Chapter 16 #2
She stepped back, putting space between them, her hands clasped, her expression the particular one he had come to recognize when she was working up to something difficult.
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. He moved to the chair nearest the window and sat, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, giving her the room she needed. He schooled his expression into one of patience.
Because this was important.
Whatever Harriet was about to say, whatever weighed on her, he needed to hear it. He wanted to hear it. All of it. Every shadowed corner she had kept from him.
Still, he forced himself to remain still, watching her intently.
“Then unburden yourself, Harry,” he said, his voice low and steady. “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. He watched the auburn waves loosen and said nothing, only waited.
“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 firmly 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, as if 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, not even in frustration, but because he felt the full weight of what those lost years had cost them both, and the knowledge of it was almost more than he could sit with quietly.
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 Harriet as she had chosen to become, embracing the difficult path that led to genuine rewards, so he remained where he was, watching her unravel before him as she had never done before.
She seemed ready to reveal her 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 claim a future 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 social veneer 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 stopped in 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.
Sebastian was so still, his broad frame leaning against the back of his chair, arms folded over his chest. He seemed too calm watching her with steady gray eyes that revealed nothing of his thoughts. He had shown no reaction to anything she had said thus far, simply listening.
Her breath quickened as she tried to think how to say what came next.
If he stayed in the room after this, if he did not storm out, if he did not look at her with disgust, then she would know. She would know that he would never leave her. That no matter what she said, what she had done, she would not lose him.
And yet, it was so despicable.
She swallowed, her throat tightening as she fought to force the words from her lips.
Just say it, Harriet. Say it before you lose your courage.
“But that is not the worst,” she finally blurted, the words rushing out before she could stop them. “Last year, I had an affair with your cousin Perry.”
Sebastian straightened, his arms uncrossing, a deep frown appearing on his face.
Harriet’s breath caught. This is it. This is where he leaves.
She watched in growing panic as he ran a hand through his golden hair, his fingers raking through the strands in that familiar way he always did when he was thinking, when he was troubled.
Her stomach plummeted.
Then he exhaled slowly, lowering his hand. He met her gaze, his expression unreadable, but then, he nodded.
Harriet stared at him, stunned.
And then he spoke, his voice low but steady. “All right.”
She blinked. “All right?”
Sebastian gave a small, weary nod. “It is not what I would have wished to hear, but … I cannot say I am surprised. You were lonely. He can be charming.” His mouth quirked in something that might have been amusement in a different circumstance.
“And he was utterly without honor, although I am told he is a very different man now.”
Harriet released a shuddering breath, barely able to process his words.
He was not leaving. He had not raged. Had not recoiled.
And the part of her that had been bracing for his rejection, that had been certain of it, felt like a tightly coiled spring snapping loose.
“You are not angry?” she asked, hesitant.
Sebastian ran a hand down his face, then sighed.
“Oh, I am angry.” His voice was rough now, his gaze sharp as steel.
“But not at you. Not anymore.” He shook his head, as though working through his thoughts.
“I have spent years resenting the past. Resenting you. But the truth is, I left you to face England alone while I ran off to Italy. I should have fought harder for you. I should have made it impossible for you to doubt me.”
Tears burned at the backs of her eyes.
“I did doubt you,” she whispered. “I doubted that you could stand against your brother. I doubted that I was worth fighting for.”
Sebastian took a step toward her, his voice fierce now. “You were worth it, Harry. You are worth it.”
Her pulse stumbled in shock, and then … she was in his arms.
Sebastian caught her, then held her at arm’s length, his strong hands firm but gentle as they rested on her upper arms. She could see the longing in his eyes, the way his gaze traced the lines of her face, the curve of her lips, but he would not allow her to press against him.
His voice was quiet but unyielding. “We should finish this, Harry. Tell me about Brendan.”
Harriet blinked, stunned. A cold wave of dread swept through her, and she instinctively tugged out of his grip, crossing the room to wrap her arms around herself.
“Someone told you?” she asked eventually, her voice hesitant.
Sebastian shook his head. “It was a guess.” He exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Brendan did not say a single word during dinner last night. And he attempted to interrupt the duke when he thought his secrets were going to be revealed.”
Harriet let out a short, bitter laugh, rubbing at her hair again, heedless of how she was mussing the already-loose strands. “Yes,” she said hoarsely. “I had an affair with him.” She hesitated before forcing herself to continue. “But that was not the worst of it.”
She turned to face him fully now, her heart pounding.
“The problem was that he was here. In this house. When his father was murdered.” Her voice grew thready.
“And I—I would not provide him an alibi. I was dismissive and selfish, and I refused to involve myself.” She swallowed, shame thick in her throat.
“Lily stepped forward in my place. She gave the alibi I should have given. And so they had to marry.”
She braced herself, expecting Sebastian’s anger, expecting his condemnation.