by Cheryl Holt
Gertrude instantly appeared to intercept him. Obviously, she’d noted his shabby garments and had realized trouble might be brewing.
“Nathan!” She beamed a fake smile. “We’re so delighted you could come.”
She tried to spin him around as if she’d shuffle him out before a dire incident could occur, but he shook her off and said, “I’m here to talk to your son. He and I have an important topic to address.”
Gertrude’s smile faded. “We won’t address it in this parlor. Let me show you to a quiet room, and the two of you can chat there.”
“No.”
Gertrude furiously warned, “You will not make a scene, Nathan Blake. I forbid it! This is Sebastian’s betrothal supper, and you will behave yourself or you will leave!”
Lord Selby frowned. “He’s betrothing himself? I don’t think so.”
“Of course it’s happening,” Gertrude insisted. “He’s been promised to Veronica for years—you know that—and it’s about to become official.”
“From what I recently discovered about Miss Gordon, he probably deserves her, but he’s not proceeding with her.”
Veronica might have protested his awful comment, but Sebastian pushed through the crowd.
He was grinning, looking as if he was elated to see the imperious oaf, but it was clear the sentiment wasn’t reciprocated. Lord Selby was livid over some issue. Would they fight? In the middle of her soiree? On the spur of the moment, she couldn’t decide if that would be hideous or fabulous.
If they brawled, it would stir even more stories for the newspapers. Then again, Lord Selby was so angry. Who could guess what he might divulge?
“Nathan,” Sebastian said, “what brings you by? How’s your charming bride? Is everything all right?”
They were toe to toe, and Gertrude wedged herself between them, and she was practically begging. “Nathan, it’s apparent you’re upset. You and Sebastian should confer privately.”
“No.”
“Don’t harangue at him, Mother,” Sebastian told her, and he turned to his old friend. “What’s wrong?”
“Since our last meeting,” Lord Selby said, “I’ve had a very interesting development arise. I found out that I have a pair of half-sisters—twin girls—sired by my father when I was a boy.”
“My goodness!” Sebastian exclaimed, and the whole room tittered over the declaration.
“They were lost to me when my father died,” Lord Selby continued, “and I’ve been searching for them. One of them just staggered to Selby. She’s there now.”
“I’m glad for you,” Sebastian said.
“Well, I am not glad because her motive in seeking me out was that she was gravely imperiled and desperately needed my help.”
“How was she imperiled?”
“She was seduced by a cad. He took her into his home and let her live with him until he wore her down and was able to ruin her. Then he kicked her out on the road.”
“I’m sorry to hear it.”
“Are you?”
Lord Selby’s question had people squirming, and Veronica was suddenly afraid of what he was about to reveal.
“Gertrude!” she beseeched. “Can’t you make him depart? He’s wrecking my party.”
But Gertrude had never possessed the power to make a man act as she wished—her domineering husband had been proof of that—and she definitely had no authority to command Lord Selby.
He asked Sebastian, “Would you like to know my sister’s name?”
“Ah…yes?”
What other answer could possibly be appropriate? Yet when he voiced it, Gertrude, Ophelia, and Veronica gasped with astonishment. As to Sebastian, he was dumbstruck.
“It is Sarah Blake…Robertson,” Lord Selby said.
“Sarah is your sister?” Sebastian inquired like a dunce.
“Yes, and I accuse you of ruining her.” Veronica couldn’t imagine how Sebastian might have replied, but Lord Selby didn’t give him a chance. “Before you respond, I should inform you that if you deny your perfidy, I’ll kill you—right here and now. I’ve dreamed about it for months anyway. Furnish me with a reason to finally carry out my threat.”
“Selby! There are ladies present!” one of the male guests blustered, and several of them physically positioned themselves to prevent an altercation from erupting.
“I wouldn’t utter a derogatory comment about her,” Sebastian said. “I thought she was extraordinary. I still think that.”
“So you admit your treachery?” Lord Selby asked.
