She nodded, still biting her lip as if preventing herself from saying anything more.
He reached out until he was cupping her upper arms. Something inside of him relaxed at the contact. He hadn’t realized he’d been growing more and more tense by the second without this connection. “Tell me what it is.”
She blinked in surprise again, and he’d admit that he’d surprised himself with his serious tone of voice. But for her, he could be serious. He could be whatever she needed him to be. “Sally, I…” He glanced toward the door which he’d left open for propriety’s sake but which now merely reminded him of all the dratted guests who roamed the halls. “Just for a moment,” he told her as he moved to the door and shut it.
“Sebastian,” she hissed. Alarm filled her eyes and he relented.
“Oh very well.” He opened it again before moving to her and lowering his voice. “Whatever is troubling you, I need you to know that you can rely on me. You can trust me.”
“I know that,” she whispered.
Now it was his turn to blink in surprise. “You do?”
Oh good grief. His heart was hammering in his chest as if they’d just run a race.
“Of course I do,” she said. “You’re my friend.”
The word hung between them, heavy and...wrong. Friend? Yes. That’s what he’d told her. It was what he’d been attempting to tell himself from the first moment they’d spoken. That they could be friends. That friendship would be enough.
But now he knew… He’d been wrong. He’d been so very wrong. Whatever this was he felt toward her, it was not friendship. At least, not entirely.
“Is that all we are?” he asked.
He heard her breathing and his own in the otherwise silent room. She glanced toward the door and then back again. “It’s all we can be.”
He frowned. “By what law?”
Her answering frown, he’d admit, was far more fearsome. “By the laws of society, Sebastian.”
“Sally, you are a captain’s daughter. You’ve been gently bred and—”
“I’ve been oddly bred, you mean,” she muttered.
He shook his head. “This is not so very far a stretch.”
“Isn’t it?” He couldn’t understand the pained look in her eyes. “Sebastian, my family is not… That is, I love my family.”
“Of course you do, I love them too,” he said resolutely. At her stare, he added, “From what I know of them.”
Her lips twitched but she gave her head a shake. “But you do not know the whole truth.” She frowned again, a line forming between her brows. “I’m not even sure I know the extent of it.”
“The extent of what?” A strange panicky sensation was forming in the face of her vague responses and whatever secrets she was keeping. But one look at her set chin and he knew she wasn’t going to tell him anything more.
“I need to get back to them,” she said. “Rebecca and I will leave the day after tomorrow. I promised Rebecca we would stay for the ball.”
His stomach felt as though it was dropping, dropping, dropping. This falling sensation would not cease and he found his gentle grip on her arms tightening a bit as if she might keep him upright.
As if he might make her stay.
He swallowed hard as he dropped his hands. “So soon? But I thought—”
“Dr. Roberts will be arriving shortly after we depart. Your father will be in good hands.”
“My father…” He drew in a deep breath to try and calm this sensation that made him want to rage and shout. What had happened? Only two days ago they’d been the closest of friends, running and laughing and talking and…
It was a friendship unlike any he’d ever known. It was a friendship, yes, but also something so much more. Being apart from her these past few days had made it alarmingly clear that being without her was not an option. She wasn’t just a friend who made him laugh and shared his confidences. Without her, he was adrift. And when she was by his side, the world made sense. His place in it was clear.
For his place? It was by her side.
Did she not feel it too? They’d only shared one kiss, but surely she had felt the connection. And every time they laughed and teased and talked...she had to feel it too.
He stared until her pained expression turned stoic and resolute.
Or perhaps she did not feel it. The thought made his heart take a nosedive toward the ground. Perhaps this affection was unrequited.
“They need me, Sebastian.”
“I need you, as well.” He clamped his mouth shut as her eyes widened in surprise, at the words and the intensity of them, no doubt. “That is…” He cleared his throat. “I am sorry that you are concerned for your family, and I understand that you need to go back but—” Promise me you’ll return. Promise that it won’t be forever.
The ferocity of his feeling left him stunned and stupid. The overwhelming sense of loss at the thought of a future without her left him reeling.
“But what, Sebastian?” Her voice was gentle. Kind. He wondered how much of his inner battle she could read in his eyes.
But what? What was he asking?
“Dance with me,” he blurted.
She blinked once. Twice. “What?”
“Dance with me,” he said again, stronger this time. He pulled her into his arms easily and took her hand in his, pretending not to notice that she was not going along with this at all.
And why should she? This was a ridiculous plan. It was panic that had him gripping her tight. Uncertainty and confusion that left him tongue-tied and unable to say what he knew he ought. The only words that might make her stay, or promise to return, at the very least.
Instead, he said once more, “Dance with me.”
Her brow crinkled in confusion. “Why?”
“Because I promised you a dance lesson.”
She went to pull away but with no real strength. “Sebastian, you’re being ridiculous. I don’t need dance lessons.”
“Your sister assures me that you do.
