He smiled, nodding slightly. “Yes. Too much like real life, perhaps? Man and his tragic flaw. The one that takes him down in the end.”
“Do you think we all have a tragic flaw? One that will ultimately destroy us?” Rose asked.
His eyes glittered for a second or two before he answered. “I don’t know about others, but I suspect it’s true of myself.”
“What could it possibly be?” She held her breath, feeling as if his answer was vitally important if she were to ever understand him. And she found she wanted desperately to do so.
His expression vacillated. She sensed his internal struggle—to speak the truth or not? Wasn’t that the battle one faced every day, no matter what station one was born into? How much do we show others? What makes us choose to trust someone or not?
In the end, he appeared to come to a decision—to let her inside and show her a part of himself that he did not often share. At least that’s what she presumed. “I’m a man fixated by the past. A harm inflicted upon my family that I’ve been unable to move on from. One that haunts my every moment.”
“I’m sorry,” Rose said. “Does it have to do with your mother’s downfall? Perhaps the man who caused it?”
He placed his cap back on his head, shadowing his eyes. “Something of that nature, yes. Righting a wrong is an obsession. One that makes living rather difficult.”
She drew in a sharp breath. “Like a circumstance from which a heroine cannot escape. A marriage decided upon by her father, for example.”
“Is this one you find yourself in?” Sebastian’s brow furrowed, and his eyes softened with obvious sympathy.
“My father’s forcing me into marriage with a man I hardly know. A horrible man. He’s as old as my father. If I do not do as Father asks, I’ll be sent away to God knows where. Or maybe just cast aside, locked away from my home to perish on the streets. I’ve no mother toprotect me. The staff who love me are powerless too.” To her horror, tears pricked her eyes. “So, I too, must make a choice. To succumb to his wishes or run away. But I have nowhere to go. No skills or means to take care of myself.” A tear slipped down her cheek and then another and another. Drat. How could she allow herself to cry in front of him? He had worries of his own without her begging him for attention like a spoiled child. “I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”
He whipped out his handkerchief and unfolded it and refolded it so that the side he had wiped his dirty hands on no longer showed. “Take this.”
She could have taken the hanky tucked inside her sleeve, the one embroidered with her own initials. But no. She would take his once again. Add it to her collection. She accepted it from his outstretched hand and dabbed at her wet cheeks. “But I cannot run. Of course, I can’t. My urge for survival outweighs my disgust. How pathetic.”
“Not at all, Lady Rose. We all have instincts from which we must call upon when threatened. That’s all you’re doing. I find you to be quite brave.”
“I’m not though.” Tears blurred her vision. She pressed the handkerchief against the hot flesh of her lids. “I’m weak. I’ll do what I have to do so that I can continue to live in comfort. As Father made clear to me last night, it is not for me to decide my future or to be anything but a woman on a man’s arm, planning his parties and running his household, bearing his children. And I’m supposed to be thankful for it. Count my luck and my blessings that I was born a lady instead of into a family where I would have been taught a trade or honed a skill like my staff. Isn’t that funny? I envy them. As hard as they toil, surely it would not be as bad as lying with a man who smells of dirty feet.” She giggled, feeling hysterical. “I’m sorry. I’ve said too much and embarrassed us both.”
“Not at all. You mustn’t fret.” He stepped forward, reaching out to her but snapping back his hand at the last second. His brown eyes, thecolor of dirt after a rain, flickered with emotion. First anger, then sorrow, then something so sad and helpless that she could feel it in the depths of her stomach. The muscles in his jaw tensed as if holding in the words he wished to say.
Yet she heard them anyway.
I would protect you if I could.
She echoed back his sentiment, only out loud. “I would help you if I could.”
“What would you do to help me?”
“To right whatever wrong has been done to you. If I had any power at all, I would offer it to you.”
He let out a long sigh, his eyes darkening as they stared unflinchingly into hers. “Lady Rose, I quite believe you would. Alas, it cannot be done. We are twins in this way—powerless to decide our own fate.”
Tears spilled from her eyes once more and she spoke with abandon, feeling reckless. “I shall remember this day. Later, when I’m trapped in Baron White’s home. And his bed. I’ll take comfort, knowing someone has understood me so very well.”
“My mother used to say that one must never lose faith, even when the barriers to our happiness are stacked so thick and high they seem insurmountable. Can we agree on this anyway? To believe. To have hope?”
“For now, I suppose it’s the only option afforded us,” Rose said, patting away the new tears that flowed from her eyes.
“Tell me. What made you choose this play?” Sebastian patted the book he’d placed in his tool belt.
“It seems silly now, but I shall tell you anyway. The ball we’re planning—I thought at first it was because it represents the beauty and magic of a fleeting summer night. But in hindsight, I suppose I wanted, for one night, to step into a world where love isn’t dictated by duty. Where people follow their hearts. The lovers in the play are all at themercy of forces outside of their control, yet it all works out in the end. They find true love. As you say, the comedies are decidedly better than the tragedies. Even if they are completely unrealistic.”
“We have our books, Lady Rose. They’ll never cease to be a comfort.”
She smiled, wiping her eyes one last time. “Yes, this is true. Whatever happens, we can escape into them and forget our problems for a moment or two.”
He patted his tool belt where the book lay hidden. “Thank you for this.”
