“Then I suppose you will be happy with each other,” William said harshly.
Sebastian blinked, startled at the force of William’s anger. “Do you think it so plausible Bonaparte might attack?”
“I don’t know if he will.” William sighed. “Our navy, thank heavens, is strong, though France is not far away. If they did manage a sneak attack, they would demolish us. There is little protection at all against the French on land. They might march straight through. And they would start in Sussex.”
“Or Kent.”
“Yes,” William conceded. “Perhaps they would go to Kent first.”
Sebastian leaned against the pagoda wall. William’s opinion was influenced by his recent time spent fighting in India, in part, because his generals worried France might gain undue influence if the British were to leave. To him, France would be a heavy threat indeed. “Perhaps you are correct.”
“I most certainly am.”
“When I spoke to Sir Ambrose, he rather inspired me to go to Sussex.”
“Sir Ambrose is hardly a trustworthy source of information.” The words came out tersely.
Sebastian tensed again in the silence, shaken by William’s conviction.
“You’ll be married soon,” William said.
He gazed at him, letting his eyes linger over the curves of his face. Sebastian fought the urge to trace his fingers over the faint stubble on his chin.
A Haydn quartet streamed from an open window and reminded Sebastian that he should return to the festivities.
Sebastian closed his eyes. He should have grown out of these urges. He had led himself to believe that he simply formed emotional attachments to men from time to time because he tended to be surrounded by men. He had been so isolated in Yorkshire after Henrietta died, and so consumed in raising Charlie for those first couple of years that he had managed to ignore these thoughts and emotions. His mind returned consistently to admire men, an admiration that extended to the physical. His eyes lingered naturally on their forms. He could no longer deny that.
He swallowed. William regarded him intently. What was he thinking?
“Did you want to speak to me about anything else?” William asked.
Sebastian gazed into William’s eyes. There were so many things he wanted to say, so many questions in his mind. Had William ever kissed a man? Just because William had seemed familiar with the molly house in Brighton did not mean he frequented it. Though it did seem very likely.
“Was there nothing else?” William repeated.
Sebastian shook his head.
“No?”
“Well.” He inhaled, not possessing sufficient courage to speak to William. He must not forget Dorothea. “I thought perhaps, since your father is unable, you might give a speech.”
“A speech?” William’s jaw clenched.
“Well, just an introduction. For Dorothea. She would be appreciative. I am sure.”
William flinched.
The pain on William’s face was unmistakable. Sebastian should never have made the suggestion
“No? Well, it is not required for you to say anything. Forgive me, I should not have asked you.”
“Nonsense. I’m happy to give a toast.” William’s voice cracked. “I’m fond of my sister. Was there anything in particular you wanted me to say?”
Sebastian shook his head. William sat so near, too near, blurring the world around him. His mind was distracted by the nearness of William’s body. Which was precisely what he should not concentrate on. He opened and closed his mouth, but nothing came out.
William smirked. Sebastian noticed even in the moonlight. “You’re smiling.”
“I’m not smiling.”
“You are too,” Sebastian protested. William could be most difficult sometimes.
“You may have amused me,” William said. “The way you watch me sometimes. It just—never mind.”
Nothing about the explanation reassured him. Had he looked at William in an inappropriate manner? Did William guess? He hesitated to think of the word sodomite, pushing the term from his mind. He did not see himself as depraved, but was that not how his vicar would describe his urges? The government executed sodomites. He ran his hand through his hair and leaned back against the bench. The scene in front of him fogged, the trees and plants melding together in distortion.
“What’s wrong?” William leaned over in concern, his dark eyes flashing.
“I—”
The sound of moaning, coming from behind a bush in the garden, interrupted him.
Sebastian straightened, relieved to focus his attentions on something else.
“Somebody is taking advantage of the seclusion,” William said, his voice tinged with amusement.
“Indeed.” Sebastian looked around, but he could not see anyone. “Perhaps we should tell Caroline. It may be one of the debutantes.”
“It is one of the debutantes. Married people do not do such things. They possess beds in their homes for such purposes.”
“Oh.” Sebastian wondered again if he should call his cousin. As hostess, she was responsible for the well-being of her guests.
“Let them have their enjoyment,” William said, as if reading his thoughts. “Who knows when they will have a chance to meet each other in private again? Can you not imagine being tempted by lust?”
That was exactly what Sebastian did imagine. He gazed at William. His lips parted.
The moans, interspersed with panting, continued, growing in volume.
Sebastian tugged at his cravat, embarrassed at the sound. William eyed him curiously again.
“Are you sure you want to marry my sister?”
Sebastian stiffened. Was William teasing him, using him to play the brotherly role? Was he going to report back to Dorothea? If only William were not Dorothea’s brother.
“I am happy with your sister.” He shifted under William’s steady gaze. “I can provide for her with ease.”
