“Was she shocked?”
“She didn’t seem so.” But was she being truthful?
“I’ve had one surprise after the other with you here, Wimsley.” The duke stared at him in silence for the space of a few heartbeats. Then he roused himself. “Here.” He handed the book to him. “Give this to Miss Forbes. She asked for something entertaining to read that might shed light on the human experience.”
Sebastian brushed his thumb over the raised lettering on the linen cover, not bothering to read the title. “Where is she?” He’d hoped to continue avoiding her for the duration of the day for no other reason than he didn’t know what to say after the kiss they’d shared. That and the fact that he feared if he was once more in her company, he’d want more of the same.
And then where would they be?
“The music room with my wife.”
Sebastian took a step toward the door, but then a thought brought him to a halt. “This love and marriage business for men like us…” A quick glance over his shoulder brought his gaze crashing into the duke’s. “Is it truly worth it?”
A slow grin curved Manchester’s lips. “Every damned minute spent in the struggle. Finding acceptance on many levels changes a man for the better, despite being cursed. It makes a difference.” He waved a hand. “Christmastide is the season of miracles, brother. Even for beings such as us. Remember that.”
“I’ll try.” Why was it so hard to believe for himself?
“If you are having difficulty with hope, talk to the Earl of Devon. His own romance happened last year during this time. If there was ever a man without a prayer of redemption, it was him.”
Sebastian nodded. “Thank you. I’ll speak with him the next time he’s here.” Finally, he took his leave with a healthy dose of skepticism, but now there was a seed of hope planted that perhaps, with time and enough care, would bloom.
Locating the music room became something of a challenge, for he hadn’t yet explored the entirety of the townhouse, but eventually, the soft, almost ethereal, floating strains of the harp met his ears, and he followed the sound with an attitude of anticipation. The duchess had quite a talent for music, and what was more, those notes had the power to soothe his beast.
How extraordinary. Did Manchester know of this boon? He snorted. Of course he did. No doubt this was but one of the ways he and duchess were able to live in harmony with his wolf.
Upon arrival, he stood in the doorway, transfixed. The music the duchess created was like nothing he’d ever heard before, so haunting and lilting were the notes, so hopeful and dreamlike the melody. Not even the piece she’d played at the ball the evening before had sent him into such an arrested state.
Inside his head, his wolf whined and then laid down, resting his head upon his paws and closing his eyes. For a few glorious moments, the angst and confusion that regularly bedeviled him ceased to churn, and he relaxed by increments.
Beyond that, Estelle sat on a delicate gilt-painted chair, tears streaming along the soft curves of her cheeks. She was uncommonly beautiful in her blatant appreciation of the music, but the baby in her arms stole his breath.
Oh, dear God, was there ever a more heavenly picture than this?
He made no sound, no movement, didn’t even dare to breathe for fear it would break the spell currently weaving about the room. Instead, he continued to stare, drink in the absolute perfection with his gaze, and the tiny seed of hope newly planted inside his soul sprouted and began to grow
As Estelle kept her rapturous attention on the duchess, nodding in time to the swells and valleys Alice made with the music, she pressed her lips to the baby’s forehead. The child—a pretty little thing with fine curls running riot over her head—cooed and squealed, her brown eyes wide. She tangled a tiny hand in a lock of Estelle’s hair that had escaped its chignon. It was an image he would carry with him until his dying day.
And he couldn’t have enough of it
How easily he imagined himself tucked away at his estate in the country, sitting in a drawing room with Estelle in a winged-back chair nearby, cuddling an infant on her lap with another two small children playing at her feet. All of the cherubs possessed her golden hair and had his facial features. His heart gave a mighty thud. But conversely, how cruel it was to see a glimpse of a future he could never have. Sebastian clutched the book so tightly that the edges cut into his fingers.
When the song ended, the last notes echoed, almost shivered, in the air for long moments. An unaccountable sadness filled his person at the loss. But before he could speak, Estelle rushed into the silence.
