'Tis the Season for Lady Sarah - Maggie Dallen Page 0,17
response, he stroked a hand down her back. “You’re not,” he replied, continuing the slow, gentle touch until she relaxed again. “When I was just about your age, so not that long ago,” he winked and she smiled in return, “I fell in love too.”
He shook his head. “But no one saved me from illicit meetings in the garden.” Clearing his throat, he looked away as the memories filled his thoughts. Dimly he was aware of her arms slipping down, releasing her grip on him. Cold air slipped between them and made him tense. “I thought she would marry me. An earl’s daughter, I assumed we’d be the match of the year.” He still didn’t look at her. “I’m sure you think that makes me the snob you’ve always imagined me to be, but honestly, I didn’t think of it like that. I only thought that her parents would surely approve and that meant we’d be together forever.”
She gave a wry grin as she pulled back to better see him. “On this account, I understand completely.”
He dropped his arms from her waist to let her go, forcing a casual tone as he admitted the rest. “But it turned out an even bigger title had expressed interest.”
She gasped, her horror written plainly on her face. “No, she didn’t.”
“She did. It was your brother who helped me realize the truth.”
He saw her shiver, her teeth beginning to chatter. He tugged her back into his arms. For warmth, that was all. Her gaze stayed fixed straight ahead, lost in thought. “Well, that only makes me feel marginally better.”
“Why is that?” he asked, squinting in the darkness to see her face, those eyes that lit his world even in the near darkness of the garden.
“At least you were thrown over for a reason.” She shook her head. “Well, Mr. Stallworth surely has a reason but it’s likely something about her being prettier, or nicer, or more mature. It would be far easier if she were a duke’s sister instead of a baron’s. That I would take far less personally.”
He squeezed her closer, tightening his arm about the small of her back. “You should not take it personally at all. This is his loss. He’s a complete dunderhead if he doesn’t see what he lost in you.”
“Really?” she breathed out just as he breathed in and he drew her scent into his lungs. His eyes closed as he relished the way she surrounded his senses. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
She was hurting. She needed comfort, Theo reminded himself. But that was not the same as actual emotion. And he’d do well not to allow his into this situation. “Sarah,” he started, attempting to compose his thoughts. “I have always wanted, and I continue to want, what is best for you.”
“Thank you,” she hugged him tight. “Thank you for everything.”
He could hardly think pressed together like this. “You’re welcome.”
“I don’t just mean those words. Though I do appreciate them. I mean for your actions this evening. For stepping in the way you did, for helping me keep my dignity. You saved me tonight from what could have been a complete disaster.”
“You don’t have to thank me. As I said, I only want what’s best for you.”
He meant those words. But he had the feeling that he should end this conversation and return to the party. Because he was beginning to think this sort of intimacy with Sarah was not what was best for him.
7
It was no doubt gratitude that had Sarah feeling so close to Everly. Well, gratitude and the fact that she was close. Very, very close.
Her cheek pressed to his chest, his heartbeat strong and even beneath her ear. Her head seemed to spin as the full force of his solid heat surrounded her, his scent wrapping around her making her feel…safe. Warm.
Home.
She shook off the thought and forced herself to pull away, even though she was fairly certain she could have stayed like that all night. But this was Everly, for heaven’s sake.
She smiled up at him as she put some distance between them. His own expression was shuttered. Not cold and haughty like she was used to, but unreadable.
Yet another facet of this man she’d thought she’d known. But tonight...tonight he’d surprised her in more ways than one. With his gaze on her now, she found it difficult to remember what she ought to say, what she was expected to do.
All she really wanted to do was