Sophie returned to the desk and he followed. Again he saw the writings on her desk, but this time a small list was included.
“What is this?” He picked up the paper.
“That’s nothing. Just items I was thinking of.” She dismissed it.
He looked over the list again and frowned. This was no simple list of shopping or errands. This was a list of grave concerns currently existing in this country. It was a revolutionary’s list.
He turned to her, serious and concerned. “Sophie, this is a dangerous list.”
“What do you mean?”
“This is a list containing all the reasons why France may be headed toward a revolution.”
“A revolution?!” she whispered.
“Yes. This country is in a state of great unease.” He came to her, placing the paper back on her desk.
“I’m not sure I understand. I want to educate myself, thus the reason for the list. Nothing more.”
“Sophie. I know who you are. You can’t do this.”
“What do you mean, you know who I am? That I can’t do this? I can’t educate myself?” she asked.
Sebastian placed his hands on her shoulders, feeling the warm skin and the linen shift underneath his hands.
“Sophie. I know who you are. You can’t write about these things.” He was so close she could touch his face and slide her fingers along the cheekbones. She could move her fingers through his hair and—Wait, what? she thought.
“What did you say?” Her eyes widened.
“Your secret is safe with me. I’ll tell no one. But these things,” he jerked his head to her desk, “these things could get you killed.”
She was stunned. “How did you know?” she whispered.
“About the pamphlets?” he asked.
She nodded.
“You used the same wording—marry, carry and bear—with me and then in the pamphlet. And you argue with those men and defend the words too vehemently. Then I saw your writings this morning and I knew.”
Sophie looked away. “Why do you think I could be killed? This is France, not a barbaric land.”
“Sophie, open your eyes.” His hands were suddenly sliding down her arms. “Things are happening in France.”
She heard Madame Necker’s words echo in her ear. I’m frightened. For all her juvenile pamphlets, she knew nothing of the world around her. She was merely playing dress-up.
“Madame Necker said the same thing. You and she are in agreement. I live in a world of books written by dead men,” she said softly.
He watched her face and the concern appear on it. She was dressed only in the white shift with a drawstring neckline. Her hair was falling down her back and her hazel eyes looked green, then blue in the candlelight.
“Sophie, I didn’t say those things to hurt you, only to make you see. There is a world outside books. That is all. And it can be an incredibly dangerous one.”
Their eyes met. “I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he said in a whisper.
“What could happen to me?” she asked before he leaned forward.
His lips touched hers, but it was a simple kiss. A sweet kiss. A kiss filled with longing and hope. “Sophie.” He clasped her to him. His heart thudded and began to race.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he told her in a whisper against her temple.