Sebastian nodded, acknowledging the truth. “I did.”
“And I believed you. Fool that I am, in that moment, I believed you.”
“You are not—”
Her hand flew up, waving to stop him. “So I am only here for one thing, Seb, and then I will part. I was furious—bitter—for days, but I am past all of that now. Now I only need to hear the truth from you, even though I already know it. And then I will leave.”
“Brianna, Rowe is already gone.”
“I can catch up to him.”
“Bri—”
“One thing Seb, from your lips.” Her mouth went tight. “You said those things to me so I would let you touch my body, did you not?”
Sebastian blinked hard at her words. Words he was not expecting. “Brianna—no. No. Nothing of the kind.”
“But you obviously did not mean your words—that you would not disappear—so why even say them, then? Why lie? You wasted no time in leaving me.”
“Brianna, you wanted me to leave. You demanded it of me.”
“You pushed me too far, Seb, and yes, I wanted you to leave me at the stream.” Her leather-gloved hands balled into fists. “But for you to leave Notlund without a word, Seb? To humiliate me—to leave for weeks without any indication of where you went or when you would be back?”
Sebastian ran a hand through his hair. “You said you would hate me, Brianna. What was I supposed to do with that?”
“Not abandon me? Not have sex with me and then disappear?”
“No. That thought is nothing but false—that I took you by the stream had nothing to do with why I left.”
Her right fist slammed into her thigh. “Did you use me, Seb?”
“No. God, no, Bree. I married you. Do you remember that? Married you. Happily. Willingly.”
Her chest rose in a heavy breath, her words shaking. “You should not have been so stupid.”
“It was not stupid, Brianna. It was a leap of faith. A bow to fate.” He stepped closer to her. “I married you because it was what was meant to happen.”
“You like to say it was fate, Seb, but what about now, what about this?” Her arm swung wide about her. “Is it fate that you use me and then leave? You play with me for a few weeks and then disappear when it suits you?”
“No, Bree, that is not what happened and you know it.” Sebastian could not stifle his own ire. “By the stream—you wanted to hate me. You were looking for a reason—any reason—to hate me. You have been from the beginning.”
Her arms crossed over her chest and she stared at him, blue eyes narrowing. “I may have been looking for a reason to hate you, Seb, but you were looking for a reason to escape me.”
“What?”
“You ran, Seb. You pushed me too far and then ran so fast from me I did not even know what happened.”
Sebastian heaved a sigh. “I could not risk you hating me, Brianna.”
Her face went to the ceiling, her head shaking. Sebastian watched as her gaze waned from cold anger to sadness.
It took long seconds, and then her eyes dropped to him, her words creeping out, soft, barely audible. “What did you think leaving me would do?”
The sheer vulnerability in her voice startled him. He had seen snippets of it, unguarded moments when the slightest vulnerability had surfaced.
But this. This reached straight into his heart, gripping it, squeezing it, forcing him to really look at her.
Look at what his actions had done to her.
He suddenly realized that he had risked far more by actually leaving her. And he had no excuse for it.
“I do not know what I can tell you, Brianna.” He moved to stand in front of her, daring to slide his palm along the side of her jaw. “But I did not intend to hurt you. Never that.”
His voice dipped low. “I could not have you hate me, Bree. Not you.”
He watched as her body deflated, her arms dropping to her sides as she searched his face. Searched for the honesty that Lily had said she needed more than anything. Sebastian hoped against hope that she saw the trueness in his eyes.
Her head bowed. “By the stream, I should not have said…I just needed you to leave, Seb. I would have said anything to make you leave in that moment.” The light in the room made her blue eyes drift to aquamarine, to the blue of a deep swathe of sea. They ventured up to him. “You ask of me things I cannot give you. Things I cannot tell you. Things I cannot relive. You push me too far, Seb—and I do not know if I should hate you or…”
“Or what?”
She sighed, her head tilting. “You just ask too much of me Seb. I cannot visit the past.”
His hand dropped from her face. “And I do not want you to hate me, Bree.”
