Honor and Desire (Gold Sky #3) - Rebel Carter Page 0,2

August’s touch. For the first time in Seylah’s life, she was happy to be at August’s side for all to see.

That night had been startling. A realization in feelings that left Seylah bewildered about her relationship with August. Her fledgling confusion may have registered as nothing at all if August hadn’t mimicked her behavior in perfect synchronicity.

In the two weeks that led up to the dance, their easy and steadfast friendship had become strained. The conversation was stilted. No longer did they touch with easy affection, nor was it possible for the two of them to ignore the comments that dogged their every step.

It felt as if the street lights had illuminated every dark and shadowy corner of Seylah’s mind, and there was nowhere for her to turn without being confronted by thoughts of August. She swallowed hard and closed her eyes, blowing out a sigh.

It was normal for friends to think of one another, especially best friends. Things were just..nfusing right now, but it would go back to normal. She was simply nervous about the dance, nervous about dressing as she was now for the first time. She opened her eyes, taking in the image of her standing in a pale green gown that showed off her girlish figure to perfection. She smoothed her hands over the sumptuous material that was a far cry from the durable dresses she much preferred in her day-to-day life.

As was her hair, a swept up style replete with a pompadour. Such a look wasn’t conducive to horseback or field surveying. She patted at her hair nervously and forced herself to not fidget.

A lady does not fidget.

Or at least that’s what Mrs. Rosemary had advised her when she’d approached the woman for tips on how to conduct herself tonight. Her mother had also given her thoughts on fidgeting. But the former debutante had strongly advised her daughter to behave as she always did. She was under no pressure to conform to expectations, and anyone that wanted her to do so was not worthy of Seylah’s energies.

Seylah knew her mother only sought to help, but she much preferred Mrs. Rosemary’s advice on how to approach her night with August.

Forcing her hands still at her sides, Seylah gave herself a determined nod and remained still. She would not fidget. She would not do it. She would not touch her hair. She would not shove August into a doorway if presented with the opportunity.

She. Would. Not.

She was a lady.

She was still giving herself a talking to when August arrived to call on her. Her heart fluttered like a bird against her breast at the thought of him coming to call on her. Her fathers answered the door while her mother fussed over the lace of her dress with a watery smile.

“You look so grown up,” her mother whispered with misty eyes that had Seylah biting back an “Oh mama.”

She was the oldest of her siblings, all girls to their mother’s delight and fathers’ horror and chagrin. The four Wickes-Barnes’ girls, ages fourteen, twelve, ten and nine had inherited their mother’s beauty. Tan skin and abundant curls were the markers of Seylah and her sisters, as was their eyes.

All four girls were in possession of differently hued eyes. Seylah had inherited her mother’s dark brown, but the next, Delilah, had sky blue. Florence took after Will with her cool slate gaze, and then there was the youngest, Rose, whose eyes were the mirror of their grandfather’s clover green. Seylah quite liked the reminder of their family when she looked at her sisters. In each of their faces, a reminder could be found of where they came from, how beautiful their family was, and for that she was happy—they all were.

Though Seylah suspected her fathers would have been a tad happier with the presence of an older brother, August had always filled the space where a son might find himself. This proved a gift for everyone involved, considering August’s father had taken work out west when the boy was five, and had never been heard from again. It wasn’t easy to be a boy without a father, but Forrest and Will filled the roles nicely, and so quietly, that none thought to show August or his mother pity at the loss of a man that had been flaky at best.

Forrest had taught August how to skin a deer and chop wood. Will had taken care that August understood the importance of accounting as well as how to shoot a