The Skilled Seduction

by Tracy Goodwin

  Studying the orange and gold flames dancing within the grate, Victoria considered her options.

  “I feel like I’m misleading myself. What choice do I truly have, Colin?” for the first time, she admitted it aloud. “Lose everyone I love or marry Tristan. How can I not marry him?”

  “Do you still love him?” Colin’s brow furrowed.

  “God help me, I do,” she admitted in a tremulous murmur. “It is an act that at this very moment makes me question my sanity.”

  “Tristan wants to marry you,” Colin continued. “That is why he has asked me to convince you to do so.”

  “He doesn’t love me. What would possess him to marry me if it isn’t required of him?” Victoria couldn’t fathom Tristan’s reasoning.

  “I believe that he does care for you,” her brother scratched his chin. “In spite of my better judgment, I found his argument quite compelling.”

  Victoria’s gaze searched his as Colin’s next statement removed all hope from her heart. “He refuses to admit that he may love you, and even if he does, I don’t know if he will ever be able to admit it to himself, let alone anyone else.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to block out everything, including her imprudent hope that Tristan would eventually change his mind.

  “He admits to needing you,” Colin tipped her chin up and Tori reluctantly met his gaze. “I think you deserve more.”

  Victoria was a romantic and always had been. She wanted a love to withstand time, one for the ages.

  Was Tristan’s offering enough?

  If not, would she ever be able to love anyone else?

  “If it is any consolation, I think Tristan does love you,” Colin admitted with a grim smile.

  It was Victoria’s turn to arch her brow in challenge. “Really?”

  “Like I said, he may never admit to it.” He offered her a look of understanding.

  “So, I risk giving myself to him completely, to receive nothing in return?” Hers was a rhetorical question. She knew there was no answer.

  “It’s a gamble,” Colin admitted. “Though I’m a betting man, even I don’t like those odds.”

  “Dear God, what do I do?” she prayed for a sign from the heavens. An arrow pointing towards the choice she should make would have been perfect though she would have happily settled for something more subtle.

  No hint presented itself. Either God had forsaken Victoria or she was expected to make this decision entirely on her own.

  “Thank you for your concern, Colin, and for your support.”

  Her brother kissed her forehead in a silent act of acknowledgment. Victoria then crossed the room, noting that Molly didn’t follow her this time.

  Just as well, Victoria thought. She was truly alone and rightly so. Her neat, organized existence was left in ruins and she had no one to blame but herself.

  Left to piece her life back together on her own, Victoria walked to her suite, her shoulders held high. In spite of her disgrace, she was the Dowager Duchess of Davenport’s daughter, after all.

  Rachel Montgomery was more than a kind woman and dutiful wife. She was a survivor, a strong woman who taught her daughter how to fight.

  Victoria had done so once.

  She would do so again.

  Yes, for the first time since this mess began, Tori knew what she must do. She would find a way out of the chaos she had created.

  If it was the last thing she ever did, Victoria would once again fight for her life.

  Chapter 10

  Tristan couldn’t help but feel intimidated as he entered his brother-in-law’s study. Why had Sebastian summoned him on this particular afternoon? Such were the questions gnawing at Tristan’s conscience as a knot of apprehension tightened within his abdomen.

  Did Sebastian suspect what transpired between him and Victoria?

  “Please sit, Tristan. Join me for a brandy.” Sebastian interrupted Tristan’s silent torture, placing a glass of amber liquid on the desk before him with a loud thud.

  It wasn’t the gesture that unnerved Tristan as much as his brother-in-law’s intense gaze. With every second that Sebastian’s eyes bore into his soul, Tristan’s suspicion of the man’s motives mounted, heightening to a fever pitch.

  As instructed, he sat in the soft leather chair in front of Sebastian’s desk and took a hearty swig of amber liquid in an attempt to calm his nerves, savoring the warmth that the liquor infused.

  “Do you remember the last time you and I had a chat in this room?” Sebastian asked, taking a sip from his own glass before placing it on his desk with care.

  Tristan swallowed hard against the lump that had formed in his throat.