“I do not.” She took a deep breath, her eyes leaving his face to look around his room. Her gaze stopped at the four-post bed by the fireplace. “I missed…” She gave him a tentative glance before nodding to the bed with her head. “I missed your arm over my belly while I slept.”
“You still slept in my bed?”
She shrugged, embarrassed. “It was our deal. As was staying at Notlund—you promised me that we could stay at Notlund through the summer. But then you left.”
“I will not risk your hatred if I return?”
She shook her head. “No. Not unless you do something worthy of it.” The smallest smile touched her lips.
“Then I will return after the races tomorrow.”
A nod and she smoothed her skirt as she stepped around him. “I will be on my way, then. I am sure the duke has not made it too far.”
Sebastian threw an arm in front of her, catching her around the waist. “You are not leaving, Brianna.”
“No?”
He dropped his arm, as he could see her already bristling at his demand. “No. I want you here, if you will stay, Bree. Or if you do want to go back to Notlund with the duke, then I will accompany you to him. But I hope you will stay. There are a few more races today, and the main race—the reason I am here—is tomorrow. We can eat and walk about the festivities.”
She blinked hard at his words, a hesitant smile coming to her face. “I will stay, if I will not get in the way of your dealings here?”
The relief that swept through Sebastian was unexpected. He smiled, wanting to touch Brianna, to wrap his arms around her and carry her to the bed.
But he stayed still.
Patience, he reminded himself. That was how he was going to finally crack his way into Brianna. Patience.
“You will be the furthest thing from in the way.” He went to pick up his boots by the door, holding them up as he turned to her. “Shall we go and find ourselves food?”
Brianna nodded, her smile widening.
Sebastian returned the grin. Patience.
~~~
“Aye, ye fine lady, ye be lookin’ to see what fate has fer ye? Only three shillings fer yer palm. Five fer yer cards.”
A tiny wisp of an ancient woman, necklaces piled high and swinging upon her chest, leaned out from the back of a ruby red traveler’s wagon. Lanterns with a rainbow of colored glass hung, lit, all around her. Her grey hair trapped in long braids down to her hips, the top of her head was hidden under a red handkerchief. “Ye be a-wonderin’ ‘bout yer future, lass? I can spy it from twenty paces.”
“A fortune teller? Please, Seb, please—so delightful,” Brianna squealed. One arm already entwined in his, she wrapped herself in front of Sebastian, grabbing him as she stumbled with a skip to a stop. A skip with such gleeful abandon that he had to laugh.
One mystery solved.
Up until three hours ago, Sebastian had never seen Brianna touch alcohol—not a drop, not even the slightest sip of claret with dinner.
But a red wine-fortified blackberry punch was the only thing handy from a vendor close to the stables where they settled Moonlight. Brianna had been parched, so she had hesitantly accepted a full mug.
Sebastian knew she hadn’t eaten anything that day, for within half the mug,
Brianna was foxed.
He had stuffed several small hot pies and a turkey leg down her throat, but she had also insisted on several more filled-to-the-brim mugs of punch with them.
And with that, the answer as to why she so strictly avoided alcohol—his wife could not hold her liquor. Not even a bit.
“Please, Seb? Please?” Brianna looked up at him, and even in the darkness of the eve, he could see overblown excitement sparking her face as she hopped, both hands tugging on the lapels of his jacket.
“It will be so much fun—and she can truly tell the future—look at her—you can see it in her face. She is mystical—magical—I can almost see the spirits about her. Please, Seb? Please, please, please?”
Sebastian had a hard time keeping a straight face. He nodded. “Let us see what fortunes your palm unfolds.”
She jumped, giving him a quick peck on the cheek with a giggle, and spun to the fortune teller, bounding up the few rickety steps into the traveler’s wagon.
Sebastian followed, squeezing into the tight space behind the chair Brianna sat down in. Lit with a slew of sputtering candles, the space in the wagon glowed dimly and Sebastian had to bend slightly so his head didn’t touch the colorful strips of ribbon lining the ceiling.