“Forgive me. I did not mean to question your suitability.”
Sebastian turned to William, whose eyes, steady and serious, lacked any trace of humor. “It’s my duty.”
“Enough talk of duty. Please. There is no need.”
A twig snapped, and they turned. A woman slipped back into the ballroom, rearranging her tousled hair. Everything was still in the garden. A cotillion played from an open window. A few minutes later, another woman followed. Sebastian’s eyes widened in shock.
“Two debutantes, then.” William’s lip curled.
Sebastian coughed. “When we went to Brighton the other day, and the man came up . . .” He stopped, not wanting to hurt William. “Do men, do some men really—”
“You want to know if men can be with men?” William’s mouth curved in amusement.
Shame filled Sebastian. He had just given William an interesting anecdote for an engagement toast. William did not give the appearance of a man contemplating ludicrous jokes for a speech, and his eyes rested once again upon Sebastian.
“You are quite innocent.” William stroked his chin.
Sebastian did not know what to say. He supposed he was. His only experience had been with Henrietta, and that had neither lasted long nor been memorable.
“Why didn’t you remarry before now?”
Sebastian shrugged. “Henrietta’s death came so suddenly that I was distraught. She did not deserve to die.”
“And other women?”
Sebastian’s heart stopped. Should he confess he had little interest in them? Would that be ungallant?
Perhaps William read something in his unease, for he smiled at Sebastian. “You need not say anything.”
Something about William’s beauty . . . Sebastian lowered his eyes, worried he had been quite openly staring.
William leaned closer to Sebastian, his voice low and seductive. “Have you practiced your wedding dance?”
Sebastian stared at him.
“I’m an excellent dancer,” William said confidently.
&nbs
p; Sebastian’s chest clenched, and his legs weakened. “I trust you do not mean to volunteer your services.”
William grinned and slid his arm along the bench behind Sebastian’s shoulder. “I’m here for whatever you require,” he whispered. “You deserve to be happy.”
Sebastian’s heart thrashed in his chest, as if it sensed the presence of William’s arm, even though William did not touch him,
“I can assure you, though, of one thing.”
“What?” Sebastian drew his eyes back up to William.
“Men can most certainly be with men; it’s only society that does not condone the practice. Do you not remember learning about how common it was in Ancient Greece?”
Sebastian lowered his head. He remembered the clusters of people entering the molly house in Brighton. That so many men might long for the touch of another man, that there were actual businesses to cater to their needs confounded him. He crossed his arms. “It’s illegal.”
William removed his hand.
“Have you ever . . .” Sebastian stammered, torn by a fear of the question being presumptuous but desperate to know the answer.
“Have I what?” William closed his eyes and inhaled.
“Kissed a man?”
William’s eyes widened, and heat rushed to Sebastian’s face. “Forgive me,” Sebastian stammered. “I should not have asked. It was unpardonable.”
“Well.” William rose and rubbed his brow. “It’s not a question one hears often at parties.”
Sebastian’s heart raced, and he lifted his eyes as William paced the tiny pagoda.
“I think you already know,” William said softly before scanning the abandoned garden. He cursed and muttered, “I may be mad. But you may marry soon and I need—”
He gazed into Sebastian’s eyes. Sebastian’s spine tingled as William leaned near, raised a finger, and brushed it against Sebastian’s face. The world stopped as William traced the curve of his jaw. Sebastian thought he heard footsteps and stiffened. The sound soon vanished, evidently belonging solely to his imagination, and with a small moan, he relaxed into William’s touch.
“Men can do this.” William grabbed hold of Sebastian’s hand and pulled him up.
Sebastian held his breath at the contact between them. His fingers tingled.
“Men can do this.” William wrapped his arms around him and guided their bodies close.
Warmth inundated him as William’s fingers grasped his waist to pull him closer. His heart pounded inside his chest.
“And men can do this.” William’s eyes softened, and he leaned his head toward him. This is it. William closed the distance between them until his head filled Sebastian’s vision. Warm, soft lips pressed to the side of Sebastian’s neck, and he gasped as William’s mouth trailed up to his ear.
His fingers ached, and then suddenly, his hands were upon William, touching the coarse texture of the coat.
William’s lips pulled on his earlobe, and Sebastian shivered as the stubble on William’s chin brushed against him. He inhaled, overwhelmed with the sensation of having William so near.
“And finally,” William continued, “men can do this.” He moved his mouth down Sebastian’s cheek, and Sebastian lifted his head, frozen as William kissed him roughly, this time on the lips. The world ended; no normalcy could exist after this.
Pleasure jolted through his body, and he grew warm and light-headed.
William’s tongue played on the edge of his lips, and his knees quivered as William probed farther into his mouth. William moaned, and Sebastian clutched him tighter against him, floating. They stood together, wrapped around each other, the shadows of the pagoda shielding them.
