Sweet Love of Mine

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Three

In her chambers later that evening, sleep eluded her.

She had been staring out her window which looked down upon the street for the last three hours. Sebastian had not yet returned.

It did not seem likely that he would that evening, either.

A crisp breeze touched her skin, sighing lazily through a slit she had pushed open in an attempt to better hear the approach of a carriage or coach as it wound through the streets towards Weatherly House. Although occasionally there had been some movement from below as people made their nightly appointments, now there was none.

The silence was unnerving and complimented the heavy shadows that appeared almost cloyingly thick tonight. A few heavy banks of dark cloud covered a crescent of moon, employing even more blankets of dark to linger over the street.

Emily inhaled resignedly and rubbed the tops of her arms, easing some of the chill that had settled there despite the cotton that covered them. Momentarily relinquishing her vigil at the window, she traipsed to the end of her bed where she had discarded her robe earlier and donned it, cinching it closed at her waist.

It was difficult to ignore the aching disappoint that was left in her heart when she came to the conclusion that she would indeed not be seeing Sebastian tonight. Longingly, she squeezed her eyes shut and conjured his beloved face into her mind’s eye; a memory from the last time she had seen him.

She had caught him about to depart three days prior in the hallway, shucking into a dark coat. “You’re going somewhere?” she asked, noting the valise being carried out by a footman.

He turned to her where she poised on the stairs, one hand resting lightly against the bannister. She staved off the longing to move closer to him and let his warmth seep into her skin. He, it seemed, made no move towards her either. “Yes,” he said at length. “A dispute has arisen between tenants and I have to take matters into hand. I have ensured you have sufficient protection in my absence.” He paused, apparently expecting something of a response from her.

“Oh, uh. Thank you,” she mumbled dully. Disappointment was numbing her mind, speech nimbly escaping the muscles of her tongue.

“Don’t leave the house,” he told her sternly.

A weary sigh escaped her. “I know.”

“Let Sophie know where you are and what you are doing-”

“In the house?” A crooked smile crept onto her face.

“Em-”

“I know, I know,” she assured him quickly. “I’ll be good, promise. Will you be gone long?”

“Three days,” he said. “I’ll be back on the evening of the third.”

“Oh.” Awkwardly, she dropped her hand and folded it before her, lowering her gaze to the toes of his polished black boots. He moved, one step closer to her.

“Emily.” At the sound of his voice, she raised her eyes to his, touched by the solemnity she witnessed there. “Is there any chance that when I return, you will be able to tell me that you are ready?”

Lord, she wanted to step into his arms and bury her face against his hard chest. She wanted to feel those arms around her, holding her close and taking away her concerns, eradicating her fears. Instead, she blinked at him, the words moulding to her lips and sticking to the top of her palate. She opened her mouth, and then closed it again, before finally giving him a little shrug. “I-I can’t say,” she murmured plaintively.