Her words, at first, did not mean much to him. He had also spoken with Harris earlier today - the poor man needed advice on his marriage, and Sebastian knew that he was the last person in the world to give it.
He’d sent him along to Augusta, asking him to be discreet should she agree to help, at least until the scandal of their imprisonment had faded. The man had been all too happy to keep the relationship quiet for now - surely he, too, was not so eager to advertise a connection to the Brightwaters at thismoment.
The whole conversation had not meant much to him at the time, but he could see now that it meant a great deal to Augusta. It had, in some way, turned the tide for her.
So that’s what was different about her. The shield had been set aside.
“Yes,” he said, realizing that he hadn’t spoken in far too long. “I thought perhaps you might be able to spare some time for them. I believe his wife would be the better for it.”
“As simple as that, then? You are truly going to let me do it?”
“Well, you’ve already done it, haven’t you? I don’t know all the details of your previous work, but clearly it did something. Otherwise you would not have caused such a stir.”
“And you wouldn’t be ashamed of it?”
He ought to be. He knew that. And yet, his wife was standing in his office, close enough for him to smell the rosewater from her clothing. For that, he could muster up no shame.
“The cat’s already out of the bag. We should lie low when we can, of course, but…”
He did not know how to phrase the next part. He had not even fully thought it through on his own, and thinking right now was not coming so easily.
“But what?” Augusta asked slowly, and he knew that whatever he said next would determine whether or not she picked that shield up again.
“But…I think it would be a waste if you did not practice now.”
As he said it, he felt greatly that he actually believed it, despite how painful it was to admit. After all he’d fought it, here they were.
She gave a sharp inhale, followed quickly by a sniffle that she tried to hide by clearing her throat and fiddling with her hands. Specifically, by twiddling the wedding ring on her left hand.
Now was the moment to step in, if ever there was one. He moved around the desk, coming over to her side with cautious steps, not wanting to send her running. She stayed put, offering no resistance as he rested against the desk next to her and reached a hand up, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.
He could see the moment that she realized he was going to kiss her, and to his surprise, only anticipation filled her eyes.
That was all the permission he needed to press his lips to hers. Though tense at first, she quickly yielded, even bringing her hands up his chest and lightly wrapping her fingers around the lapels of his jacket, just barely tugging him closer.
And closer he got. Wrapping his arms around her, he pressed them flush together. Augusta gave a breathless little gasp and gripped him tighter.
His insipid work could wait. The whole damn world could wait. His hands only wanted to roam his wife’s curves, only wanted to rest upon her backside and squeeze with too much force, eliciting a slight jump from her that only served to press her breasts up against his chest.
He hated the very idea of clothes. As his tongue played against her lips, he pulled and pulled at her skirts, finally rewarded with the feeling of beautiful bare skin. Her own hands roamed freely now, no longer restricted to his lapels. In fact, she’d undone the buttons of his jacket whilst he was busy with her skirts.
He tossed the coat aside - let the damn thing burn for all he cared - and his shirt went shortly after it. Each time he was forced to stop kissing his wife, it felt like an eternity.
During the tossing aside of his shirt, Augusta attempted to pull at her dress ties. Sebastian would have none of it.
“Too long,” was all his lust-addled mind could muster. She must have understood what he meant, as she dropped her hands.
In one motion he gripped her neckline and pulled, hard. Augusta gasped, but did not move to stop him. Her dress tore, allowing just enough give for him to pull it down and bare her beautiful breasts to the world.
This could end at any moment. He needed more - and now.
He moved to lift her up onto the desk, but she anticipated his intentions and did the hard work for him. He pulled her close, kissing down her jaw, savoring every soft little moan from her, reveling in the way her thighs clasped around his waist, trying to pull him closer to her entrance.
He lifted his head to plant another firm kiss to her lips.
“I love you,” he breathed.
Hands wrapping in his hair. Her kissing him back.
