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“That sounds remarkably like an offer.” She slanted him an upward glance of amusement.
“That doesn’t sound like a refusal,” Sebastian countered and let her lead the way across the darkened living room to the oak staircase.
“Rein in the horses, Charlie,” Laura admonished him. “Right now I think a hot shower will provide all the warming up I need.”
“If you should change your mind, you do know where my room is,” he said, following her up the stairs. “And the name is Sebastian.”
“My mistake, and I do know where you’re sleeping. But it isn’t in my bed.”
“Perhaps another night,” he suggested and accompanied Laura to her bedroom door.
Turning, she put her back to it. “I doubt you’ll be staying that long.”
“You might be surprised.” He leaned a hand on the doorjamb near her head. “I enjoyed our moonlight excursion immensely.”
As he dipped his head toward hers, Laura turned the doorknob and backed into her bedroom, eluding his kiss. “Good night.” Her eyes laughed at him as she closed the door.
Sebastian remained where he was, and waited. In mere seconds the door was jerked open, and a stunned Laura faced him. “The portrait,” she began and threw a quick glance at the painting propped on a chair in her bedroom, as if to confirm it was still there. “How . . . When . . . ?”
It was the first time he’d known her to be at a loss for words. “I didn’t spend the entire time after dinner on the phone with Helen.”
“But . . . why?” Confusion clouded her expression, along with a certain wariness.
“I should think it’s obvious; I wanted you to have it,” Sebastian replied easily. “After all, Lady Elaine was never an ancestor of mine, while it seems quite likely that you are related to her.”
Turning, Laura moved out of the doorway and walked back to the chair with the painting. “But it’s always hung in Crawford Hall.”
Sebastian let his hand fall from the doorjamb and wandered into the room behind her. “It would have ultimately fallen to the gavel, as Crawford Hall will, along with the bulk of its contents. Rather than have that happen, I prefer to give it to you as a memento of your visit to England.”
“You said it had little value. Surely you could have kept it.” Her gaze studied him, alert to any change in his expression, no matter how small or brief.
“I have no need for a portrait to remind me of you.” A wry smile curved his mouth. “Forgive me for sounding maudlin, but you have haunted my mind since the day you left Crawford Hall. It came as a bit of a start to realize that I had fallen in love with you.”
Amused, Laura cocked her head. “You don’t really expect me to believe that, do you?”
Sebastian chuckled. “Ever the skeptic, aren’t you? I would have an easier time of it if your name was Smith or Brown and your bank balance no better than mine. Ironic, isn’t it? Initially I pursued you for your wealth, and now I wish you didn’t possess it.”
“You are a smooth one, Sebastian.” There was a trace of admiration in her chiding tone.
“Naturally. That’s why you find me so irresistible. In fact, I suspect you’re more than a little in love with me right now.” Standing less than an arm’s length from her, he raised his hand and traced the curve of her cheek with his fingertips. Her skin tingled from the featherlight contact.
“Maybe a little,” Laura conceded, honest with herself and him. “You are always so full of surprises. But I am not about to marry you.”
“Boone is a much safer matrimonial choice, isn’t he? He has money, while I am a . . . poor risk, shall we say?” Sebastian remarked, eyes twinkling.
She laughed. “An extremely poor risk.”
“But our life together would never be dull. I doubt the same could be said of a life with Boone.”
“Just the same, he suits me.”
“Not as well as I do,” Sebastian countered, then paused. “I have a proposition for you.”
“I can hardly wait to hear this,” Laura mocked.
“Return his ring, marry me, and keep your money.”
His words brought a little surge of hope, but Laura quickly saw through them.
