lady,” he said, patting the place in his coat where the book sat.
“Another gift?”
“Another?”
“Was not the flower you pilfered last night your first offering? Did you steal this gift, too?”
Sebastien stared at her lips, enjoying the soft lilt of her voice and the fiery spark that glinted in her eyes. There was so much more to Lady Maxwell Thornton than he’d given her credit for. He might add fascinating to her list of other appealing qualities. The fact that she felt comfortable enough to tease him was a telling sign that he was well on his way to gaining her approval.
“This one does belong to another, but it just so happens that it is mine and that I’m giving it to you.”
She raised a brow. “Was it yours before you gave it to me, or did you have to steal it away from someone who stole it from you?”
Shock registered. Did she realize her father had stolen the relics? He had not specifically told her that bit of information.
“What is it?” she asked, suddenly concerned.
Sebastien realized too late that he’d let his guard down, his emotions showing clearly on his face. He shook his head. “’Tis nothing.”
“’Tis not nothing. If we are to be friends, which I believe we are, as you are the only person at court I can wholly tolerate, then you can confide in me. I’ll not tell another soul.”
“I am not the thief, Maxwell,” he whispered, not realizing until it was too late that he’d used her Christian name. “Let us leave it at that.”
A blush covered her high cheekbones and her kissable lips had curved into an O. “How can we leave it at that? Has someone stolen something…” Her voice trailed off and she looked away. Dawning understanding had shown in her eyes.
They reached the gardens, their feet sinking into the grass as they approached the chairs that had been set up. Jesters did cartwheels, teased courtiers and juggled balls.
“I cannot believe you,” she said.
“I will not ask you to.” Surprise tugged at him again. He damned well wanted her to believe him, but he knew asking her to think the worst about her own father was requesting too much. And yet it still stung.
They took their seats. Silence reigned thick between them and Sebastien hated it. He didn’t want her to despise him for the truth he’d uttered. He wanted to reach down and grip her hand in his, but that would not be appropriate.
Instead, he tried to work up the nerve to say something charming, to bring back that teasing glint to her eye and her enchanting smile. In the end, he didn’t have to.
“I have… often wondered,” she whispered so quietly he barely heard her. “A daughter is kept quite in the dark. Any female is told what to do at all times by a male. Their father. Their husband. Their brother. Queen Elizabeth has been an idol of mine since I can remember, because she chooses to live her life the way she wants. I suppose I’ve always wanted something like that for myself.” She flicked her gaze up to him. “The relics will be mine. There is no marriage contract, but when it’s written, for whomever it is I marry, Sebastien, I will see it recorded that the relics are mine to do with as I please. And I will give them to you.”
Sebastien remained quiet, too stunned to speak.
She was giving him an out. He no longer had to court her, because no matter what, or whom she married, she was going to put her foot down regarding the relics and then pass them on to him. He could have asked her for her word. Could have demanded she even put in writing such a generous gift so he could obtain his relics if she changed her mind. But he didn’t want to.
Because despite the fact that he’d started his quest to regain the relics for his mother, he, in fact, enjoyed his time with Max. The only prize he saw at the end of the day was Max as his wife. And it had taken until this moment, when she gave him what he thought he wanted while denying what he truly wanted— her —for him to realize
“Another gift?”
“Another?”
“Was not the flower you pilfered last night your first offering? Did you steal this gift, too?”
Sebastien stared at her lips, enjoying the soft lilt of her voice and the fiery spark that glinted in her eyes. There was so much more to Lady Maxwell Thornton than he’d given her credit for. He might add fascinating to her list of other appealing qualities. The fact that she felt comfortable enough to tease him was a telling sign that he was well on his way to gaining her approval.
“This one does belong to another, but it just so happens that it is mine and that I’m giving it to you.”
She raised a brow. “Was it yours before you gave it to me, or did you have to steal it away from someone who stole it from you?”
Shock registered. Did she realize her father had stolen the relics? He had not specifically told her that bit of information.
“What is it?” she asked, suddenly concerned.
Sebastien realized too late that he’d let his guard down, his emotions showing clearly on his face. He shook his head. “’Tis nothing.”
“’Tis not nothing. If we are to be friends, which I believe we are, as you are the only person at court I can wholly tolerate, then you can confide in me. I’ll not tell another soul.”
“I am not the thief, Maxwell,” he whispered, not realizing until it was too late that he’d used her Christian name. “Let us leave it at that.”
A blush covered her high cheekbones and her kissable lips had curved into an O. “How can we leave it at that? Has someone stolen something…” Her voice trailed off and she looked away. Dawning understanding had shown in her eyes.
They reached the gardens, their feet sinking into the grass as they approached the chairs that had been set up. Jesters did cartwheels, teased courtiers and juggled balls.
“I cannot believe you,” she said.
“I will not ask you to.” Surprise tugged at him again. He damned well wanted her to believe him, but he knew asking her to think the worst about her own father was requesting too much. And yet it still stung.
They took their seats. Silence reigned thick between them and Sebastien hated it. He didn’t want her to despise him for the truth he’d uttered. He wanted to reach down and grip her hand in his, but that would not be appropriate.
Instead, he tried to work up the nerve to say something charming, to bring back that teasing glint to her eye and her enchanting smile. In the end, he didn’t have to.
“I have… often wondered,” she whispered so quietly he barely heard her. “A daughter is kept quite in the dark. Any female is told what to do at all times by a male. Their father. Their husband. Their brother. Queen Elizabeth has been an idol of mine since I can remember, because she chooses to live her life the way she wants. I suppose I’ve always wanted something like that for myself.” She flicked her gaze up to him. “The relics will be mine. There is no marriage contract, but when it’s written, for whomever it is I marry, Sebastien, I will see it recorded that the relics are mine to do with as I please. And I will give them to you.”
Sebastien remained quiet, too stunned to speak.
She was giving him an out. He no longer had to court her, because no matter what, or whom she married, she was going to put her foot down regarding the relics and then pass them on to him. He could have asked her for her word. Could have demanded she even put in writing such a generous gift so he could obtain his relics if she changed her mind. But he didn’t want to.
Because despite the fact that he’d started his quest to regain the relics for his mother, he, in fact, enjoyed his time with Max. The only prize he saw at the end of the day was Max as his wife. And it had taken until this moment, when she gave him what he thought he wanted while denying what he truly wanted— her —for him to realize
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