Page 16 of The Lord's Icy Temptress
Michael leaned in, concern evident in his expression. “Perhaps you have had enough for one night, old chap,” he suggested gently.
He had always been the more patient out of the pair of friends. Michael could tolerate Reginald and his antics far better than Tristan. As the man had not been invited to join them, nor was his company wanted, Tristan was of half a mind to have him thrown out.
Reginald laughed loudly, not heeding the warning. “Nonsense! There is always room for a bit more fun,” he slurred. “Right, Lord Ashford?”
Tristan exchanged a worried look with Michael, realizing that Reginald’s behaviour might draw unwanted attention and embarrass his friend. He quickly stood up, attempting to steer Reginald away from the billiard table.
“Come on, Lord Blackwood,” Tristan said firmly, “let us get you some fresh air. You have had enough for tonight.”
Reginald wavered on his feet, but he allowed Tristan to lead him towards the exit. Michael gave him a nod of gratitude before returning his focus to the billiard game. Tristan gave his friend a pointed look that he had better not cheat while Tristan was occupied with Lord Blackwood. How taxing.
Once outside, Tristan guided Reginald to a bench and sat him down. “You really should be more careful, Reginald,” he admonished gently. “Drinking like this will not do you any good.”
Reginald pouted, his drunken demeanour momentarily replaced by a hint of sadness. “I know, I know,” he mumbled. “It is just ... everything seems to be going wrong, Tristan. I don’t know what to do.”
Tristan sighed; he had not signed up for this. He did not wish Reginald to think of him as a shoulder to lean on. He had heard enough from others that when Reginald thought he could trust you, it only meant that he would regularly ask for money. “Life can be challenging at times,” he said. “But you have to take control of your actions and choices. Blaming others will not solve anything.”
Tristan hoped that was supportive enough not to be considered rude but general enough to show that he did not wish to be involved.
He should have known better.
Reginald nodded, the weight of his troubles evident in his expression. “You are right,” he admitted, his voice tinged with remorse.
Tristan patted him on the back reassuringly, hoping that would mean he was finished with this conversation. The sooner that he could depart from Reginald, the better. “Come on, let us call you a carriage to take you home. I am certain that you can figure things out in the morning.”
Chapter 11
In the quiet solitude of her bedroom, Seraphina prepared for bed, the flickering candlelight casting a warm glow across the room. Her mind, however, was far from calm. Thoughts of Tristan Ashford lingered like shadows in the corners of her consciousness, refusing to be dismissed.
The conversation with Tristan had profoundly impacted Seraphina, and as she studied her reflection in the mirror, she saw a complexity of emotions reflected back at her. Her usual aloofness had been replaced with a hint of vulnerability, and her eyes betrayed the turmoil within her heart.
Despite her best efforts, she could not stop from recalling the way his cheek dimpled only on one side when he smiled or the comfortable way he seemed to move his body around any space he occupied. Was he aware that he tended to run his thumb over his bottom lip when he was focused intently on her? Did he do so on purpose?
Oh, she needed to snap out of it. Quickly.
Seraphina brushed a lock of raven-black hair from her forehead, her mind swirling with conflicting thoughts. On the one hand, she yearned for someone to see her beyond the facade she presented to the world, to see the true Seraphina hidden beneath the “Unattainable Rose” persona. Yet, the fear of rejection and judgement held her back, reminding her of the consequences her mother had warned her about.
Seraphina sighed, slipping out of her elegant gown and into a comfortable nightdress. He did have the most striking green eyes. The way that he seemed to cut through her words to her true meaning was unlike anything she could have anticipated. It was no wonder that he reminded her of the romantic interests she found inside her books as apparently he had read all the same ones she had.
That had to be why she was even remotely interested in him. The only reason.
At least that was what she was going to tell herself.
Adeline had likely told her mother that he had come to call on her by now. Tomorrow she was going to have to explain herself, and she was not entirely certain that she could come up with a good enough excuse for having a man in the house without her mother present. It would hurt Lilian to learn about the information second-hand, but Seraphina was not ready to share her feelings until she figured out more about them for herself.
The candle’s flame danced, casting fleeting shadows on the walls. Seraphina knew she needed to tread carefully to guard her heart from potential hurt. But there was more to her contemplation than mere fascination with his charm. Seraphina could not help wondering about the sincerity of his intentions.
She had always been cautious in matters of the heart, aware of the need to protect herself from potential harm. And yet, something about Tristan stirred a longing within her—a longing to know more, to understand the man behind the rakish reputation.
Seraphina slipped into her warm bed and blew out the flickering candle, leaving the room in darkness. She brought the fluffy bedding up to her chin and held it there. She was too awake to even shut her eyes.
His words had stirred something deep inside her—a longing to be known and understood, yet also a fear of the consequences should her true identity be revealed. What if she went to him and offered him another truth? He had given her two, after all. She did owe him, and she had no intention of being in anyone’s debt. Least of all his. What would he do if she were the one to seek him out and intrude upon his space? She rather liked the notion of turning the tables on him.
She could not help wondering how Tristan’s perception of her would change if he discovered her secret, the truth of her birth that she had guarded so fiercely. The walls she had built around herself were beginning to crumble, and in their place, she found an unexpected desire to be known and accepted for who she truly was.
Would she dare to take a step closer to Tristan, to let him in and share her true self? Or would she continue to hide behind the mask of the “Unattainable Rose,” afraid of the consequences that revealing her true lineage might bring?
As sleep eluded her once again, Seraphina knew she stood at a crossroads, and her choice would shape not only her destiny but also the fates of those around her. With a heavy heart and an uncertain mind, she closed her eyes and let the night embrace her, hoping that clarity would come with the light of a new day.