The spectators were hanging on their every word, and Veronica was frantically trying to get Gertrude’s attention. If Miss Robertson had told Lord Selby about being seduced by Sebastian, what else had she told him?
They’d agreed that Sebastian could never learn of their mischief. If Lord Selby disclosed it to him, she was quite sure she would never be Mrs. Sebastian Sinclair.
“Mother is correct, Nathan,” Sebastian said. “We should confer privately. There’s an empty parlor down the hall.”
“I don’t need an empty parlor to impart my message.”
“I’ve been so worried about Sarah,” Sebastian said. “Is she all right?”
“She is—no thanks to your mother and fiancée.”
Sebastian scowled. “What do you mean?”
“I’ll let them tell you what they did to her.”
At the snide retort, Veronica quailed and sidled back into the crowd, eager to be shielded from Sebastian’s furious gaze.
Ophelia stepped forward. “I’m relieved that Miss Robertson is with you, Nathan, but what about my two half-siblings? Are they with you too? I’ve been very concerned about them.”
Sebastian looked at Ophelia. “What are you talking about?”
“Mother made them disappear, and Veronica assisted her in getting rid of Miss Robertson. I’ve been anxious to apprise you, but you’re always so busy. You shouldn’t marry Veronica, and could I come to live with you at the Haven? I can’t stay with them another second.”
Her speech shocked the room to silence, and Gertrude finally understood that they were in big trouble. She seized the initiative. “Ophelia is being ridiculous, Sebastian. She’s been distraught lately, and she’s confused.”
“With all due respect, Gertrude”—Lord Selby was very short with her—“you should shut your mouth or you’ll simply dig a deeper hole for yourself.” He whipped his focus to Sebastian. “Here is what I demand of you. It’s not negotiable.”
“Fine. What is it? Before you tell me, I should point out that there’s nonsense occurring in this house of which I am unaware. I’ll deal with it immediately.”
Lord Selby kept on as if Sebastian hadn’t spoken. “It’s Saturday, and I expect you to arrive at Selby by Wednesday afternoon with my sister’s wards. They have vanished, and I believe them to be in grave jeopardy because of your mother. They are two of Sir Sidney’s many natural children—”
Every person gasped, and Gertrude seethed, “Nathan Blake! How dare you disparage my dear husband’s memory!”
Ophelia snottily said, “Put a sock in it, Mother.”
Lord Selby kept on again. “They are Sir Sidney’s natural children, and we recognize that your family doesn’t want them, but my family does. They are to be delivered to my sister by Wednesday.”
“Consider it done,” Sebastian said.
“While you are at Selby, you will propose to her.”
“What? No! Absolutely not!” Veronica shouted the words, rattling the crowd. “He’s marrying me. He’s been promised to me.”
“Be quiet, Miss Gordon,” Lord Selby said. “You’ve inflicted too much damage already, and I won’t listen to you on any topic.”
Sebastian cast a disgusted frown at Veronica, then he shifted to Lord Selby and said, “Ignore her.”
“I intend to,” Lord Selby said. “Now then, where was I? Oh, yes. While you are at Selby, you will propose to Sarah. I have no idea if she wishes to have you as her husband or not
, just as I have no idea what your feelings are for her. I’ll leave it up to her to decide if you’re worth the bother.” Like a threat, he added, “But you will ask her, and if she consents, you will wed her.”
He stormed out, and they were frozen in their spots, watching him go. No one moved until the front door slammed behind him, then the crowd erupted in chaos.
“Gertrude!” Veronica wailed. “Do something!”
“That’s enough, Veronica!” Sebastian voiced the command in a calm way, but it was so chilling she felt as if he’d slapped her. Then he addressed the guests. “I’m sorry, but this party is over. Obviously, my family has some issues to discuss. The butler will help you with your cloaks and hats.”
He tarried like a statue in the center of the floor, his imperious gaze daring them to complain. People glanced at each other, then one person and another hurried out. In a quick minute, they were alone—just him, Gertrude, Ophelia, and Veronica—the detritus of her ruined soiree the only evidence anyone had been with them at all.