“You are truly gifted, Alice,” she enthused. “It was as if the heavens opened and gave you their secret language. I am in awe.”
The duchess smiled. A faint flush of pleasure colored her cheeks. “That is the power of the harp.” She ducked her head. Even though she was a duchess and someone high in the ton, a bit of praise made her embarrassed. No wonder his brother had fallen for her so hard. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. I’ve worked on learning this piece for a while now.”
“It was lovely, almost like kissing,” Estelle admitted in a whispered voice that had him staring all the more at her. Had she enjoyed what they’d shared last night? She stood, cuddling the baby to her chest, bouncing the bundle and then gently disentangled the tiny fingers from her hair. “Thank you, also, for letting me hold your sweet child. It was truly an other-worldly experience.”
“She is a gift I never thought I’d have.” Alice accepted the precious infant and set the girl against her shoulder. “My history with Donovan wasn’t always as pleasant as it is now.”
Sebastian had the strong impression he was eavesdropping on a private conversation, but his feet remained rooted to the floor.
“You were not fated for each other?” Estelle asked. A dear frown marred the perfection of her kissable mouth, and it creased her forehead.
“Oh no.” Alice chuckled, her eyes alight. “We had to understand each other, accept each other—faults and all—before love could come, before healing took place for us both. Donovan had to learn how to love himself. Only then could we proceed.”
Uncomfortable with the unexpected lessons she’d imparted on the heels of the duke’s advice, Sebastian cleared his throat. Both women started and shot glances at him. Heat flooded his cheeks. Would they assume he’d been spying on a private moment? “Uh, the duke sent me with a book for Miss Forbes.”
“Good afternoon, Sebastian.” Alice’s smile could disarm men at war. She squeezed Estelle’s shoulder. “The baby needs feeding and then her nap. I shall see you both at tea.”
When she exited the room, Estelle smiled at him, and he stupidly came toward her, unable to do anything else. “I’d hoped I would see you before the evening’s entertainment.”
No one had ever been pleased to see him. In fact, people mostly tolerated him, even the women he’d previously chased. Skilled as a lover was one thing, but once they learned the truth of who he was, they ran. Not Estelle. She remained. Was she as hopeful as he? His chest tightened against the onslaught of foreign emotions. “How could I disappoint you?” He held out the book, only then noticing it was a volume of poetry.
She glanced at it, her silvery eyes lighting. “Will you read to me from it? Your voice is so soothing.”
Another shock slammed into him as he stared. “Of course.” He couldn’t forget the fetching picture she’d made with the baby. “Estelle, I…” What? His wolf remained silent, still sleeping off the after-effects of the music. They had little over four days left, but suddenly, he wanted every bit of time with her he could manage. “I…” Not having words appropriate to his thoughts, he brushed the lingering tears from her cheeks.
“Sometimes there are no need for words,” she whispered with a smile, but her chin trembled.
“Yes.” He let his touch remain for a second longer than proper, while his gaze dropped to her mouth. Would she object if he tried for a kiss? Would that appease him when his body—h
is traitorous heart—yearned for so much more? “Each time I’m near you, I feel the chance, the hope, of peace. I don’t know why.” Nor did he understand why he admitted such a thing to her.
What is happening to me?
An expression of exquisite joy came over her that he could do nothing except stare at the faint sparkles splashed over her cheeks. “That is all I ever wanted to do as a star—inspire people and fill them with hope.” Estelle took his hand and pulled him to the row of chairs where she’d sat previously. When she looked at him, held his gaze, a hundred futures swirled in her eyes. Would he ever live out any of them with her? She sat and so did he. “Life is full of everyday magic, I’ve found since becoming human. We merely need to open our eyes—ourselves—to it. It’s a ridiculously simple concept but one so difficult to accomplish.”
When had she become so wise in her short time here? But oh, he wished she would teach him more than she already had. “And if we cannot or won’t see it?” he asked in an equally hushed voice.
“Then our existence will be very ordinary, and what is the point of that?”