  Damn it to hell, Sebastian knows.

  He could see it in the man’s expression – like a lion stalking its prey, waiting to pounce at the slightest hint of fear or weakness, Sebastian was biding his time, scrutinizing Tristan while waiting for him to betray the truth.

  Well aware that the knowledge threatened to destroy Tristan’s carefully crafted preparations, he refused to take the bait. Able to bluff with the best of them, Tristan decided to force his brother-in-law’s hand by nodding. “I remember.”

  “It was about your sister, was it not?” Sebastian studied Tristan with icy reserve.

  His brother-in-law was waiting for him to crack. Tristan recognized the tactic for he himself had successfully used it numerous times. Never one to surrender without a fight, Tristan spoke only when he was certain his voice was steady.

  “I remember that evening all too well,” he admitted, satisfied that his calm tone contradicted the molten anxiety laced with desperate self-preservation that now pulsated through his veins.

  Tristan must keep the truth from his brother-in-law since Sebastian controlled Victoria’s monetary release. Yes, his primary motive was selfish but, truth be told, he also wanted to shelter Victoria. Tristan knew how humiliated she would be if Sebastian ever discovered the truth.

  Remorse battered Tristan like a rough ocean current, not simply because of the act he committed with Victoria but also because he remembered the fateful conversation to which Sebastian referred.

  Even though it had occurred years prior, Tristan would never forget it. Having taken place shortly after Gwen and Sebastian’s wedding, it remained the only occasion that Tristan had ever argued with his brother-in-law. Tristan had demanded that Sebastian love and respect Gwen and the irony now made him want to wretch.

  He had made demands of a man who was much more noble and moral than Tristan could ever hope to be – a man who had opened his home to him, a man who was a brother to him when his own was nowhere to be found. Yet, Tristan had since repaid that generous man by seducing his sister.

  Granted, it had been less an act of seduction than it was an act of desperation, but Sebastian wouldn’t understand that nor should he. No, all Sebastian would comprehend is that Tristan had done the unthinkable to the man’s beloved sister.

  Sebastian would revile him for it.

  Perhaps he already did?

  Tristan met his brother-in-law’s severe scrutiny. It was a match of wills – who would blink first? As it turned out, Sebastian would be the one. Lifting his crystal tumbler, Sebastian tilted it back and forth, studying the amber liquid as it sloshed within his glass.

  “While I can’t quote you verbatim,” Sebastian began, “I clearly recall your demands. You told me to be kind to your sister, to love her and to respect her. You demanded that either I love her or let her go.”

  Tristan’s chest constricted. He spent most of his life railing against injustice and harsh realization had dawned upon him at last.

  He’d become a bloody hypocrite.

  Sebastian set his glass upon his desk, again locking eyes with Tristan. His jaw twitched, a foretelling of the imminent confrontation.

  “I took for granted that you would extend some of those same courtesies to my own sister.” Sebastian’s timbre was a combination of polite reserve intermingled with
unabashed fury.

  For the first time since his night of shared passion with Victoria, Tristan realized that he had risked more than he’d imagined. He had, in fact, gambled with his entire family. That one act of carnal desire now threatened to destroy all he held dear.

  Tristan turned towards the wall next to them, his eyes immediately drawn to a vibrant canvas accentuated with rich pink, violet, green and gold brush strokes. The scene depicted Kellington Manor’s rose garden, he recognized the location immediately. He also identified the artist at first glance – Victoria. How could she capture such beauty on canvas?

  He knew the answer all too well …

  Because she was the personification of beauty.

  Not because of her appearance, even though she was truly breathtaking. No, what made her truly exquisite was her heart, her essence. When she smiled, the room always seemed brighter while her laugh sounded lyrical, as if music to his ears.

  What had Tristan done by debasing her?

  “Look at me,” Sebastian thundered, his tone low and dangerous. So much so that Tristan immediately complied.

  Sebastian leaned forward. “It is my turn to make demands. My first is that you tell me what you have done to my sister.”

