An Acquired Taste (The Valentine Society)

Chapter Thirty-Four

M y mouth drops open. For a moment I can only stare, and then, sputtering, I ask, “In what way was that ever supposed to be clear ?”

Sebastian opens his mouth, hesitates, shuts it again. Consternation clouds his normally stony features. “You mean you truly didn’t know?”

My heart—my stupid, stupid heart—is still thumping. Part of me is desperate to walk away while I still have the willpower, but a fragile hope keeps me in place. “Know what, Sebastian?” I ask, my voice barely more than a whisper.

My own trepidation is reflected in his expression. He draws back a step, as if he means to flee. But then his expression sets and he steps forward, reaching for my hand. I let him take it.

“Amelia Burton,” he says, his tone formal and fierce all at once. “As I said, words often fail me, but that does not mean my emotions are not true. It feels as though you have awoken me from a long, long slumber, and made me see the light in the world once again. But… I am a coward, it seems. It has been so long since I cared for someone that it made me terrified of you. Because you are blinding after spending so long in the dark.” He brings my hand to his chest, pressing my palm against his sternum while his eyes search mine. “After all these years, I thought I had forgotten what sunlight felt like, but then I met you. And step by step, you have led me out of the darkness.”

I swallow hard. I can do nothing but stare at him.

“If I had lost you tonight…” His voice trails off as an expression I’ve never seen before breaks through, an open vulnerability as he reaches to cup my face. “I am so glad you wore silver.”

Finally, the realization hits me. “The silver you sent me,” I whisper. It was never Alexander. It was Sebastian looking after me, right after the incident where he nearly lost control.

His expression darkens as his thoughts follow the same path. “I never wanted you to feel unsafe again.”

“And you sent me the notebooks when I mentioned to Ellen that I was writing,” I say, beginning to understand. “New pillows when I said I couldn’t sleep. Soup when I claimed I was sick…”

I look back over our six months together with my newfound understanding of Sebastian. He’s been paying attention to me from afar all of this time. Sending me affection in the only way he could manage, even when he was too afraid to be physically near me.

That book of poetry—that’s right. He read one of them aloud to me in Latin, that night at the Celeste ball.

I stare at him, trying to wrap my head around everything.

“I wanted to give you space after what happened,” he says, searching my expression. “But I was constantly asking the staff about you, trying to find ways to make you comfortable and happy. Yet I… I am beginning to understand that I have treated you even more poorly than I comprehended, to make you doubt me so.” He stops, shakes his head. “That is no one’s fault but my own. If you choose to walk away from me, I will not hold it against you. But before that happens… I want you to know that I love you. Not because of your blood, nor because you have the tiniest bits in common with my past valentine, but because of who you are. Because you are smart and compassionate and stubborn enough to have wormed your way into my long-sleeping heart. Because you embrace your feelings in a way I have always wished I could. Because you make me want to be a better man to prove myself worthy of you. Because, Amelia, you are truly and wholly like none other I have encountered in over two centuries on this earth.”

When he finally stops, it’s as if the world is holding its breath.

Part of me wants to kiss him. Part of me wants to grab him by the collar and shake him. How could he be this goddamn obtuse, and why would he wait until now to tell me how he feels? Now, after six months of living in some kind of agonized limbo, not understanding why he was so hot and cold, forced to come up with my own outlandish reasoning for his behavior just to cope with it. Now, when I finally decided I could let him go, he decides it’s time to be honest?

What if I accept him at his word, just to travel back to his estate and be trapped there in seclusion for another year? I don’t think I can take it. I am scared, so scared, that I am just being manipulated again.

And yet… and yet, when I look into his eyes, I recognize the same hopeful agony that I have been experiencing. Far too often his emotions have seemed completely closed off to me, but now he wears them openly.

My heart tells me that this is true. It wants me to choose him. Can I trust it this time? Because this is not about trusting him; it is about whether or not I trust myself, and my feelings. Whether I can put aside the hurt of Declan pushing me aside, and Alexander’s deceit, and all of my insecurities, and let myself be vulnerable once more.

I hesitate, and Sebastian’s face falls. He lets my fingers slip from his cold grip. “I am too late,” he says. “I see. I have been a fool, and for that I will never forgive myself, so it is not fair of me to ask you to forgive me either. I will respect your decision, as I said before. I… You must have come here to find a new patron, and I’ve been…”

I step forward, lifting my hand to touch his face. “Sebastian,” I say. It hurts to listen to his stream of consciousness like that, especially once I realize how much it sounds like my own inner dialogue. Both of us have fallen victim to our insecurities and fears. I look him in the eyes, making sure he’s listening to me, and tap my finger against the black heart pinned to my chest. “I came here for you.”

Uncertainly flickers across his expression. “How did you know I would be here?”

“I didn’t. But I realized it didn’t matter.”

He tilts his head, waiting for an explanation.

“I remembered… the last time we attended a ball, you said you did it for me. Because that’s what you thought I wanted. So I knew if you wanted to talk to me, you would be here.” I search his face. He’s still hard to read, but I know now to look for the slightest softening of his eyes, the faintest twitch of his lips. I see his emotions now. I see him. “And you did, didn’t you? You came because you thought this was where I’d be.”

“Yes,” he says.

I smile, though there’s a tinge of sadness. “I almost missed it, you know. I had to rush here. Because I was at the estate, where I thought you would be.”

He blinks. “Oh. That… would have been unfortunate.”

“Yes.” I sigh. “This would’ve been easier if you had a phone, you know. Or…” I bite the inside of my cheek. “Or if either of us were better at communicating.”

“I am aware that is not my strong suit,” he admits. “I… didn’t realize how badly it affected you until I read your blog.” His eyes shift downward, and shame floods his expression. “I know an apology won’t fix this, but again: I am so sorry.”

“And I’m sorry, again, for putting that online without your permission,” I say. “We’ve both made mistakes, I think. And plenty of assumptions, too.” Again, I’m struck by what fools we have been. And yet… despite it all… we are both here, out of a desire to make this work. I know it won’t be easy, but the worthwhile things in life never are.

I run my thumb over his cheekbone, and he leans into my touch, his expression soft and vulnerable as he looks down at me. “But I’m beginning to realize we may be more alike than we think. And maybe that’s been part of the problem all along. And also part of why…” I smile, drawing closer to him and pressing myself against his chest. His arm slides around me. “I’ve fallen in love with you, Sebastian de Celeste.”

His eyes widen. “You have?” He sounds almost disbelieving. Amazed. It makes warmth unfurl in my chest.

“Yes.” I stand on my tiptoes and press my lips to his, in a kiss as brief and gentle as a flutter of butterfly wings. He kisses me back, slow and tender. I pull back enough to whisper, “I love you, Sebastian.” And then I kiss him again, and again, and again, until I am sure he believes it.