CHAPTER TWELVE #2
Sebastian intervened before Harriet could expire of embarrassment. "We've spoken about it in general terms, Lady Fordshire. We're both open to the possibility, when the time is right."
"When the time is right." Lady Fordshire's expression suggested she had opinions about this phrasing. "And when, precisely, would that be?"
"When we've had a chance to establish our life together.
To learn each other properly." Sebastian met her gaze steadily.
"I want children, Lady Fordshire. But I want a strong foundation first. Harriet and I have spent seven years misunderstanding each other.
I'd like to spend at least a few months understanding each other before we add new complications. "
Lady Fordshire studied him for a long moment. Then she nodded, something like approval in her expression.
"A sensible answer. I suppose I can wait a few months." She returned her attention to her dinner. "But not too many months, mind you. I'm not getting any younger."
"Yes, Mama," Harriet said, her voice resigned.
Sebastian caught her eye across the table and smiled. She rolled her eyes in response, but her foot found his under the table, a small secret contact that made his heart race.
This was his life now. Family dinners and good-natured teasing and the warm weight of belonging.
He had never imagined he could have this. He was still learning to believe it was real.
***
After dinner, Lady Fordshire retired early, claiming fatigue but fooling no one. Sebastian suspected she was giving them privacy, and he was grateful for it.
He and Harriet settled in the drawing room with glasses of wine, the fire burning low in the grate. The evening had turned cool, and Harriet had drawn a shawl around her shoulders, making her look soft and approachable in a way that still surprised him.
"I've been thinking," she said, after a comfortable silence.
"That sounds dangerous."
"Hush." She swatted his arm. "I've been thinking about what happens when we go back to Thornwood."
"We live there. As husband and wife. That was rather the plan."
"I know, but…" She hesitated, swirling her wine. "What does that actually look like? What do we do with ourselves? You have estate business, I suppose, but what about me? What's my role?"
It was a fair question. Sebastian had not given much thought to the practicalities of their life together, he had been too focused on the monumental achievement of winning her love to consider what came after.
"You can do whatever you wish," he said. "The household is yours to manage, if you want it. The library is at your disposal. The gardens could use someone with actual opinions about roses." He paused. "Or you could write."
Harriet looked up sharply. "Write?"
"Poetry. Stories. Whatever inspires you.
" Sebastian set down his wine glass and leaned forward.
"You have talent, Harriet. Real talent. I've read your work, I’ve read it for seven years and I know how good you are.
If you wanted to pursue it seriously, I would support that in whatever way you needed. "
"No one publishes female poets."
"Some do. And even if they didn't, you could write for yourself. For me. For our children, someday." He caught her hand. "The point is, you have choices now. You're not trapped. You can be whoever you want to be."
Harriet was quiet for a long moment. "You really believe that? That I'm talented?"
"I believe it absolutely."
"You're biased."
"Hopelessly. But that doesn't make me wrong."
She laughed, a watery sound, and Sebastian realised she was fighting back tears. "I used to dream about this, you know. Having someone who believed in me. Someone who saw what I could be, not just what I was supposed to be."
"And now?"
"Now I have it, and I don't quite know what to do with myself." She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "You're going to have to be patient with me, Sebastian. I'm not used to being supported."
"Neither am I." He pulled her closer, until she was tucked against his side on the settee. "But I'm told it gets easier with practice."
"Who told you that?"
"A very wise woman. Just a few hours ago, in fact."
"She sounds insufferable."
"Utterly. I'm completely besotted with her."
Harriet laughed again, properly this time, and settled more comfortably against him. They sat like that for a while, watching the fire burn low, talking about everything and nothing. Plans for Thornwood. Places they wanted to visit. Names they might give children who didn't yet exist.
"I'd like to travel," Harriet said, at one point. "I've never been abroad. Mama was always too worried about the expense, and then the debts made it impossible."
"Where would you like to go?"
"Italy, I think. I've read so much about it, the art, the ruins, the light." Her voice grew dreamy. "I'd like to see the Colosseum. And Venice. And the countryside in Tuscany."
"Then we'll go. This spring, perhaps, when the weather turns."
"Just like that?"
"Just like that." Sebastian pressed a kiss to her hair. "I've always wanted to see Italy. I just never had anyone I wanted to see it with."
Harriet was quiet for a moment. Then she tilted her head up and kissed him, slow and sweet.
"Thank you," she murmured against his lips.
"For what?"
"For being you. For making this seem possible." She pulled back to look at him. "I spent so long believing I would never have this. A real partnership. Someone who wanted to build a life with me, not just acquire me."
"You deserve all of it. You deserve more than I could ever give you."
"That's objectively untrue."
"I disagree."
"Then we'll have to argue about it."
"I look forward to it."