  While Tristan was convinced that Sebastian was indeed suspicious, he couldn’t admit the extent of what transpired between him and Tori. If he did, Sebastian would grant his sister her emancipation and Tristan’s whole damned plan would go up in flames.

  Instead, he chose to avoid Sebastian’s question. “What makes you think I’ve done anything to Victoria?”

  “I’m not an idiot, Tristan. In addition to being an intelligent man, I’m also an observant one.” Sebastian replied, rising then marching over to his brother-in-law. He leaned against his desk and, for the first time, Tristan noticed that Sebastian’s hand was clenched in a tight fist, flexing then straightening before the pattern repeated itself.

  It became imperative for him to right the wrong he’d committed. “Sebastian—”

  “Before you say one more word, there are several things you must consider.” Sebastian’s husky timbre was low with fury. “I am aware that you and Victoria seem to be avoiding one another since the night of Gwen’s illness, at least when Gwen and I are present. In addition, I have noted my sister’s change in appearance and demeanor since then. In short, I have observed enough to know that something has indeed occurred between you and my sister. I now demand that you confirm it.”

  Tristan was trapped and, like any caged beast, he wanted out. “No good will result from this conversation, Sebastian,” he said, rising to his feet. “My confirmation won’t give you the satisfaction you seek. Instead, it will hurt Gwen – you and I both know that.”

  “What of my sister?” Sebastian growled. “Do you honestly expect me to remain silent? To do nothing, stay quiet, while Victoria suffers?”

  “No. I want you to trust me. Trust that I will behave honorably towards her.” From here on out he would, it was Tristan’s solemn vow as he assured his brother-in-law, “I swear to you, upon my life.”

  “What do you know of honor?” Sebastian lunged for Tristan, lifting him by his lapels as his chair fell backwards, crashing against the hardwood floor.

  “Your life is worth nothing to me,” Sebastian roared as he slammed Tristan’s back against the wall before placing his arm over Tristan’s chest, clutching his cravat in a tight fist with his other arm. “Trusting you is no longer an option where my sister is concerned.”

  Sebastian tightened his grip on the silk fabric of Tristan’s cravat, pressing his fist against his larynx. “You see, I trusted you when you showed no preference for her, no inclination that you would debase her even though I was well aware of your reputation.”

  Tristan flinched and Sebastian’s eyes betrayed a glint of understanding. “Ah, you thought it was a secret? No, I have remained informed of your latest London activities. I choose to conceal them from your sister because it would break Gwen’s heart but, make no mistake, I am fully apprised of the sordid details.”

  “That’s enough, Sebastian,” Tristan attempted to shove his brother-in-law aside, however, the man tightened his grasp.

  “If you think, even for one moment, that I will allow my sister to become embroiled in your scandal, you are sorely mistaken,” Sebastian leaned his weight against Tristan’s throat, until he was gasping for air while clawing at his brother-in-law’s jacket.

  “You once demanded that I stay away from Gwen if I wasn’t going to be a good husband to her, if I wasn’t going to love her as she deserved. Do you remember that, Tristan?”

  “Yes,” Tristan shoved Sebastian again, this time causing the man to stumble backwards. He then adjusted his cravat, struggling to inhale. “Yes, I remember that conversation. How could I possibly forget?”

  Sebastian surveyed him with hooded eyes, like those of a hawk. “I can’t be certain. You have, after all, become a different man since then. Morality doesn’t exist for you anymore, does it?”

  “You know nothing about me or my life,” Tristan asserted through clenched teeth.

  “I know enough to keep my sister far the hell away from you.” Sebastian pointed at Tristan. “Which is precisely what I am going to do starting right here, right now.”

  “No, I won’t allow it,” Tristan spoke calmly, his tone belying his rapid heartbeat. The situation had long since spiraled beyond his control and the realization that Sebastian could indeed keep Tori away from him robbed the very breath from Tristan’s lungs, even more than the man’s hold over him mere moments before.