He went over and closed the parlor door, sealing them in, then he flashed an evil glower and asked, “Who would like to start?”
* * * *
“I have nothing to say,” Gertrude huffed, “except I’ve always thought Nathan was a lunatic, and his behavior this evening proves I was correct.”
“Go to your room,” was Sebastian’s response, “and you are not to emerge until you have my specific permission.”
“This is my house!” she fumed. “You can’t send me there as if I’m a naughty child.”
Ophelia had always viewed her brother as an even-tempered fellow, but suddenly, he looked so angry she wasn’t sure how he might act.
“This is not your house, Gertrude Sinclair,” he told her. “I own every brick and nail. Now go!”
He bellowed the last and—her lips tight with irritation—she stomped out.
Then he turned to Veronica. “What did you do to Miss Robertson?”
As her reply, she said, “You can’t wed her! You can’t! You’ve been pledged to me since I was a girl.”
“I can’t guess what mischief you’ve perpetrated, but it’s crushed any plans I might have had with regard to you. I will not marry you. Not ever.”
At the announcement, Veronica was so stricken that Ophelia wondered if she might faint.
“You can’t mean it!” Veronica moaned.
“You will go to your room, as my mother went to hers, but while you are there, you will pack your bags. You’re departing in the morning.”
“To what destination?”
“You’re heading home to the country, and you will not ever be welcome here again.”
Veronica was desperate to change his mind, but she never could, and her sole ally, Gertrude, had slinked away. She glommed onto Ophelia. “He can’t treat me like this, Ophelia. Tell him he can’t.”
Ophelia shrugged. “It’s his house, Veronica. He can do as he likes in it.”
Sebastian marched to the parlor door and yanked it open, and he called to the butler. “Veronica is leaving in the morning. Have a group of maids prepare her things and ask them to be thorough. She’s never coming back, and I want no item left behind that would give her a reason to contact us in the future.”
Veronica began to sob, fat tears dripping down her cheeks.
“Whatever I did,” she claimed, “and I’m not admitting any duplicity, I did it for us, so you’d wed me!”
“Honestly, Veronica,” Ophelia scolded, “you’re making such a scene, and my brother and I are sick of you.”
“Ophelia, please,” Veronica begged. “Help me to convince him.”
“You never will.”
Veronica spun to Sebastian. “I’ll languish in the country for a week or two, and we’ll talk after you’ve had a chance to reflect.”
“We won’t talk ever again,” Sebastian said. “How can I be any clearer?”
“Of course we’ll talk.” Veronica was practically cooing. “We can’t let this little dilemma destroy what’s been arranged.”
“I’ll unravel your perfidy,” Sebastian warned her. “You realize that, don’t you? If Miss Robertson or my half-siblings were harmed because of you, I’m not certain what penalty you’ll pay, but I can guarantee you won’t like it.”
She stamped her foot like a spoiled toddler. “Stop being so horrid to me!”
“I haven’t started being horrid.”
She wasn’t having any luck, and she tried a last gamble. “If you send me away, I’ll never forgive you.”
“I don’t care.”
His expression was cold and condemning, and she keened with dismay and staggered out. Once her strides vanished up the stairs, he turned to Ophelia and said, “It appears you have a few secrets to share with me. I’m sorry I’ve been too busy to listen.”
“It’s my own fault. I’ve been struggling to deduce my feelings about you marrying Veronica. I’ve been excited about it for ages, but since my…well…my ordeal, I’ve been distraught. I was afraid I wasn’t assessing the situation as I should.”
“I’m glad you stuck your nose into it. Perhaps you and I will figure out how to get along after all.”
“Maybe I’m finally growing up.”
“Maybe. Now what have you discovered about all of this? I’m in a hurry to receive some answers—when I hadn’t even grasped that there were questions I should be asking.”
