It was all Seb could do to keep from running to Hanover Square. His legs pumped beneath him at a somewhat measured speed, though the pace was far too sedate. It was barely ten o’clock on a relatively balmy spring evening, and people and carriages continued to fill the streets of Mayfair. He’d surely attract attention to himself if he ran flat out.
Yet, God above, how he wanted to race at top velocity. He wasn’t entirely certain what had possessed him to suggest that Grace accompany him to the village. Only that it seemed right, and he wanted to share something with her. If she was willing to spend time with him, as a friend or something else, he was happy to oblige—but he expected nothing from her in exchange. This was about being with her, away from the narrow world of society.
He hurried past elegant houses and town houses, many with windows blazing as they, too, hosted large gatherings for Britain’s elite. He wove through crowds of partygoers in their finery, managing a nod here and there when someone tried to hail him.
That was still new, being the object of attention. He’d forgotten, and cursed his negligence. He could leave no footprint tonight. No one could know where he’d gone, or with whom. Bond Street had to be avoided, so he cut down an alley, and exhaled in relief when he could finally break into a run.
At last, he reached Hanover Square. And there, on the north side, stood Grace’s carriage. His already thundering pulse became the boom of cannons. Yet he forced himself to a relatively sedate stroll as he approached the vehicle. The curtains within had been drawn.
A footman waited beside the carriage, but as Seb neared, the servant opened the door.
“Give directions to Williams.” Her voice sounded breathless with exhilaration.
Seb shot a glance at the footman. “Are they—?”
“Their silence is assured.”
Seb turned to the patiently waiting footman, and relayed the route to their destination. The servant nodded, and in a low voice conveyed the directions to the coachman. With their course settled, Seb climbed into the carriage.
After smothering his envy for Fredericks, joy came tumbling out of him—anticipation of the adventure, and pleasure that this was for him and Grace.
The carriage shuddered, then rolled forward. He realized then that they were alone in a closed carriage, and sudden awareness of her filled him. The dim light from the curtained window turned her skin to soft pearl, and he could feel her breath, rising and falling, and God help him, how he wanted to kiss her. He wanted everything.
But he couldn’t have everything. He could only have this time with her because there was no doubt in his mind that Fredericks would call on her soon—and then it would all fall neatly into place. He didn’t fool himself into believing that their friendship could continue as it had. It would change irrevocably.
These moments with her were precious, fleeting. He would grip them tightly until they slipped from his fingers.
“This is mad, isn’t it,” she said and laughed. “What we’re doing?”
“Entirely.”
There was a rustle of silk as she shifted. He bit back a growl, picturing her legs beneath her skirts, before she reached across the carriage, and clasped his hand. They both wore gloves, yet the feel of her was another delicious torment.
“I’m happy,” she said, urgent. “I’m happy that if I’m to be mad, it’s with you.”
Chapter 19
As the carriage rolled to a stop, sounds of merriment rose above the wheels’ clatter. Unlike the sedate and refined ball, the music here was uninhibited and wild. A fiddle and a drum sent notes careening into the night. Raucous laughter tumbled like acrobats.
It was impossible for Grace to know what made her stomach feel tight and fluttery—the possibilities the night held, or the fact that she’d be alone with Sebastian this evening, in a place where no one knew them. As if anything that happened here was freed from consequence.
Nothing is free from consequence.
She pushed the thought from her mind.
The footman opened the door and helped her down. Sebastian also alit, and together, they took in the spectacle.
A cloudy sky obscured the stars, but torches illuminated everything. Sand-colored brick structures as well as low stone buildings formed the majority of the village, which clustered around a large grassy square. A church spire rose up beyond the high street, and ancient elms spread their branches over rooftops. It was not unlike many little settlements dotting the English countryside, with the revelry at the center of the village a timeless sight.