This strained reserve between them didn’t feel right, either. Not when he’d held her so tenderly, or made love to her with such raw passion. The things he’d made her feel . . . the words they’d said . . .
“Fredericks is a good man,” Sebastian said. “He cares for you.”
She blinked, momentarily stunned by the idea that Sebastian somehow knew of Mason’s proposal. But that couldn’t be possible. “He is good.”
“Circumstances have changed between you and me.” The way he spoke, its excessive formality, scraped along her nerves. “Last night, I acted from impulse without considering the repercussions.”
A wave of cold sheeted through her at his phrasing. “There were two of us in that barn.”
He nodded stiffly. “So there were. Neither of us were thinking very clearly, and—” He shook his head. “I’ll be plain.”
“Yes, do.”
“I’m not a gentleman by birth, and it will be judged a mésalliance, but . . .” He cleared his throat. “I will marry you. If that’s what you desire.”
She stared at him. She hadn’t permitted herself to think what it might be like to receive an offer of marriage from anyone, and here she’d received two in one day.
Though she’d never spent much time fantasizing about someone asking her for her hand—she’d actually have to have a suitor for that to happen—this was not how she’d hoped Sebastian might propose to her.
“Mason asked me to marry him,” she blurted.
Sebastian stilled, then said, “Today.”
“And he wants me to accompany him on an expedition to Greenland.”
Her gaze locked on Sebastian’s face in an attempt to read him. He appeared stunned, his mouth slightly open. A flash of something that might have been sorrow appeared—but it was gone in an instant. In the time between heartbeats, his expression smoothed over.
“But that’s wonderful,” he said, smiling. “I congratulate you. You’ve achieved your objective—the plan has been a success.”
A shard of cold pierced her, and immediately after, she was entombed in ice. So. This was how it was to be. It was almost surgical, the severing of the bonds between her and Sebastian. Yet the pain wasn’t contained and clinical. It filled everything.
“It has been.” She forced her mouth to form a smile, when all she wanted to do was drop to her knees and sob brokenly.
So easily. Sebastian let her go so easily. As if he was relieved she hadn’t forced him into matrimony. That he’d escaped a terrible fate of being her husband.
“When does the expedition leave?” he asked.
“In twenty-eight days,” she said with remarkable evenness despite the fact that she’d been eviscerated.
His mouth tightened, yet he answered calmly, “Barely a month from now.” He brought his hand up, as if to adjust his spectacles, before he seemed to realize that he didn’t wear them. “I imagine you’ll be quite busy between now and then.”
Her mouth opened to tell him that she hadn’t accepted Mason’s proposal. Yet it didn’t matter. Sebastian had said nothing of regret, no hint that he might feel sadness that she’d soon depart, or that there was a very real likelihood that, if they ever did see each other again, it would be in the distant future, when she might be married to someone else.
“You’ve performed your role of admirer admirably.” Her lips felt numb. Everything had gone numb. Which perhaps was better than actually feeling the pain caused by his easy acceptance of losing her to Mason. So, like an actress speaking her lines, she said, “Thank you for that. I imagine you’ll have much to write about for your book, as well.”
He bowed, but said nothing.
“I should go.” She glanced toward the door, wanting to tear it off its hinges and go running out, howling, through the streets of London.
“Yes, of course.”
She hesitated. Was this to be it, then? She managed to restrain herself from throwing her arms around him. Instead, she stuck out her hand. “Again, my thanks.”
After a slight hesitation—as if he didn’t ever want to touch her again—he took her hand. But it wasn’t a warm enfolding of his fingers around hers. Instead, he shook her hand as if they were polite colleagues.