He looked into her eyes, had the sensation of falling, wanted to dive into those silvery pools and lose himself. But he couldn’t find the words, hesitated to tell her what he was beginning to feel out of fear his beast would ruin everything.
“In the ocean of a million stars, don’t forget to light yours, Sebastian.” She tapped on the book he still held. “I choose to believe in magic. It makes human life ever so much better.”
“Indeed it does.” She was so trusting, so truthful, so genuine. It bothered her not a jot that she was different or that he was, she enjoyed the mere act of living. Please let me be more like her. Sebastian smiled, an honest smile that had nothing except a bit of joy behind the gesture. He opened the book in the middle. “God help me, but I hope—I wish—you are right.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Sebastian restlessly thumped a hand against his thigh as he leaned a shoulder on the door frame. Once more, the ballroom was crowded—a right proper crush that any hostess would envy—yet he wished himself anywhere but in this room.
Let us leave this place, his wolf cajoled, pacing in his head. We need to run, to hunt.
I agree as far as removing from the stifling confines of this event. He roved his gaze over the throng on the dance floor. When he spotted Estelle holding court within a knot of young bucks bent on securing her attention or her hand for a dance, his chest tightened. She obviously enjoyed society life, and she seemed suited for it.
Then he narrowed his eyes and looked closer. No, that wasn’t right at all. Panic lined her expression. It shadowed her eyes and no matter how she tried to back out of the circle, it closed ever closer around her. If he was still a wagering man, he’d lay down odds that she was uncomfortable and wished for an escape.
In lieu of a run tonight, rutting with the woman is an acceptable compromise, his wolf said with a rather toothy grin.
The issue is rather more delicate than that. But he would extricate her from the cluster of would-be suitors. She didn’t deserve to be some man’s temporary play thing. For that matter, none of those men were good enough for her.
As if you are. What the devil do you think you can offer her, and in only four days?
Sebastian ignored his wolf and the question, though it was a valid concern. He was a baron with iffy coffers, with a sister to look after. He wasn’t a rising-star within the ton, and he had an unstable wolf to deal with on the side. There was nothing to recommend him to any woman worth spending a lifetime with.
Never had he despaired of his situation more.
Damnation, there was nothing for it. She drew him like a moth to flame. He gritted his teeth as he pushed off the doorframe and sauntered in her direction. His sorry state was a worry for another time, and after a handful of days, Estelle would return home to the stars and he would be left alone.
Again.
But what if I don’t want that anymore?
His wolf snorted. No one asked you.
And that is exactly the problem.
Then there was no more time to think, for he’d reached the men in orbit around her. Clearing his throat, he none too gently moved a couple of bachelors out of his way. “Excuse me, boys. I do believe Miss Forbes is promised to me.” He didn’t say the next dance was his, for he didn’t merely want her as a waltz partner.
Estelle sucked in a breath. Her eyes rounded with surprise. Pleasure flickered to life in the deep silvery depths. “Sir Wimsley. How nice to see you tonight. I thought you wouldn’t come.”
He shrugged and offered a grin when the company surrounding her shot him glares. “I have found that if you attend an event, so will I.” Then he extended a gloved hand. “Shall I escort you away from these over-eager men and give you a modicum of peace?”
For long moments she looked at him, appraising, assessing, and he hoped to God she didn’t find him lacking. Then she nodded. “I would enjoy that over everything. Thank you.” Estelle slipped her gloved fingers into his palm and he closed his hand around hers.
“Sorry, gentleman, but the lady has chosen. You’re back on the hunt.” Sebastian chuckled in time to his wolf as he extricated her from the knot of young bucks.
She is mine.
Where had that thought come from? He had no romantic feelings toward her, did he?
Human, for all your intelligence, you’re the biggest idiot I’ve ever known, his wolf complained, and if an animal could, he would have rolled his eyes.
“Will we dance?” Estelle asked, and the lyrical sound of her voice yanked him out of his thoughts. “I enjoy such exercise with you.”
