Page 50 of The Duke’s Defiant Love

Neither of them moved. The street went on around them, indifferent, a costermonger's cart rattling past, a pair of clerks hurrying by with their heads bent together, and they stood there with the whole of London carrying on obliviously while she and Sebastian remained fixed in place, the distance between them no more than the width of a single step, close enough Sebastian could see the faint movement of her breathing.

His hand rose, slow, as though he intended to touch her face, and he felt her whole body go still, waiting. His fingers hovered a bare inch from her cheek, close enough that he could feel the warmth of her skin without the contact itself, and for one long, suspended moment neither of them breathed. Then he dropped his hand.

"A week," he said, low, rough, stepping back before either of them could undo the small, careful distance he'd just imposed. "I will not call before then. You have my word."

"Thank you." Her own voice came out more unsteady than she wanted it to, the loss of that almost-touch settling somewhere low and aching in her chest, considerably worse, she thought, than if he had simply touched her and been done with it.

She stepped toward the carriage. He caught her hand before she could climb inside. Not tightly but just enough to stop her.

She looked down at their joined hands. Then back at him.

Neither spoke.

His thumb moved once across the back of her glove.

A tiny gesture. Far too intimate for what they were pretending this was. Amelia's breath caught.

Sebastian released her.

"Goodbye, Amelia."

"Goodbye."

She climbed into the carriage. He closed the door. For several seconds, he stood there after it had begun to move. Watching her disappear.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The house on Curzon Street was quieter than usual, with no gathering scheduled that night, only a low fire in the private sitting room and the three men who knew him better than anyone else in London.

Tristan was the first to see him. He stopped halfway through pouring himself a drink.

"Good Lord."

Sebastian removed his gloves. "What?"

"You look dreadful."

Nathaniel glanced over from the sofa. "That is unusually direct."

"He appreciates honesty."

Julian looked up from the book in his hand.

"What happened?"

Sebastian crossed the room.

Tristan started to pour him a drink without being asked.

"The wedding is arranged."

The room went quiet.

"How soon?" Nathaniel asked.

"One week."

Tristan slowly lowered the bottle. "One week?"