As Sadie sinks onto the wooden bench in the gazebo, the delicate scent of night-blooming jasmine fills the air, mingling with the soft rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. The moonlight bathes the garden in a ghostly glow, casting long shadows that dance across the intricate latticework of the walls.
Lost in thought, Sadie's fingers trace absently along the intricate patterns of the bench, her mind consumed by the weight of Charles's revelation. She knows the expectations placed upon her as the daughter of Edward Sinclair, a man whose influence extends far beyond the confines of their mansion. Society demands adherence to its rigid rules and traditions, insisting that she marry a man like Charles Harrington.
Sadie wrestles with the demands of society when she notices that her hand is tracing the same path on her neck that Charles did only a few moments earlier.
Thinking of his lips brushing hers exhilarates and perplexes her. There is an undeniable attraction to Charles's charm, and she finds herself drawn into a whirlwind of emotions.
The pain swirling within Sadie's heart is compounded by the troubling realization of her father's role in orchestrating her potential union with Charles. A wave of anger washes over her as she mulls their lack of communication. Why would her father make such a monumental decision without even consulting her first? The very thought leaves a bitter taste in her mouth, stirring a storm of conflicting emotions.
Reflecting on her father's actions, Sadie wonders what could have been if he had only taken the time to explain his motivations to her. Perhaps she would have been more willing to entertain the idea if he had shared his reasons for advocating for the match with Charles. After all, she values her father's wisdom and guidance, and his approval means the world to her.
Yet, even as Sadie contemplates these thoughts, she doubts that would have made much of a difference. Maybe she could have described to him how much she desired to choose her partner, how in her heart she yearns for a love like he and her mother shared, a love that knows no bounds and defies all odds.
With a staunch resolve, Sadie understands she must confront her father and express her desire to marry for love rather than convenience or social status. She knows that he will listen if she shares the depth of her feelings with him, to make him understand that she refuses to sacrifice her happiness for the sake of tradition. Yet, even as she entertains the idea, a seed of doubt takes root in her mind, whispering the consequences of defying her father's wishes and risking his disappointment.
"Miss Sinclair," a faint voice whispers from the darkness.
Sadie is startled by the soft rustle of footsteps approaching the gazebo. Her breath catches as Elise enters, her presence a welcome balm to Sadie's troubled mind. Despite her inner turmoil, Sadie manages a weak smile, attempting to mask the storm raging within her.
"Elise," Sadie greets, her voice wavering. "What brings you out here?"
Elise's round brown eyes hold concern and compassion as she approaches Sadie, her steps graceful but measured. "The party is nearing an end, and your father is asking for you," she says softly, taking a seat beside Sadie.
"Yes, of course," Sadie answers without moving.
Elise allows her pinky finger to dance across the side of Sadie's dress.
Sadie's heart clenches at the sensation, and she longs to feel more. She covers her hand in Elise's and strokes the top of her fingers. Her breath quickens as she feels a craving she has never felt before. Sadie's body aches to touch Elise's, to taste her, as their tongues tangle in a forbidden, seductive dance.
Sadie releases Elise's hand when she hears her father calling for her.
"Thank you," Sadie murmurs, her voice choking with emotion. "I fear I am in need of a friend more than ever."
"I am here for whatever you want, Miss Sinclair," Elise's whisper floating on the night air.
Overcome with an emotion she cannot define, Sadie leans close to Elise, finding her lips with hers and saying, "You must call me Sadie."
Elise only replies with a soft moan as Sadie's tongue slinks into her waiting parted lips.
The night air surrounds them as if their passion brings the world to life. Sadie brings her hands to Elise's delicate neck and gently traces the curves.
This feels so right, Sadie thinks, as Elise's vigor increases. Their lips barely part for either to breathe and gentle moans and panting fill the air.
"Oh yes," Sadie purrs when Elise moves her lips along Sadie's neckline. "Yes, yes," she pants, never wanting Elise's lips to leave her body.
But Elise slowly moves away, her tongue licking her lush crimson-flushed lips as she stares boldly at Sadie.
"We cannot do this, Sadie," Elise pants, leaning back to adjust her bonnet.
Hearing her father call, "Sadie, it is time to say goodbye to our guests," again across the lawn, Sadie nods. Elise stands, straightens the hem of her dress, and walks down the gazebo stairs without uttering another word.
As Sadie watches Elise leave, her body yearns to feel her touch. How could she possibly marry Charles when her heart is so chaotic? Sadie knows she must speak to her father tonight before things became even more complicated.