Heat seeped into his cheeks and neck. Despite the fact that several pairs of eyes followed his progress through the ballroom—one of them belonging to the enigmatic Earl of Devon—Sebastian escorted her from the room and well away from the center of noise and activity. “Of course we can dance if that is what you desire. Or, if you merely wish to remove to the quiet of the night, I’m more than willing to remain by your side for that as well.”
She rested her fingers on his arm. “I’d like to take in the air, please. There is something about stuffy ballrooms that I find stifling.”
“In this, you and I are in agreement.” Unwilling to make use of a terrace, he led her through the halls of the unfamiliar townhouse and into the entryway. Since he didn’t plan on leaving the society event for longer than it took to accomplish a walk, he nodded at the footman on duty, who then opened the door for them. “Perhaps a stroll in the moonlit snow is more to your taste?”
“You know me well, Sebastian.”
He thrilled at the throaty way she said his voice and the way his body responded with increasing awareness. “I do what I can,” he murmured. “After all, what lady doesn’t wish to see Mayfair by moonlight? Unless you’ll wilt in the chill?”
“I’m made of much sterner stuff than that.”
“I am coming to believe that you are.” Fearing he sounded like the biggest nodcock, he escorted along the street for some moments in silence. “You are not enjoying your time among humans?”
“I am, but I think I could gain more insight if the humans I’m with aren’t constantly flitting from one venue to the other.” She glanced at him, and the sapphire silk of her gown made her eyes that much deeper and darker. “Why cannot humans simply find contentment by their own hearth and in their own home? Isn’t that a better way to discover interest in their fellows?”
“Ah, but it is the Christmastide season and everyone is restless. Perhaps they like to visit with friends in the spirit of the holiday, where peace and goodwill are most sought after.” He grinned, and as the desultory snow flurries peppered the air and fell onto her cheeks and shoulders, he wished he’d had the foresight to decline the evening’s invitation and simply nestle into the drawing room with Estelle nearby. Perhaps they would read from another volume of poetry, or he could talk of his boyhood, if she’d indicated an interest
. “But you’re right. One cannot find the heart of a person while at a ton event.”
“Yes.” Estelle nodded.
They crossed an intersecting street and continued on their walk. A large collection of the townhouses they passed were fully illuminated with many guests within. In another world, on another night, it would have presented a cheerful picture, but knowing Estelle’s time on Earth was limited, Sebastian shoved the picturesque images from his mind.
Finally, she slowed in front of a gaping alley, and lifted her face to the sky. “The moon is beautiful from this distance,” she said in a low voice.
He followed her gaze and peered at the half-moon that flirted with thin wisps of clouds. His breath clouded around his head in the cold. “I’ve never thought it beautiful before. Whenever I see the moon, especially in its full phase, it always means dreadful things will occur, for I have no choice but to become the beast.”
Her fingers tightened on his arm. “Will you show him to me so that I may witness your transformation?”
“I…” Sebastian’s stomach bottomed out, but the hope inside him continued to bloom and grow. “Soon.”
She nodded and didn’t ask any more questions regarding his wolf. Instead, she continued to stare at the heavens. “The moon is an old man who constantly chases his only love—the sun. Around and around they go, never destined to occupy the sky at the same time, but he gives chase just the same, for no matter how impossible their romance, he doesn’t lose faith that one of these days he will catch her.”
With a tight chest, Sebastian kept his focus on the moon. “What a wonderful way of looking at it.” Did that mean she wanted him to continue his pursuit even though they both knew it was a lost cause?
“It is the only way.” Estelle glanced at him, and her smile nearly became his undoing. “I have met him, and while he is a nice and pleasant man, he hungers for a life beyond what he was given.” Her gaze faltered, landing on his cravat. “I think everyone who feels a higher purpose does. The trick is to find the crack in fate’s plan and use it to our advantage.”
Transformed By A Christmas Star: A Lords of the Night novella Page 8
