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“You are well prepared for the elements,” Sebastian observed, his gaze resting on Harriet.
She arched a brow. “London in December is hardly forgiving. I do not intend to spend the day as an icicle.”
He grinned, offering his arm as he escorted them to the waiting carriage. He helped Lady Wood in first, then turned to Harriet. As she placed her gloved hand in his, he felt the briefest hesitation, an unspoken awareness passing between them as they both remembered the stolen kiss in the bookshop. Then she was inside, settling into the squabs, and the moment passed.
As the carriage lurched forward, they fell into easy conversation.
“I enjoyed our book shopping,” Harriet remarked as she adjusted the folds of her cloak.
“Then Hatchards was the right place for such an endeavor,” Sebastian replied. “Have you thought of any more titles?”
“I will need novels, of course, but also travelogues. I should like to read of faraway places. Perhaps it will inspire me to venture beyond England’s shores one day.”
Sebastian’s lips curved. “Ah, so you will take to wandering at last? I seem to recall someone less than enthusiastic about my eagerness for the Grand Tour in our youth.”
Harriet’s expression softened, a flicker of something wistful passing through her eyes. “I was terribly envious of your freedoms as a young man.”
“That is one way to describe it,” he teased. “If I recall, you once declared in a fit of pique that anything beyond the borders of England was bound to be dreadfully inconvenient and full of strange customs.”
She gave a small laugh. “I was young and foolish.”
“Young, certainly,” he conceded. “But never foolish.”
A pause. A moment of quiet understanding.
Across from them, Lady Wood continued with her novel, choosing not to interrupt their exchange.
The journey continued with pleasant conversation, their discussion drifting through old memories and musings about what additional books ought to be considered essential for a proper library. The warmth of the carriage made the outside world seem distant, a fleeting unreality beyond the frosty windows.
Before long, the carriage slowed, and Sebastian glanced out to see that they had reached their destination.
The Royal Menagerie at the Tower of London had long been a fascination for the curious-minded. Though its heyday as a grand attraction had somewhat faded, it still held an air of mystique. Particularly in winter, when fewer visitors braved the cold.
Inside, the space smelled of straw and damp stone, with the sharp tang of animal musk. The echoes of distant growls and calls reverberated through the corridors, punctuated by the occasional rustle of unseen movement.
Sebastian watched as Harriet moved through the exhibits, her eyes alight with curiosity. There was something vital about her, something untamed beneath the polished veneer of her societal role. He had always known her to be a woman of intelligence and boldness, but this Harriet, this woman who had shed some of her former coquettish airs, drew him in a way he had not expected.
They paused before the lion’s enclosure, where a great beast lounged upon a raised platform, its golden eyes watching them with lazy indifference.
Harriet tilted her head, studying it. “Magnificent, is he not?”
“Indeed,” Sebastian murmured. “Proud. Regal. But dangerous if one does not understand its nature.”
Her lips curved slightly. “Are we speaking of the lion, my lord, or something else entirely?”
He met her gaze, keeping his own unreadable. “Perhaps both.”
She did not look away. The moment stretched between them, taut with something unspoken.
Then Lady Wood cleared her throat, breaking the spell. Harriet turned back to the lion, her expression shifting into something more contemplative while Sebastian exhaled slowly, adjusting his gloves.
Perhaps it was the atmosphere of the menagerie with its lingering scent of the wild, the way the air seemed thick with an ancient, primal energy … but for the first time in years, he felt as though he was standing at the edge of something unknown. Something that, despite his better judgment, he wanted to explore.
* * *
As the carriage rolled away from the Tower, the imposing stone fortress receding behind them, Harriet pressed her gloved hands against her lap, willing her emotions to settle. The Royal Menagerie had been an interesting distraction, but Sebastian’s presence beside her, so close and so warm despite the winter chill, unsettled her more than the sight of the great beasts pacing behind their iron bars.
She had expected this courtship, this playacting, to be a simple matter. A few outings, a few stolen glances, and then a graceful parting when Christmas arrived, as if they had never been more than polite acquaintances.