“I can explain what happened to Miss Robertson,” Ophelia said, “but I can’t guess what happened to the children.”
“For the missing pieces, we’ll search Mother’s library. She keeps extensive records. We’ll see what we can find, and if we don’t dig up the information we seek, we’ll torture her until she reveals every detail.”
“I might enjoy it too much,” Ophelia said. “Here’s what I know for sure, and here is what I suspect.”
* * * *
“I have to tell you something.”
“What is it?”
Sarah smiled at Nell. In London, they’d been good friends, but with Sarah being Nathan’s sister, they’d become extremely close.
“You probably won’t like it,” Nell said.
“Why would you assume that?”
It was a pretty autumn day, but a bit cool. They’d bundled themselves in warm cloaks and had walked to the village to tour the cemetery behind the church. All of her Blake relatives were buried there, and she’d visited her father’s grave.
They were on their way back to Selby, strolling up the lane toward the manor, and she contrasted her current circumstance with her earlier arrival. It was interesting how quickly a woman’s affairs could change when a rich man stepped forward to assist her.
She snorted with disgust. It was exactly the attitude she’d had when Sebastian Sinclair had agreed to let her live in his cottage and he…
She pushed the thought away. She wouldn’t ponder him! He was the past, and her brother and Nell—and Selby—were the future.
“Why are you scowling all of a sudden?” Nell inquired.
“I was thinking how dire my condition was when I stumbled in. I’m so much better.”
“Nathan is adept at fixing what’s wrong. I learned that lesson when he whisked me away from disaster and married me.”
“We’re both lucky.”
“Yes, we are.”
“What were you going to tell me?” Sarah asked. “You said I wouldn’t like it.”
“I tried to dissuade him so please don’t be angry with me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I could never be angry with you, and by him, I presume you mean my brother. What’s he done?”
Nell halted, and they faced each other.
“I told Nathan about Mr. Sinclair,” Nell confessed.
Sarah’s cheeks heated. “I hope you didn’t confide all of it.”
“I told him enough, and it’s the reason he rode to town yesterday. He went to talk to Mr. Sinclair.”
Sarah gasped. “Because of me?�
�
“Yes.”
“Oh, my lord! They won’t fight, will they?”
“He swore he wouldn’t.”
“Your response provides no comfort at all.”
“He intends to order Mr. Sinclair to locate Noah and Petunia.”
“Well…good. If anyone can make him tell us where they are, it’s Nathan.”
She suffered a huge wave of relief. She’d been vexed over how to mention the children to Nathan. They were Sinclairs, and he was feuding with Sebastian. Plus, he’d already showered her with a thousand boons, and she couldn’t bear to place another burden on his broad shoulders.
“Thank you for asking him,” she said. “I couldn’t figure out how to ask him myself.”
“He’ll find them, and he’ll bring them to live with us. We have plenty of space, and it will be fun to have some children running about.”
“It would be wonderful to have them here. I’d be so grateful.”
“But there is one other thing you should know.”
Nell wrinkled her nose, and Sarah said, “Uh-oh. What is it? Just spit it out.”
“Your brother felt Mr. Sinclair should wed you.”
“What?” Sarah grumbled with frustration. “I never wanted that! I wish he’d discussed it with me first.”
“He was too incensed. Are you sure you wouldn’t like to wed Mr. Sinclair? Were you fond of him? Were you in love with him? Tell me the truth.”
“I once assumed I’d be delighted to marry him, but if you could have seen how he treated me! His mother and his fiancée were so cruel, and he had them evict me because he didn’t have the nerve to do it himself.”
“Are you positive he’s to blame? I’ve met him, and I liked him very much. I can’t picture him acting that way.”
“Neither could I, but if I hadn’t traveled to Selby, I can’t imagine what might have happened to me. He had his driver dump me in London with no money and night falling. Have I told you—when I was sleeping in that tavern kitchen—I was offered a job as a tavern wench? And the proprietor wasn’t interested in having me serve ale to his customers. He had another type of service in mind.”
