Caroline Wentworth was different from anyone he’d ever met, he realized as he gazed out of the carriage window. The slight throbbing between his strong thighs alerted him to the fact that he was not unaffected by her beauty—not at all.
***
As much as Sebastian had to admit that he was not unaffected by her proximity, Caroline had to admit the same. She had no idea what had possessed her to wait for him but she could not regret it.
Her body felt strangely light as she made her way to her bedchamber, her heart racing wildly in her chest. They had been so close together that she had felt like the heroine betweenone of the pages of the books she’d been devouring since her engagement had been announced.
But nothing in those pages could have prepared Caroline for the way her body reacted to Sebastian Fairchild. In fact, as she sat down on her bed, her heart was racing wildly in her chest and there was a strange slickness between her thighs.
Caroline pressed a hand to her heart and let out a shuddering breath in an attempt to calm the fluttering within her stomach. It did not work and she rose to her feet slowly. Despite the attraction she admittedly felt for her future husband, she could not be entirely happy about her impending marriage—at least not yet. With a sigh she walked out of her own bedchamber slowly, walking towards her sister’s closed door.
Beatrice was still furious with her, she knew—and though she yearned to talk to someone about the confusing feelings rising within her, she knew she couldn’t talk to her sister about it. Still, she wanted to talk to her sister about something—anything.
With a deep sigh, Caroline raised her hand and knocked on the door, her voice soft and pleading. “Beatrice? Can we talk? Please?”
Though Caroline heard muffled sounds from within, Beatrice did not answer and Caroline pressed her forehead against the wood, her heart aching. “I know you are angry and hurt… and I know you don’t believe that it was all a misunderstanding, butplease Beatrice… you are my sister and I love you. I do not want to lose you. Please don’t be angry…”
She hesitated, tears forming in her eyes. “Or be angry—be furious, yell at me, curse me, but please talk to me. Please, Beatrice.”
Still, there was no response from the other side of the door. Caroline let out a shuddering breath and blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. She felt like a traitor for liking Sebastian, for being attracted to him… although she knew that this marriage was for her sister’s sake as much as her own.
“Beatrice,” she tried again, her voice desperate. “I do not have a choice. I must marry Sebastian in order to save not only my reputation, but your own. I am doing this for both of us!”
She waited—certain that this assertion would at least elicit some reaction. When it did not, she sighed deeply before returning to her own bedchamber.
To her surprise, her mother was in her bedchamber and Caroline hovered at the door uncomfortably. The stubborn tears still stung behind her eyelids and for the first time since the ball, the countess looked at her with something other than contempt.
In fact, Caroline was quite certain that there was a hint of sympathy in her mother’s eyes.
“Beatrice will not talk to me,” she admitted softly and entered her bedchamber to take a seat next to her mother. Her mother sighed deeply at this, a frown furrowing her brows.
“I’m not surprised.”
Caroline looked away quickly, hurt by the hardness in her mother’s tone. Perhaps she was wrong about the sympathy after all, she mused. Perhaps she had not only lost her sister, but her mother as well.
The countess sighed, though, and placed a soft hand on her daughter’s knee. “Give her time,” she encouraged, and Caroline looked at her hopefully. “For now, however, you must focus on your marriage,” she insisted, and Caroline sighed.
“I suppose so,” she agreed and her mother flashed her a hesitant smile. “I spoke to him earlier and I do believe it is prudent to visit the home where you will live with your husband—the home he will inherit after your marriage. We will leave in the morning.”
With this, she left—leaving her daughter shocked and slightly curious.
To Caroline’s relief, the night passed rather quickly and she was spared any dreams. In fact, it was quite early when she joinedher mother in the carriage—on the way to what would soon be her home.
A soft smile appeared on Caroline’s face when the carriage came to a halt in front of the cottage and she noticed Sebastian’s tall figure in the garden. She supposed it made sense for them to get to know each other before the wedding.
Sebastian flashed her a charming smile and inclined his head in her mother’s direction. “Lady Lincoln, Lady Caroline,” he greeted with a smile. “Welcome.”
Geraldine nodded at him before walking to the veranda where she sat, her eyes following the betrothed pair coolly. Sebastian glanced at the countess—an obvious chaperone—before facing Caroline.
“Shall I show you the garden?”
Despite the obvious awkwardness of the situation, Caroline felt a smile forming around her lips. “I’d be delighted.”
As they walked through the garden, Caroline could not help but admire the easy way that Sebastian strolled or the way his lips curved when he smiled. As she had said to her sister a lifetime ago—he truly was handsome and though the circumstances of their marriage were far from ideal, she could not help but feel comfortable next to him.
“Here is my pride and joy in the garden,” he said as they arrived at a flowerbed. “Hollyhocks—by far the most beautiful flower here.”
“The most beautiful?” Caroline shook her head with a smile. “Certainly you are mistaken,” she challenged. “Or did you not see the roses?”
