The Debutante (Season Series #2)

Chapter 15: A Confession

Brenna and Elspeth had silently helped me out of my opera outfit and into my nightclothes. I'd refused to crawl into bed, so they'd left me in the sitting room, a single candle burning and a mug of untouched tea cooling between my fingers. My eyes were heavy from crying, a pile of used handkerchiefs on the table beside me.

I hated myself for crying over a man. A year ago, I'd have kicked myself for behaving like all the simpering fools at school that dissolved into tears after reading love poems. But now, something was different. I'd never cared for anyone before, besides my brother, so thumbing my nose at authority and doing as I pleased carried few consequences. Now, I cared about someone else and the sheer weight of that realization had been enough to dry my tears and replace them with dread.

I loved him.

There was no other explanation for why something as ridiculous as him holding someone else's hand could so thoroughly ruin an evening. It was the reason that I'd felt embarrassment instead of pure anger when Dulciana had slighted me. If I didn't love him, I'd have been mad at her for being such a cow, but I wouldn't have felt so mortified that she'd done it in front of him. If I didn't love him, I wouldn't have spent the carriage ride home in tears, replaying the whole, miserable evening in my head.

Most of all, if I didn't love him, I wouldn't be sitting awake, terrified of what that implied.

The moment the thought had crept into my head, it had been as if a weight had been lifted all while the floor dropped out from beneath me. Of course I loved him. Thoughts of the masquerade, Audra's workshop, and the little library paraded through my head and I wondered how I hadn't realized it sooner. But creeping in from the edges of my thoughts were all those doubts, twisting into even darker things as Georgina's words echoed loud and clear in my mind.

You'd have to sit over there with them and keep a perpetual smile on your face...

I loved him, but maintaining a pleasant facade while surrounded by vipers who sought to supplant me would be the price. I would have to behave myself, no matter what snubs or insults were flung my way or how badly I wanted to retaliate. I would have to face the queen's disapproving gaze day after day while she wondered why her son had chosen a black sheep like me instead of a prize like Adelaide.

Then there was the question of whether Andrew even wanted to publicly pursue me. I shivered, drawing my robe closer around my shoulders. Everything he said made it sound like he would, eventually. But after watching him whisper with Adelaide and seeing his fingers entwined with hers, I wasn't quite so sure anymore.

The creak of the service door snapped me from my thoughts and I exhaled a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.

"I'm fine, Brenna," I said, setting down the now cold mug of tea, "I'll put myself to bed soon, I promise. Don't wait up for me."

She didn't say anything, so I waited for the creak of the door closing again. When it didn't come, I glanced back over my shoulder and froze.

"You've been crying," Andrew said, the pain on his face evident despite the flickering light from the dying fire. He was standing in the service door, still dressed in his opera formalwear.

"You shouldn't be here," I said, turning back around and pulling my robe closed even tighter over my nightdress. I hated that the sight of him had been enough to silence the demons in my head, to ignite that spark of hope that perhaps there was an explanation for all the horrible things that had happened tonight.

He crossed the room in a few quick strides, silently taking the seat beside me. I forced myself to lean away from him when all I wanted was for him to hold me, the tears building behind my eyes once again.