CHAPTER 16

“About this perilous attraction between us?” He smiled faintly and Clara’s heart clenched with a combination of misery and longing. “There is nothing we can do. You are not a woman I can have by any means other than marriage. I accept that.” His voice was calm but there was an undertone of emotion that seared Clara. She knew he wanted her and wanted her desperately.

The words fell into the silence. Despite the warmth of the room, Clara shivered. A little while ago, a mere half hour perhaps, she would have believed she was truly a woman bound by convention. Now she had tasted passion and her body ached for it. It would be fulfilling, overwhelming, to **** **** with Sebastian Fleet. She had sampled desire and it made her hungry.

“Sebastian.”

He read her tone and she saw the leap of fire in his eyes. He came to his knees by her chair, taking her cold hands in his. “Clara...”

For a long moment they stared at each other, but then Clara shook her head. “I cannot do it, Sebastian. If it were only for myself I...” She broke off, unable even now, after all that had happened between them, to confess to what felt such an unmaidenly desire. She looked up again and met his eyes. “But you would lose my brother’s friendship and gain nothing but the censure of those who had been your friends.”

“It would be worth it for you.” The sincerity in his tone was beyond question. His hands tightened on hers. “It would be worth it and more, a hundred times over, to have you even for a little while...”

For a moment, Clara’s world spun on the edge of a different existence. She was a woman of independent means. There was no one else she would rather marry. She could not imagine there ever would be, for she loved Sebastian Fleet with all the stubbornness in her character. Yet upbringing and principle ran so deep. To lose her good reputation, to lose her family and friends, all the things she had once taken for granted, and to gain what? Not Sebastian’s love, for he had sworn himself incapable of that. What was he really offering her? A few months of bliss perhaps, but with everlasting darkness at the end.

He released her suddenly and stood up, turning away. “No, I know it would not serve. I could not ask it of you, Clara, even if you were willing. You are not the kind of woman who could be happy with such an arrangement.”

He was right. They both knew it. Clara felt her spirits sink like a stone. So this really was the end.

“So what do we do?” she asked hopelessly, a third time.

“We do not see each other again. It is the only way.” Clara shook her head. “That will not suffice. We are forever in the same company. We cannot avoid it. It will be unbearable.”

The shadows made the planes of his face even more austere. “Then I will go away.”

“No!” The cry was wrenched from Clara. That she could not bear. Not to see him again would be painful enough, but to think that he had exiled himself because of her...

“perhaps,” she said, after a moment, “it will become easier in time.”

“I doubt it.” There was a smile in Sebastian’s voice now. “Not when I cannot even look at you without wishing to kiss you senseless and strip all your clothing from you and **** **** to you until you are exhausted in my arms.”

Clara made a small sound of distress, squirming in her chair with a mixture of remembered desire and unfulfilled passion. “Do not!”

“I am sorry.” She knew he was not only speaking of what had happened between them. He was speaking of his inability to give her what she desired.

The library door opened with shocking suddenness. Both Clara and Sebastian spun around like a couple of guilty schoolchildren. Engrossed in their own passions and anxieties, neither of them had heard the front door open or the sound of voices in the hall, or footsteps approaching.

Segsbury, Juliana and Martin were all poised in the doorway. Segsbury looked genuinely startled to see the Duke of Fleet in the house a full half hour after the man’s supposed departure. Juliana looked shocked and Martin merely furious.

Clara felt a bubble of hysterical laughter rising inside her. She was seated; Sebastian was standing a good few feet away. There was nothing remotely compromising in their demeanor. And yet she wondered what on earth was showing on their faces.

“A curious time of the night to be making calls, Sebastian,” Martin said, and although his voice was perfectly pleasant it held a distinct undertone of menace “Segsbury implied that you had brought some gifts for the children.”

“I did.” Clara saw Sebastian pull himself together with an effort. “Excuse me. As you say, it is late. I should be leaving.”

For a moment it looked to Clara, frozen in her seat, as though Martin were not inclined to let his friend go so easily. Then Juliana drifted forward. “Dear Sebastian,” she said, putting one hand on Fleet’s arm, “how thoughtful of you to bring presents.” She steered him toward the door and after a moment, Martin stepped aside, though there was still an ugly look in his eyes. “Segsbury will show you out,” Juliana continued, “and we shall see you soon, I am sure.” She relinquished his arm and Segsbury stepped forward, perfectly on cue, just in case the Duke had once again forgotten his way to the front door.

“This way, your grace.”

Clara waited. Sebastian half turned toward her and Martin made an unmistakably threatening movement.

“Good night, Miss Davencourt,” Sebastian said. There was nothing but darkness in his eyes. He inclined his head. “Davencourt, Lady Juliana...”

The library door shut with an ominous thud and Martin took a purposeful step toward her. Clara shrank in her chair.

“Martin, darling,” Juliana said clearly, “I wonder if you might check on the nursery? I would be relieved to know that all is well.”

Clara saw the tiny shake of the head that JuIiana gave her husband and, after a moment, to Clara’s inexpressible relief, Martin went out.

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