable." He turned to face her.
"You have until month's end to find the money. After that, I will pursue every legal remedy available to me."
"That was always the arrangement."
"Yes. But before, I was hoping to avoid the unpleasantness. Now…" His smile was cold.
"…I find I rather welcome it."
He swept past her and out of the room, leaving Harriet alone with the ruins of her plan and the dawning realisation that she had just made everything considerably worse.
***
She found Sebastian in the stables, preparing the horses for departure.
He looked up at her approach, his expression wary. "You're up early."
"I've been to see Lord Davies."
Sebastian's hands stilled on the horse's bridle. "And?"
"I refused him."
Something flickered across Sebastian's face, relief, maybe, or something more complicated. "I see."
"He was not pleased. He's threatened to pursue legal action immediately if we don't pay by month's end."
"That was always a possibility."
"I am fully aware." Harriet moved closer. "Sebastian, I need to tell you something."
"You don't need to tell me anything."
"Yes, I do. Because last night, you said…" She stopped, gathering her courage. "You said that you couldn't stand by and watch me wed Davies. You said it mattered more than you could explain."
Sebastian's jaw tightened. “I exceeded the boundaries of propriety and I offer my apologies.”
"Don't apologise. I'm glad you said it."
"You are?"
"Yes. Because it helped me understand something." Harriet took a breath. "I don't want to wed Lord Davies. I don't want a convenient arrangement with a man who sees me as a transaction. I want…" She hesitated, suddenly uncertain how to continue.
"What do you want, Harriet?"
The question was soft, almost gentle. Sebastian had turned to face her fully, his grey eyes searching her face.
"I don't know exactly," she admitted. "But I know it's not Davies. And I know…" She stopped, shook her head.
“I fear I am expressing myself with a most lamentable lack of clarity…”
"Take your time."
"I don't have time. That's rather the problem." Harriet laughed, a small, helpless sound. "My family is in debt. My home is at risk. I've just refused the one proposal that could have solved everything. And all I can think about is…"
"Is what?"
"You." The word came out barely above a whisper.
"I keep thinking about you. About what you said in the library. About the way you've been helping us, and the way you look at me, and…" She broke off, cheeks burning.
“This is beyond endurance! I am becoming a spectacle of my own making.”
"You're not." Sebastian's voice was rough.
"Then what am I doing?"
"I don't know." He took a step toward her. "But I'd very much like to find out."
They stood there, barely a foot apart, the horses shifting restlessly behind them. Harriet could see Sebastian's chest rising and falling rapidly, could see the conflict in his expression, desire and restraint warring for dominance.
"Sebastian…"
"Don't." He held up a hand. "Don't say anything else. Not yet."
"Why not?"
"Because if you say what I think you're about to say, I'm going to do something that neither of us can take back."
"What if I don't want to take it back?"
Sebastian's eyes darkened. "Harriet…"
The stable door burst open, admitting a gust of cold air and Mary's flustered face.
"My lady! Everything is ready for our departure.”