the countryside, her gaze lingered on the green hills and hedgerows with the wistful appreciation of one who must soon leave them.
Almost before she knew it, she found herself turning off the road onto the winding, wooded lane that led up to Stanhope Court. As she rounded the first bend in the lane, she startled at the sight of Sebastian riding toward her.
He seemed equally surprised to see her. His horse whinnied and reared slightly when he reined it to an abrupt halt.
“Miss Beaton.” The viscount swept off his hat and bentlow in his saddle. “You must have divined my thoughts. I was on my way to call on you and give you…these.”
Juggling the reins and his hat, he freed one hand to extend a colorful nosegay of garden flowers. “And to offer my apology for the rude manner in which I rebuffed your kindly meant advice yesterday.”
Rebecca leaned forward to accept the flowers. It was impossible to negotiate the transfer without her gloved hand brushing against Sebastian’s. Even with the double barrier of leather between them, a sweet whisper of sensation fluttered up her arm when they made contact. Much as she would miss the Cotswold and Rose Grange, she feared she would miss the viscount’s stimulating companionship even more.
She had fought her growing feelings for him, knowing nothing could come of them but disappointment and fruitless yearning. Yet her heart had refused to heed reason. Every time they parted company, she felt a deepening void in her life. Every time they met again, a powerful rush of joy engulfed her. She knew there was no longer any sense hoping for a poor curate or a kindly widower to make her an offer of marriage. She could not wed any other man when her heart belonged to one she could never have.
“They’re beautiful, thank you.” She lifted the flowers to inhale their fresh, sweet fragrance…and to hide her eyes so Sebastian would not glimpse the ache of longing in them and guess her feelings. “But you owe me no apology. What you said was true. I have no right to lecture you or anyone else about forgiveness.”
“Perhaps not.” Sebastian turned his horse and urged it forward at a leisurely walk, while Rebecca’s mount fell in step. “But I know you meant well and some of what you said made an impression on me. Even if it had not, I had no callto speak to you as I did. My only defense is that anything to do with my marriage is a very sore subject with me.”
“I understand.” Pleasant as it was to ride at his side, Rebecca wished they were on foot so she might cling to his arm.
Sebastian gave a wry chuckle. “And that is the beginning of forgiveness?”
She risked a glance at him and a smile. “I believe so. You understand that I meant well, which made it easier to excuse me for meddling where I had no right.”
“Was that why you came here?” An unaccustomed glint of levity twinkled in his eyes. “So we might argue over who was more to blame?”
“Not entirely.” Rebecca recalled the reason for her visit. “I also came to warn you that your opposition to their engagement is what has put Hermione and your brother in such haste to wed.”
She repeated what Claude Stanhope had told Hermione. “I believe it is vital that they not rush into marriage. They need more time for the bond between them to ripen before they are joined for a lifetime.”
“Does this mean you and I are on the same side now?” Reining his horse to a stop in front of the house, Sebastian swiftly dismounted then came to help Rebecca down. “We make much better allies than we do opponents.”
She gave a little gasp when he clasped her carefully around the waist and lowered her to the ground with effortless strength. “I think we have always been allies in desiring the happiness of those we hold dear.”
For a quiet, drawn-out moment, they stood with his hands around her waist and hers raised to his shoulders. It would have taken only the slightest adjustment for their present stance to
Almost before she knew it, she found herself turning off the road onto the winding, wooded lane that led up to Stanhope Court. As she rounded the first bend in the lane, she startled at the sight of Sebastian riding toward her.
He seemed equally surprised to see her. His horse whinnied and reared slightly when he reined it to an abrupt halt.
“Miss Beaton.” The viscount swept off his hat and bentlow in his saddle. “You must have divined my thoughts. I was on my way to call on you and give you…these.”
Juggling the reins and his hat, he freed one hand to extend a colorful nosegay of garden flowers. “And to offer my apology for the rude manner in which I rebuffed your kindly meant advice yesterday.”
Rebecca leaned forward to accept the flowers. It was impossible to negotiate the transfer without her gloved hand brushing against Sebastian’s. Even with the double barrier of leather between them, a sweet whisper of sensation fluttered up her arm when they made contact. Much as she would miss the Cotswold and Rose Grange, she feared she would miss the viscount’s stimulating companionship even more.
She had fought her growing feelings for him, knowing nothing could come of them but disappointment and fruitless yearning. Yet her heart had refused to heed reason. Every time they parted company, she felt a deepening void in her life. Every time they met again, a powerful rush of joy engulfed her. She knew there was no longer any sense hoping for a poor curate or a kindly widower to make her an offer of marriage. She could not wed any other man when her heart belonged to one she could never have.
“They’re beautiful, thank you.” She lifted the flowers to inhale their fresh, sweet fragrance…and to hide her eyes so Sebastian would not glimpse the ache of longing in them and guess her feelings. “But you owe me no apology. What you said was true. I have no right to lecture you or anyone else about forgiveness.”
“Perhaps not.” Sebastian turned his horse and urged it forward at a leisurely walk, while Rebecca’s mount fell in step. “But I know you meant well and some of what you said made an impression on me. Even if it had not, I had no callto speak to you as I did. My only defense is that anything to do with my marriage is a very sore subject with me.”
“I understand.” Pleasant as it was to ride at his side, Rebecca wished they were on foot so she might cling to his arm.
Sebastian gave a wry chuckle. “And that is the beginning of forgiveness?”
She risked a glance at him and a smile. “I believe so. You understand that I meant well, which made it easier to excuse me for meddling where I had no right.”
“Was that why you came here?” An unaccustomed glint of levity twinkled in his eyes. “So we might argue over who was more to blame?”
“Not entirely.” Rebecca recalled the reason for her visit. “I also came to warn you that your opposition to their engagement is what has put Hermione and your brother in such haste to wed.”
She repeated what Claude Stanhope had told Hermione. “I believe it is vital that they not rush into marriage. They need more time for the bond between them to ripen before they are joined for a lifetime.”
“Does this mean you and I are on the same side now?” Reining his horse to a stop in front of the house, Sebastian swiftly dismounted then came to help Rebecca down. “We make much better allies than we do opponents.”
She gave a little gasp when he clasped her carefully around the waist and lowered her to the ground with effortless strength. “I think we have always been allies in desiring the happiness of those we hold dear.”
For a quiet, drawn-out moment, they stood with his hands around her waist and hers raised to his shoulders. It would have taken only the slightest adjustment for their present stance to
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