  “You have no choice,” Sebastian said, taking one step closer to Tristan. “I should have never allowed you near her in the first place – regardless of your close relationship to Gwen. I have learned my lesson, though, and will send Victoria away if I have to, for the rest of her life if need be. Rest assured that I will protect my sister from you until my dying breath.”

  “What if Victoria is carrying my child?” The words escaped Tristan’s lips before he could check himself and, as if in response, a suffocating silence engulfed the room. It was the same eerie calm that precedes the gale and a violent tempest was indeed brewing, Tristan realized, as he stared at his brother-in-law. Reflected in Sebastian’s eyes was a fury the likes of which Tristan had never before witnessed.

  Sebastian glared at him, a vein pulsating erratically in his neck as he muttered, “You bastard.”

  His fist made contact with Tristan’s jaw, the intense pain upon impact causing Tristan’s ears to ring. Sebastian then shoved the younger man hard against the wall once again.

  “I don’t want to fight you, Sebastian,” Tristan said, making a conscious effort not to fight back against his brother-in-law.

  Sebastian didn’t relent, punching Tristan again, this time in his gut, winding him, sending him to his knees. “I loved you like a brother, Tristan. I welcomed you into my home and this is how you repay my kindness?” he hissed, grabbing Tristan’s shoulders, shaking him with every word. “This is my sister that you’ve ruined. This is Victoria, my remarkable sister who deserved more than to be labeled as one of your whores.”

  It was Sebastian’s last statement that caused Tristan to retaliate. Lunging forward, he shoved Sebastian against the opposite wall with such might that the gilded frame of the colorful canvas that he’d admired earlier teetered then fell to the floor.

  “Don’t you dare compare Victoria to a whore,” Tristan demanded, his tone steely-edged as he fought back, his own fist connecting with his brother-in-law’s jaw. Sebastian struggled to break free of Tristan’s tight hold but this time it was Tristan who possessed control. He slammed Sebastian against the sideboard, the sound of crashing crystal piercing his ears.

  “Never disparage your sister to me again,” Tristan demanded as he released the man then dabbed his lip with his fingertips, the taste of his own blood bitter.

  Sebastian leaned against the sideboard for support, his chest heaving in an attem
pt to catch his breath. Tristan was relieved to see that his brother-in-law had at last ceased his physical assault. For one brief moment, it seemed like the two had settled the matter until Sebastian lunged at Tristan, propelling him across the desk causing letters of correspondence, an ink blotter and a crystal tumbler to scatter in different directions.

  Having hit the ground hard, Tristan had no time to regain composure before Sebastian pounced on him. In response, Tristan rammed Sebastian with his forearm, pinning him against the floor.

  “Stop it!” A shrill voice sliced through the chaos. “Tristan, stop it!”

  Gwen grabbed her brother’s shoulders. “Let go of him this instant!”

  Tristan shoved Sebastian aside. Both men stood, glaring at each other, gasping for each breath.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Gwen demanded from Tristan. When she failed to garner a response from her brother, she then turned towards her husband. “Sebastian, answer me.”

  Sebastian didn’t look at his wife, not once, choosing instead to glare at Tristan. “Get the hell out of my home,” his baritone thundered through the ensuing silence as he removed his handkerchief from his vest pocket then dabbed his lip, the white linen tinged with crimson blood. “I will have one of my footmen deliver your belongings to Ainsley. You are no longer welcome on my estate.”

  Gwen’s shock at the finality of Sebastian’s statement caused her to turn towards her brother, “Tristan, what have you done?”

  “I am sorry, Gwen,” Tristan said, still slightly winded and struggling for each breath he inhaled. “I swear that I have been trying to right this situation.”

  Turning to Sebastian, he added, “I will make amends, I promise you.”

  “You’ve already done enough damage. Get the hell out of my house and stay the hell away from my sister,” Sebastian strode towards the door, holding it open, waiting for Tristan to leave.

  Tristan turned his attention from Sebastian to his twin, the look of anguish etched in Gwen’s knowing visage splintering his heart into thousands of sharp fragments. Tears pooled in her eyes, each one representing her disappointment and despair from his own selfish actions.