“And just where do you think you are going? I am not finished with you yet!” Evangeline batted her eyelashes up at him and donned what she must have assumed was a demure, alluring face. His nose wrinkled in distaste as he pulled his arm forcibly from her grip and shook his head.
“But I am done with you. Do not make me tell you again. In fact, forget that we ever met; that would be best for both of us.”
“But, Trista—”
“Lord Ashford,” he reminded her sharply. “Do not address me so informally,” Tristan spat angrily. He did not wish any more delay. He had to fix things with Seraphina before all was lost.
Chapter 20
It took too long to find her.
The sinking feeling in his stomach seemed to grow further with every step. Seraphina was not on the balcony or in any of the parlours that were open to the public. Naturally, she was in the very last place that he went to look —down into the gardens themselves. When he found her, she was seated at a bench surrounded by every coloured flower imaginable to him. She did not so much as look up when he came near to her. If even the smallest semblance of doubt lingered in his mind that she had not seen the dance, that alone confirmed it.
“I have been searching everywhere for you,” Tristan breathed.
“Have you? I should think that you are quite needed elsewhere, Lord Ashford,” Seraphina said in an overly stiff, formal tone.
He scrubbed his face, unsure how best to navigate these tense waters. “There is nowhere I would rather be other than here with you.”
Slowly, Seraphina turned her head towards him, her expression more open and vulnerable than he had seen from her yet. It tugged at his heartstrings. He did not wish to make her doubt his affection for her at any cost. She looked to him for assurance, even if she did not say the words themselves.
“I assure you, Sera, there is nowhere I would rather be.” He held out a hand to her. “Take a walk with me?”
Her hands clenched and unclenched the fabric of her dress as she stared at his hand. He could see the internal battle she waged with herself as she debated whether or not to let the topic go so easily. If she did ask him about Evangeline, he would be honest, but he would prefer not to taint their present conversation with such unhappy things.
Finally, she placed her hand in his, and a wave of relief washed over him. He guided her away from the bench and into the moonlit path of the garden, where the scent of the flowers filled the air.
In the secluded moonlit garden, Tristan and Seraphina’s tension escalated as they walked and discussed Gothic novels, their bodies brushing occasionally. The moon’s soft glow highlighted Seraphina’s features, making her even more mesmerizing. The more they spoke, the deeper Tristan found himself drawn to her. He could listen to her speak for hours and never tire of the sound of her voice.
They reached a softly lit fountain, its gentle cascading water creating a soothing ambiance. As they stood side by side, Tristan could not help admiring Seraphina’s elegance and poise. The moment felt almost surreal as if they had been transported to a world of their own. She had a magical way of making even the simplest things like admiring a fountain, look beautiful.
Tristan’s fingers twitched with the urge to reach out and touch her, to explore the softness of her skin. He wanted to see if the spark of electricity he felt every time their hands brushed was as real as he imagined. He found himself captivated by her, every fibre of his being yearning to be closer to her.
Unable to resist any longer, he reached out, his fingers gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through Seraphina, her breath catching in response. Tristan could see the surprise and vulnerability in her eyes, and it mirrored his own emotions. He could not deny his intense attraction for her, an attraction that had grown far beyond the bounds of a mere bet.
He took a deep breath, deciding to be honest with her, even if it exposed his vulnerability. “Sera, there is something I must admit,” he began, his voice tinged with sincerity.
She turned to him, her expression curious and attentive. “What is it?” she asked softly.
He hesitated for a moment, trying to find the right words. “I ... I find myself drawn to you in a way I have never experienced before. It is as if I cannot get you out of my mind, no matter how hard I try. Your wit, intelligence, beauty ... they have all captivated me in a way I cannot explain.”
Seraphina’s eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, Tristan feared he had said too much, and that he had crossed a line. But then a soft blush tinted her cheeks, and she looked away, a small smile playing on her lips.
“Tristan, I ... I feel the same way,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “You have managed to surprise me in so many ways, and I cannot help being intrigued by you.”
Relief washed over him, and he felt a newfound sense of hope. “Then perhaps we should stop fighting this attraction between us and see where it leads,” he suggested, taking a step closer to her.
Seraphina’s eyes met his, her gaze steady and searching. “And if it leads to complications and heartache?” she asked, her voice tinged with vulnerability. “There is still so much that we have yet to learn about one another … what if we begin this path and then you find something you do not like?”
Tristan’s hand reached out to gently cup her cheek. “I would rather take that risk than regret never exploring what could be,” he replied, his thumb caressing her skin.
They simply stood there for a moment, their eyes locked in an unspoken understanding. The world around them faded away, leaving only the two of them in that moonlit garden, their hearts beating in sync.
As the evening breeze whispered through the trees, Seraphina finally nodded, a small smile gracing her lips. “Then I suppose we should embrace this uncertainty and see where it leads,” she said softly.
Tristan’s heart soared with joy, knowing they were both willing to take a chance on what they felt for each other. With a gentle tug, he pulled her into his arms, their bodies fitting together as if made for each other. At that moment, as they held each other beneath the moonlit sky, Tristan knew he had found something special, something worth cherishing and fighting for. And he was determined to do whatever it took to keep the flame of their newfound affection alive.
Tristan’s lips brushed against hers softly, for he could hardly believe that this dream was coming to pass. It was still surreal, even with her in his arms and the warmth of her flooding his chest. His hand lifted to cup the side of her face, his thumb sweeping along her jawline softly, reverence in his eyes for all she was before he kissed her again. Softly at first as he could feel the nervous tension melt from her shoulders as she sighed into the contact.