He wedged himself at an angle to Brianna so he could watch her profile. The last few hours were the first time Sebastian had ever seen Brianna truly unrestrained—relaxed both in body and mind—and he didn’t want to miss a second of it. No matter that it had taken a healthy amount of spirits to make it so. He was just happy to see that this side of his wife—the one Lily had alluded to—truly did exist.
It turned out Brianna had an amazing ability to laugh quickly—with others and at herself—and to immerse herself with insatiable curiosity into all humanity had to offer. From the vendors selling meat and drink, to the acrobats, to the hawkers of ballads, to the puppet shows, to the dancing—she met everything they saw with enthusiasm, including the feverish bartering she did with a silversmith for a finely crafted bracelet she wanted for Lily.
His wife could chat as easily with a pedlar hawking wares, as she could with the business acquaintances of Sebastian’s that they passed while wandering the festivities. All of them instantly responded to Brianna’s inquisitiveness, which was followed by a genuine ability to listen with interest in all they would talk about.
Holding her palm out, the ancient fortune teller waited until Sebastian pressed the coins into it before she sat across from Brianna, leaning on the little table between them.
Brianna looked up at Sebastian, giddy with a grin as the woman took her right hand. The fortune teller examined it under the flickering candle flames, the tips of her boney fingers running paths along the lines on Brianna’s palm and then up and down each of Brianna’s fingers.
“There be somethin’ particular ye want to know ‘bout, child?” The fortune teller’s voice crackled.
Brianna shrugged, smile on her face. “No, anything you see is fine.”
She nodded, humming a scratchy tune as she studied Brianna’s palm. “Yer head and heart—strange, might strange—they struggle—war with each other. One is in charge ‘til they twist, fight. And then the other takes over.” The woman nodded, dropping her face, her nose almost touching Brianna’s wrist. “Ye are conflicted. Yer heart pulls to yer thumb, yer desires—yer head pulls to yer forefinger, your responsibilities.”
Moments passed until the fortune teller grunted, lifting her head and straightening. “Lucky child. Born under the curve of protection. Ye have known happiness. Smooth waters in yer life. But then the curve ends.”
The teller shook her head, grunting again as her fingers froze on Brianna’s palm.
“A mar—a wall. One life stopped. Disappeared.” She coughed, dropping Brianna’s right hand and grabbing her left. Her gnarled fingers ran over Brianna’s palm, and then she dropped the left hand, going back to Brianna’s right. “That be what it is. One life stopped. A new one started—they are very different, child. Yer lifeline is solid, but it be marred. There be darkness afoot. Darkness in the past. In yer future.”
Sebastian could see Brianna try to pull her hand away, but the fortune teller gripped tight, her wrinkled fingers holding Brianna in place.
Panicked, Brianna looked up to him, terror creeping into her eyes. Just as Sebastian was about to tear the woman from his wife, the fortune teller flashed her palm up, stopping his movement.
“Ye survive it child.” Her crackly voice filled the wagon. “Yer lifeline tells me that.”
Brianna’s look dropped from Sebastian to the fortune teller. “I do?”
“Yes.”
“But…but what do I become?” Brianna asked, her voice trembling.
The woman shook her head, staring at Brianna’s hand. The heavy wrinkles along her forehead scrunched, darkening the lines. It took her long seconds to answer. “Yer fate line. It leans to yer heart, to happiness, but I warn ye, child, it has not decided yet. Fate has not set her mind on a path. There be times when yer mind must rule. Then there be others when yer heart must take the lead.”
The fortune teller’s face lifted, her clear dark eyes that belittled her age, fervid, piercing Brianna. “Choose wise, child. That be what I can tell ye.”
The woman folded up Brianna’s hand, setting it onto Brianna’s lap. An awkward silence filled the wagon.
The fortune teller looked to Sebastian. “Ye be wanting a reading as well?”
Brianna glanced up at him, a wobbly smile crossing her face. “Yes, how about one for you, Seb?”
He shook his head. “I already know what my future holds, Brianna.”
