Chapter Seventeen #2
“Because you are surrounded by women of future legends,” Ashley said, raising her tankard. “Now drink. Then tell us what happened.”
Maddie took a generous sip of the honeyed ale and inhaled sharply. “It was… perfect. Not the kiss, well, yes, the kiss, but more the moment before. During. And after. Everything.”
“And was the kiss?” Sera asked, intrigued.
Heat flushed her skin. “Well, of course.”
Charlene leaned in. “Tongue?”
“Char!” Maddie squeaked.
Ashley smirked. “I take that as a yes.”
“Does it even matter?”
“Of course it does,” Sera said. “The one is chaste, the other is not.”
“A kiss from a man by its very nature isn’t chaste.”
Sera shrugged. “That might very well be true.”
“Well, ours was nice,” Maddie muttered. “Too nice. Now I don’t know what to do.”
“You do what any self-respecting woman would do after kissing a man she’s clearly halfway in love with,” Ashley said. “You panic, drink ale, and demand answers from your friends.”
Maddie feared halfway in love was an understatement.
“I don’t recall you ever doing it!”
“We all manage our panic differently.”
Charlene took a sip of ale. “All right, be honest. Do you want to wed him?”
Maddie hesitated.
“Ah-ha!” Ashley crowed. “You do!”
“How did we go from kissing to marriage?”
Sera chuckled. “The heart wants what the heart wants.”
Truer words were never spoken. “Is that greedy?”
“Greedy is wanting three husbands,” Sera said. “You’re fine.”
“But he hasn’t said anything since,” Maddie went on. “He’s polite and present and entirely himself, but—no declarations.”
Charlene drained her tankard. “So he hasn’t read you any horrific poetry.”
“No, and I don’t need such things. I just want… something. Anything. A clue. A glimmer.”
Ashley leaned in. “You can always do the reading of poetry.”
“No. Absolutely not.”
Her friends laughed.
“Honestly,” Charlene said. “He’s a man, Maddie. They rarely have the words. They have gestures.”
Ashley nodded sagely. “And beer.”
Maddie hesitated again. Then: “I’m not against gestures if it’s… his way of saying he couldn’t find the words.”
“Gestures go both ways,” Sera pointed out.
Maddie considered. “Gestures from ladies would be wildly inappropriate.”
Charlene grinned. “Which makes it perfect.”
Maddie leaned back in her seat, heart a little lighter, and said quietly, “I hope it is perfect.” She looked to Ashley’s belly. “How are you feeling?”
“Oh, I’m barely eating, casting up what I do, and my feet are swollen like sausages. I’m in heaven.”
Ashley’s dry smile made the rest of the table burst into laughter.
“You truly have a way with words,” Charlene said, grinning.
“I was a poet in another life,” Ashley replied. “A tragic one. Died of scandal, naturally.”
Maddie smiled, though her fingers were curled around her tankard like it might steady her very soul. “So what am I meant to do now? Wait for him to decide what he wants?”
Charlene tilted her head. “That depends, I suppose. Do you want to be courted like a lady in a novel? Grand declarations, letters folded into handkerchiefs, wildflowers delivered to your doorstep?”
“Saints, no,” Maddie said quickly. “I’d die of embarrassment. Besides, I like things to be… real. Practical. Real.”
“Then why are you waiting for him to take the lead?” Sera asked gently.
This again. Well, she didn’t know how to take the lead, honestly.
“You kissed him,” Sera pointed out. “You made the first move. Besides, the way I see it, you are already in courtship.”
They were?
“That was… impulse.”
“Darling,” Charlene cut in, “if you think the rest of us operate on anything but impulse, you haven’t been paying attention.”
That was… so true.
“She’s not wrong,” Ashley muttered. “I practically threw myself at Thomas.”
“For diabolical reasons,” Charlene muttered. “Not impulse.”
“The first time was diabolical.” Ashley smirked. “Not the second time.”
“Yes, well, you are indeed lucky that he caught you,” Maddie said with a small smile.
Ashley nodded, then looked at her meaningfully. “And maybe Sebastian’s waiting for you to trust him enough to throw yourself again. Just once. Fully.”
“Normal gentlemen don’t wait for that.”
Maddie’s brows pulled together. “But what if he’s hesitating because he doesn’t want the same thing I do?”
“What do you want?” Sera asked.
Maddie swallowed. That was the real question, wasn’t it? And it had taken Sera to come from Transylvania and her tour of the Continent to ask it.
Come to think of it, Maddie had an answer.
“I want someone who sees me. Who doesn’t think I’m simply convenient or clever or a good match on paper.
” Her voice dropped. “I want someone who wants me. The messy bits. The stubbornness. The parts that don’t fit into debutante expectations.
” The kind her mother tried so hard to mold her into.
Charlene gave a little shrug. “Then it’s Sebastian. You know it is. We all do. I’d wager he sees a lot more than that.”
Maddie stared into the golden swirl of her ale. “But I’m afraid of wanting more than I should.”
“You mean you’re afraid of being disappointed,” Ashley said softly.
Maddie met her friend’s eyes. “Yes.”
“Let me tell you something about men,” Charlene said. “Most of them, especially the good ones, don’t always have the words. But when they want you, they’ll show you. Even if they don’t realize they’re doing it.”
Maddie exhaled. “So… I just need to look for the signs? While being swept off my feet?”
“No,” Sera said, laughing. “You need to decide if you’re brave enough to give a sign. Something small. A gesture, like you said. Something that tells him you’re open to more.”
Maddie tapped her fingers on the table. “What kind of gesture?”
Ashley’s eyes lit with mischief. “Do you still have that book we gave you?”
“Yes.”
“Read a passage from it to him.” Charlene grinned. “Now that’s romantic.”
Maddie rolled her eyes. “You’re asking me to send him running for the mountains.”
“Well, he could comment on the advice.” Sera raised her tankard. “To bold gestures.”
The others echoed her, tankards clinking. Maddie clutched hers, a spark of certainty blooming beneath her ribs.
But certainty was a fragile thing, wasn’t it? A single glance, a poorly timed silence, and it could crack like porcelain beneath the weight of doubt.
Maddie looked down at the frothy swirl of her drink, her thumb running absently along the tankard’s handle.
Her friends made it sound so easy—boldness, gestures, daring declarations.
And she loved them for it, their fire and chaos and strange, glittering courage.
But she wasn’t like them. Not quite. Not yet.
She’d spent her whole life being careful.
Measured. Making sense. She was the one who carried lemon drops in her reticule in case of nausea, who always had a spare handkerchief, who remembered names and allergies and who hated gooseberry jam.
She knew how to tend a fever. How to pour tea.
How to keep herself from wanting too much.
But now she wanted too much.
And it wasn’t the kiss that had undone her. It was the way Sebastian looked at her after. Like he didn’t want to let go. Like he saw her… and still stayed.
She pressed her palm flat against her chest, steadying the drum of her heart.
What if she gave him a sign… and he missed it? What if she gave herself to the moment, completely, and he hesitated again? Not out of indifference, but fear?
Would she be strong enough to survive the ache?
But what if… he met her there?
What if, just once, she chose to believe the glimmer instead of burying it? To step forward and offer something of herself not out of duty but desire?
Maybe that’s what falling in love was. Not a grand gesture. But a thousand quiet choices.
And maybe, she could make the next one.
Perhaps she wasn’t panicking after all.
Perhaps she was simply still falling.