Page 69 of Scandal’s Daughter

“Would it help her to meet me, do you think?”

“My God, no!” he exclaimed, letting go of her and turning away.

“She’ll have to, sooner or later,” she said, dismayed by the vehemence of his reaction.

“Yes, of course she will,” he agreed. “But I need time to talk to her, to ... to try to make her understand.”

There was such anxiety, such obvious doubt in his voice that she knew just how unlikely he believed the possibility of her ever understanding was.

“Can you really do it, Sebastian?” she asked, terrified that he would change his mind even now. Her hands clutched at each other, the fingers twisting together as she began to fear he couldn’t face hurting his mother so badly. “Can you really tell her you’d make Lady Dalton’s daughter your duchess?”

He swung around then, and any doubts fled as he closed the distance between them and kissed her. His kiss heated her skin and set her senses on fire as desire blazed to life. She had longed for this for so long. This was what she needed to know.

Nibley had offered her security and friendship, Beau a sensual world of physical pleasure devoid of love, but this ... this was everything.

Sebastian was everything they offered and more. She liked him as fully as she loved him. She felt safe in his arms and wanted to tear the clothes from his back with a passion even Beau couldn’t have aroused, because there was nothing headier than friendship between them.

Her awareness in Sebastian’s arms seemed heightened and dulled at one and the same time. She was acutely aware of him, of the heat of his mouth, the insistent slide of his tongue as he wrapped his arms around her body and pulled her as tight as was possible without squeezing the air from her lungs.

Georgiana was aware of the weight of him, the disparity of his harder, larger body crushing her own softer frame and the urgency of his hands as they slid over her. Yet everything beyond him and his touch fell away.

The sound of the world beyond the walls of this room, the ticking of the clock on the mantle, the impropriety of kissing him with such passion in Falmouth’s home ... all of that was gone.

He released her with obvious reluctance, his breathing as harsh as her own.

“My God, Georgiana, we must marry as soon as it can be arranged,” he said, the frustration in his eyes almost comical and indeed she struggled not to laugh.

He huffed out a chagrined chuckle of his own, as she’d patently failed to disguise her amusement.

“Did I answer your question fully enough, love?” he whispered. “Do you see that we cannot be parted? I’ll face anything for this, anything at all. Wouldn’t you?”

“Yes!” she exclaimed and then stilled as an awful thought occurred to her and she felt the colour drain from her face.

“What is it?” he demanded, taking her in his arms again, clearly shocked by her sudden pallor. “What are you thinking?”

“This is how they felt,” she whispered. “Your father, my mother ... this is what drove them.”

“No,” he said, his voice implacable, his strong face full of surety. “It won’t happen to us. We are both free agents. We are hurting no one save my mother, and I will do everything in my power to make it easier for her, as will you I know. It isn’t the same, love. You know it isn’t.”

She nodded and smiled at him, trying to feel reassured by his words, but the sense of unease lingered and only grew once he had left her alone.