Her eyes went wide at him. “You do?”
Arms crossing over his chest, he nodded.
Brianna chuckled, leaning toward the fortune teller, cupping her hand next to her mouth to shelter her words, but her whisper went impossibly loud. “He already has the gift—my husband does. He is good friends with fate.”
The fortune teller took in Sebastian, eyeing him critically from foot to head. “Aye. This one be lookin’ as if fate favors him. And maybe she does.”
The woman stood, ushering them out of the wagon. “Just be rememberin’ fate be a fickle mistress, if ye ain’t be respecting her.”
Sebastian stepped down from the wagon, grabbing Brianna around the waist and lifting her down to the ground. He inclined his head to the woman. “I will remember that, kind lady. Thank you for your time.”
“Good luck to ye both.” The woman turned from them, already searching through the throngs of people for her next client.
Sebastian kept his arm solid around Brianna’s waist as he steered them through the throngs of people down the dirt road to the Twisted Oak Tavern. Vendors and tents lined the road in every possible space, their lanterns shedding just enough light upon the crowds for people to not step on toes.
Brianna craned her face backward to the wagon, then leaned into Sebastian, her hand going to his chest as her head tilted up to him. “I had not anticipated that—it was much more creepy than fun.”
He smiled down at her. “What did you expect from an old woman in a ramshackle wagon? Did you want her to speak of butterflies?”
“That would have been nice.” She ruffled her shoulders, a shiver running through her. “I had not expected her to actually see into my being.”
Brianna lifted her hand, staring at her own palm. “It is enough to make me want to lock myself deep into Notlund castle and never come out.”
“Fate always finds a way, Bree, whether you lock yourself away from life or not.”
“Now you sound like a fortune teller.” She stepped lightly over a gnarled mess of tree roots as they squeezed past a large, immovable mass of people. She looked up at him. “Do you truly believe that, that fate will find a way?”
Sebastian took a step in front of her, stopping and turning to fully face her. His free arm joined his other around her waist. She made no motion to stop him, to wiggle from his hold. Prog
ress. A smile filled his chest. “I trusted fate to find me you. And she did. Why would I start doubting her now?”
Brianna frowned.
“No, Bree. You will not go to a dark place because an old woman in a rickety wagon scared you. You do not hide from life. Whatever it is she thinks you will survive—you will survive—that is the point. That is the butterfly you were hoping for.”
Brianna’s bottom lip slipped under her teeth. She looked up to him, her eyes somber. “But do I survive as a butterfly or become a decrepit moth? That is my worry.”
Sebastian could resist no more, and he bent, his lips meeting hers. His hand travelled up the side of her body as he moved her backward until she was tight to the tree.
His tongue slipped out, tasting her, parting her lips as he deepened the kiss. No resistance. She opened her mouth to him, her chest rising against his as her fingers came up, circling his neck and curling to find his skin beneath his cravat.
Under his hands, he could feel the worry ease from her body, feel her melt into him.
He pulled up slightly, his knuckles tracing down the side of her face. “You already are a butterfly, Bree. Nothing is going to change that.”
She opened her eyes, the glow of twinkling lanterns reflecting in the blue as she looked at him. Her fingers twitched on his neck. “I am afraid to want this life, Seb.”
“A life with me?”
She nodded. “With you. With happy. With feeling.”
“Why?”
“I do not want to have it, only to lose it.”
“I am not going to let anyone harm you, Bree.”
She closed her eyes, nodding as she inhaled. Her dark lashes cracked open to him. “Kiss me again, Seb. I do not worry when you are kissing me.”
He met her lips before her words finished, and let the night take them over.
{ Chapter 11 • Earl of Destiny }
Brianna’s eyes popped open, searching in the darkness to take in the strange place that surrounded her.
And then she felt it. Sebastian’s warm arm heavy on top of her belly. Right where it should be. Her eyes closed, the seconds of instant worry forgotten as she drifted back into the abyss.
Lord of Fates: A Complete Historical Regency Romance Series (3-Book Box Set) Page 41
