Page 238 of Ten Lords for the Holidays

Her sister laughed. “It’s not a puppy. Now go. I’ll save you a cup of wine.”

Brow furrowed, and a bit apprehensive, Eliana went down the hall and pushed open the library door. For a moment she saw nothing—and then Prince Sebastian stood from where he’d been seated by the bookshelves.

“Oh.” She froze, the glass doorknob cold under her hand, uncertain whether to flee or stay. It was rather a shock to have him appear so suddenly, when she’d been thinking of him all afternoon; tall and blue-eyed, his hair finally returned to its normal shade.

“Miss Eliana, I know you weren’t expecting to see me here. I beg a moment of your time, and then I’ll be going.”

The sound of his voice loosened her paralysis, and she stepped into the library, shutting the door behind her.

“Don’t go quite yet,” she said, then stared at him awkwardly.

Everything she wanted to say to him crowded into her mind at once, so that she was uncharacteristically incapable of saying anything at all.

He came to stand before her, his expression serious, and somehow that jogged the words free.

“Prince Sebastian, I must tell you—” she began.

“Miss Eliana, perhaps you’ve heard—” he said at the same time.

They both paused, looking at one another, and then he inclined his head.

“Ladies first,” he said. “Unless you prefer that I begin.”

“No need.” Her nerves trembled, and she drew in a steadying breath. “I wanted to tell you that I was wrong to have thought so poorly of you. This afternoon I had a most enlightening talk with my friend Lady Peony.”

He winced slightly at the name but said nothing.

“It’s clear to me now that I—in fact, most of London—misjudged you, and I’m sorry for it.” She swallowed, her pulse speeding. “I understand you’re leaving England, and I can’t say I blame you.”

Stay!she wanted to cry, but forced herself to silence. She would not lay the burden of her affection upon him when he was bent on leaving.

He was silent a long moment, their gazes locked. Eliana was not certain precisely what she saw in his intense blue eyes, but it made her breath catch.

“Miss Eliana,” he said at last, “I thank you for your apology, and your honesty. I owe you the same in return. Of course I knew who you were at the Midwinter Masque, though I pretended otherwise. I’d thought, due to your contempt of me, you’d be unlikely to suspect my ruse. And I think a part of me wanted to see who this golden-haired young lady was, whom all the eligible gentlemen hovered around.”

“And what did you think of her?” Eliana trembled to hear the answer.

“I should have guessed there was a reason for your popularity, Eliana. You are intelligent and witty, interesting company, loyal, beautiful, and, above all, brave.”

She gave a soft laugh. “I’m afraid of many things, I assure you.”

“Such as?” He moved closer to her.

“Drowning, as you know. Growing old alone.” She summoned her courage, imagining the fire of hope warming her from within. “Seeing the man I might come to love with all my heart leaving me, and England, forever.”

He searched her face. “I thought you never wanted to see me again.”

“I was wrong.”

One more step, and he was standing directly before her. His hands went to her waist, and she set her hands on his shoulders. He looked down at her, lips curving into a slow smile, and she was lost in a storm of emotion—gloriously, desperately. Fearlessly.

She tipped her face up to his, and their lips met, warm and urgent. All the travails and worry of the past few days were swept away by a surge of heat and love, a sense of homecoming so strong that Eliana wanted to weep with joy.

Desire flared, too, and a keen awareness of his warmth and strength, a burning curiosity about how it might feel to press their bodies together, skin to skin…

“Ahem.” Someone cleared their throat at the doorway.

Eliana jumped back to see her sister standing there, looking very much like she was trying not to smile.

---