Chapter 23
“I cannot believe that I forgot the kissing boughs!” Lady Evermere cried, looking around the ballroom in horror. “We must make them this morning! Isabella, Daphne, I am trusting you with this; I know you will not let me down!”
Isabella could not help finding her mother’s panic a little amusing. There was plenty of time for them to make the kissing boughs and plenty of people available to help. She and Daphne set about laying out the materials on a long table in the front parlour, then began to make the decorations.
After a little while, Felicity came in and joined them. With three of them working on it, Isabella was certain that the task would be completed before the morning was out, giving them plenty of time to get ready for the ball that evening.
“Did you know that these kind of decorations date back to the Middle Ages,” Isabella said as she began to twist the foliage together into a ring and tie a ribbon to the top of it, so it could be hung overhead.
“I did not know that,” Daphne replied. “But I am not surprised that you know it. It seems to me that you are the most knowledgeable person in the world, when it comes to history.”
“Oh, no, I am not as knowledgeable as Sebastian,” Isabella said without thinking, then felt her cheeks burning. She had called him by his Christian name out loud. Even Daphne would think that was strange. And she could tell by the way that Felicity was staring at her across the table that it had not escaped her notice either.
“Sebastian?” Daphne repeated. “Are you really so close as all that, Isabella?”
Isabella shook her head quickly. “Of course not,” she insisted. “I do not know what came over me.”
But as she turned back to the decoration she was working on, the memory of his hands on her bare skin came back to her, bringing with it powerful feelings and a tingling sensation between her legs. The way he had caressed her breasts with his hands and taken her nipple into his mouth and sucked it so gently. She had never felt pleasure like it until the moment he had looked into her eyes as he first entered her.
But a sense of desolation swept over her as she realized that she probably would never know pleasure like that again. She did not imagine for one moment that her wedding night with the duke would bring her such bliss. In fact, just thinking about it made her want to weep with frustration and disappointment that her life was now going to have to be spent with him.
She could hardly bear the thought of having to have dinner with him every night, let alone having to share a bed with him. But what could she do? Her protests to her father had fallen on deaf ears, and even her mother had made it quite clear that she expected Isabella to go through with it and marry the duke, even though she did not love him, and clearly, the duke did not love her either.
And now, here she was making decorations designed for people to kiss under. She did not even know if she would ever be able to kiss Sebastian again, to feel his soft lips against hers and the power of his passion translated through the simple movement of his mouth.
She let out a sigh.
Daphne turned to her and gave her a concerned smile. “You do not seem at all yourself this week, Isabella. I have been noticing it for a few days now, and I think your sister has noticed it, too. Are you sure you are not unwell?”
Isabella shook her head. If Felicity had not been with them, she would have felt more inclined to share her feelings with her friend, but she could tell that her cousin was listening to every word she said, even though she seemed to be distracted by making her own decorations on the other side of the table.
“I am quite alright,” Isabella replied. “I am perhaps just a little tired.”
“Well, you must ensure that you have some time to rest before the ball tonight,” Daphne said firmly. “I think perhaps you should retire to your room now and leave us to finish these decorations.” She turned to Felicity. “We can manage this between us, Felicity, can’t we?”
Felicity nodded and smiled sweetly. “Of course we can,” she said. “Go and rest, Isabella. You will want to make sure you look as beautiful as possible this evening, I’m sure.”
Isabella frowned. She did not understand how Felicity could say something, which on the surface seemed so nice but still sounded so condescending and horrible. Her jealousy and cattiness only seemed to be getting worse.
But there was nothing she could do about it, and her cousin’s behaviour was the least of her worries. She decided, though, to accept Daphne’s advice and leave them to finish the decorations. But instead of going up to her room, she resolved to walk around the garden, hoping that some fresh air would clear her head.
“I will let you finish the decorations,” she said, taking her leave from them.
Soon, she was wrapped in her cloak and standing outside in the cold winter air. The sun was shining brightly, but the cheerfulness of the weather did not match her mood.
She decided to go to the walled garden where she had stood with Sebastian and admired the statue of Eros and Psyche. Now covered in even more snow than it had been on the day they looked at it, it was still a beautiful sight to behold. She took off her gloves and brushed some snow off the marble, shivering at the coldness under her fingertips.
In an instant, she recalled the feeling of Sebastian’s fingertips tracing shapes on her skin and the moment when he had moved his hand down to the hot place between her legs and stroked that central part of her that no one had ever touched before, bringing her to an exquisite edge of pleasure.
The memory made her gasp, and then tears sprang into her eyes. Why could she not have that perfect love in her life forever? Why was there no obvious way for them to overcome the obstacles that had been placed in their way and for them to live happily together, the way that Eros and Psyche had done, after all the trials they had to go through to be together?
She allowed herself to let go and cry, her feelings spilling out at long last. She had no one to talk to, no one to share her pain with. She could not even talk to Sebastian. How could she tell him that she was about to become engaged to another man when she had given herself to him so passionately the night before?
What would he think of her when he found out at the ball tonight that she was going to marry the duke? He would think she was a terrible person, and any feelings he might have had for her would vanish forever.
She heard footsteps behind her, crunching in the snow on the grass. She whirled around and saw Sebastian standing in the entrance to the walled garden. He stared at her and looked as if he was about to speak, about to approach her.
But she held up her hand to stop him. “Please, Sebastian, do not come near me,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion. She could bear it no longer, the look of pain and confusion on his face. She knew, then, in an instant, that he felt something for her, something strong and powerful. But they could never be together, so what was the use of even speaking the words out loud?
