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“Thoughts are not deeds, Lavinia,” he said. “You did nothing wrong.”
“When Martin told me about the rumours, I should have realised you would never have done such a thing, but I was thinking of myself. My own sense of guilt. It made it easier for me to believe him. I know I should have known you would never do such a thing, Sebastian. I should have looked beyond my own guilt and at least spoken to you. Written to you. But I didn’t, and now I am so sorry.”
“Yes, you should have,” he agreed. “If I’d known you had come to the hospital I would have forced my way back into your life. Insisted you see me.”
She said nothing in response, but he saw her hands tremble as she smoothed Oliver’s collar.
He sat down beside her and his son began to speak to him, babbling important sounds as if he was joining in the conversation. He was captivated, reaching out a finger for Oliver to cling to as he responded. “You should have. But you had just lost your husband and given birth to your son, and then there was me. You are a strong woman, Lavinia, but even you must have struggled.”
She gave a shaky laugh. “My life was a shambles. And Martin swooped in and took control, and I just let him.”
Sebastian put his other hand on Oliver’s head, feeling his downy soft hair. Lavinia took a quick, anxious breath.
“I have been to Patrick’s bank, and Martin will no longer be able to dip his fingers into what was never his. I am sure my mother will disown me but I don’t care. I find I don’t care nearly as much as I thought I would. All the things I believed to be important don’t seem to matter anymore, not when I know that having them means I cannot have you.”
Startled, he met her eyes.
“I love you, Sebastian, but I can understand why you may never forgive me.”
It took him a moment to take in what she had said, to see the truth in her dark eyes. It was so much more than he had ever expected.
“You love me?” he repeated.
She nodded jerkily. “I never stopped.”
His mouth curved up. “I feel the same.”
“When we could no longer meet I thought my heart would break,” she gasped. “I wish I had told you then how I felt, but . . .”
“You were in an impossible position,” he murmured, accepting the truth. “We both were.”
He reached over to tuck a strand of dark hair behind her ear. She was a little untidy again. Sebastian decided he liked her like this, vulnerable and warm and very unlike the Ice Maiden. “What do you want from me?” he asked her.
Her eyes filled with tears. “Just you.”
“Lavinia,” he began, searching for words. “I thought marrying you would be enough for me, but now I know it isn’t. As much as I love you and want you, I don’t see how we can live a lie. And it will always be a lie. Oliver is my son, and I want to tell the world he is my son. Is that selfish of me? Probably. But I can’t live the lie Patrick would have lived. I’m not him. I’m sorry if it seems as if I am setting you an unreasonable choice.”
But he was giving her a choice and now it was up to her to make that decision.
“I don’t care about that. I don’t care about any of it. I want the world to know Oliver is your son even if it means we will be outcasts from Society.” She searched his face a little desperately. “But I will understand if you do not want to be an outcast, Sebastian. We can . . . we can still see each other, and you can see Oliver, and we can go on as before.” A tear ran down her cheek and plopped onto Oliver’s skin, making his eyes go big and round with surprise.
Sebastian rubbed his thumb over her cheek, brushing away the tears that followed. She was willing to be a pariah for him and as far as Sebastian was concerned, he had never cared much for the rules of Society. He was a soldier at heart and as such he was willing to find a way to win this war.
He was about to tell her so when he heard the front door bang and his brother’s voice, followed by Megan hushing him. The idea came to him right then, and suddenly he knew what he was going to do.
“I need to speak to my brother,” he said, getting to his feet.
She looked distraught, moving as if to rise too. He knew then she was planning to leave.
“Don’t go,” he said, making it sound more like an order than a request. Adding a softer, “Please?”
With a nod she subsided back onto the sofa.
Outside Mark and Megan were close, heads together, and his brother looked up at him with startled blue eyes. “What is going on, Sebastian?”
He wanted to tell them everything but first he needed to ask his brother a favour. As he spoke Mark listened, and although at first he seemed inclined to argue, his expression changed to interest and then agreement.
“You are willing to do this?” his brother asked. “You want to do it?”
