Page 61 of The Duke’s Defiant Love

By the time the performance concluded, a storm had rolled in over London, rain hammering the opera house steps hard enough that the departing crowd scattered for their carriages with unusual haste. Sebastian saw Lady Henswick to her carriage, and the couple rode home together in comfortable quiet, rain streaking the windows, thunder rumbling somewhere distant over the rooftops.

At Ravensmere House, Sebastian paused at the window overlooking the garden, watching the storm with an intensity that caught her attention.

"You enjoy this," she said, coming to stand beside him. "Admit it."

"I admire the architecture of a good storm. That is a different matter entirely from enjoying it."

"That is precisely the sort of answer a man gives when he is too proud to simply say yes." She nudged his shoulder with hers. "Admit it, Sebastian."

Instead of answering, he took her hand and led her straight out the garden doors into the downpour.

She gasped as cold water struck her face.

"Sebastian!"

"You wished for an admission. I find I would rather show you instead." Her dress was already beginning to cling to her, her hair dampening around her face. Sebastian's usually immaculate coat was dark with rain. His shirt soaked through in seconds, droplets running from his hair and down his cheeks and he pulled her into something between a waltz and an undignified spin, laughing, breathless, soaked through in moments, their titles and responsibilities forgotten in the wet, dark garden.

"You are completely mad," she gasped, laughing so hard she could barely keep her feet.

"Thoroughly," he agreed, spinning her again, water flying from her skirts, "and considerably happier than I have been in years."

They stumbled more than they danced. Amelia nearly slipped, catching herself against his shoulder. Sebastian steadied her, laughing beneath his breath.

Amelia looked up at him, suddenly aware of how close they were, and Sebastian's smile faded into something softer.

Neither of them spoke. Then another shiver ran through her.

Sebastian noticed immediately.

“That is enough.”

Amelia frowned. “Enough what?”

“We're going inside. You will fall ill, and I refuse to explain to your mother how her daughter caught a chill dancing in my garden in the rain."

"You started it."

"I am ending it, which is considerably more responsible."

He took off his coat and wrapped it around her shoulders despite the fact that it was already soaked.

“Come.”

He guided her back toward the house, keeping one arm around her as they climbed the steps.

Inside, the warmth of Ravensmere surrounded them.

Sebastian immediately summoned a servant and ordered that the fires be stoked, and warm towels brought to Amelia's room.

“You need to change before you catch a chill,” he said.

He then proceeded to make her laugh all over again, soaked hair plastered to her face, entirely, foolishly happy.

By the time Amelia returned to the library in dry clothes, her hair still damp, and loosely pinned, Sebastian had built up the fire properly and ordered a tea tray that sat, on the small table between two chairs he'd drawn close to the hearth.

"You look muchwarmer," he said, glancing up from the book already open in his lap.

"I feel much more sensible than I did an hour ago, dancing in a thunderstorm."