Slowly William removed himself from Sebastian. First he dropped his hands to his sides, and Sebastian shivered at the lack of contact, suppressing the urge to touch him again. Then William stepped back. “Forgive me.”
Sebastian nodded, afraid to meet William’s eyes. Would they mock? Was this just a schoolboy game, the kind he had heard rumors of but which he had never himself witnessed? Sebastian did not think so, but he feared looking at William all the same.
“I should go inside,” he said. “The engagement will be announced soon. You don’t have to give a speech.”
He fled from the garden before William could respond, his emotions racing. He blinked, striving to keep his breath steady as he returned to the ballroom. His body ached to return to William, but the impossibility of any future with him loomed before him, followed by an alarming thought: Had someone observed them? He hurried, dizzily, into the townhouse.
Chapter Nine
William paced the breakfast room, his impatience mounting. The startled servants had hurriedly made a fire and laid out bread and tea when he came down early. A scattering of ashes, overlooked by the housemaid in her haste, sullied the fireplace.
His thoughts returned to Sebastian. This was just what he did not want to happen. Falling for a man on the verge of marrying his sister. Of all the men in the world, why must he long for him so much?
That kiss . . . so passionate. And Sebastian’s response to the kiss indicated he felt similarly. The man had moaned and clutched at him, like a diver discovering oxygen after being trapped in a cave.
William’s heart twisted. Even if Sebastian did desire him, he had fled the garden as if he detested him.
Maybe Sebastian did detest him. Maybe he shouldn’t have instigated the kiss.
He was tired of dreaming of Sebastian. That kiss. What had it meant? He would need to find out. Before Sebastian moved to Sussex, and most certainly before he married his sister.
Purposeful strides clicked across the hardwood floor. He turned, bracing himself. Dorothea planned to meet Lady Reynolds in the morning, and likely she was up in preparation for her meeting.
His sister strode into the room. Her face flickered for a moment when she saw him. She spoke with composure, and her tone was light. “How rare to find you here at this time. It’s eight o’clock.”
“Yet you look impeccable.” William nodded at her tangerine morning dress and kissed her hand. “You always do.”
Dorothea sighed. “As do you.”
William contemplated his outfit. Perhaps the mathematical tie had been extreme. “I struggled to sleep.”
“Me too.” Dorothea’s smile seemed sad, and William stretched out his hand to comfort her.
She averted her eyes and sat down.
William returned his hand to his side and pressed his lips together, pretending she had not just avoided him. “Did you enjoy the festivities last night? Are you happy to be engaged?”
“Of course I am. That’s why I accepted the duke’s proposal.”
William rested his fingers on the table, unsure what he wanted to say. “Are you certain you want to marry him? Perhaps you want to search longer . . .”
“I don’t need to search longer. Given your habits, you wouldn’t understand.”
Heat rushed to his cheeks, and he shot her a piercing look. Surely she did not suspect his inclinations?
They had spent ample time playing together as children but almost none since he left for Harrow. He had entered the army directly from school.
Dorothea frowned. “You should marry soon.”
“I’m too young to marry. You know that. I’m only twenty-five.”
“Sebastian married for the first time when he was younger than you.”
William sighed. “He did.”
From his responsiveness to the kiss last night, William thought Sebastian had rushed into his marriage, eager to prove he was something he should never have pretended to be.
“Why must you enter a marriage in such haste? Other men are available. And you should still be in mourning.”
Dorothea flushed. “The requisite period has passed; Gregory and I never married. I can assure you I am grieving, but I do not like being alone. I’m ready to become a mother.” She paused. “I’m ready to become a duchess.”
“Then you ca
n go about the ton setting up matches with the authority of the dear dowager.” He sighed. “Listen to you. You sound so desperate to join the haut monde!”
“Because I must be! Not all of us can buy an officer’s commission for eight hundred pounds and spend the rest of the time traveling.”
“War is work.”
“Of course it is, but please refrain from judging my choices. Your options are not my options.”
William cringed. He was acting irrationally, driven by thoughts of Sebastian. The meeting with his sister was proceeding horribly. They had enjoyed such pleasant times together as children. What had happened? Every time he returned on visits, she seemed more changed. She chatted more about clothes and men. William did not have anything against talking about either of those things, but he was not allowed to talk about them in the same way as she. So he did not. And they grew farther apart. “I left you too long. I should have visited more.”
“Perhaps.” Dorothea directed her eyes away from him. “I doubt you’ve ever formed an attachment.”
William did not understand what had prompted this mood. He sighed. “Perhaps you imagine me going off with every harlot in town.”
“That’s not what I think.” Dorothea stiffened. “I do wonder how I am on my second engagement and you have never even been linked to anyone.”
“You needn’t concern yourself with that.” William shuddered at the prospect of his sister discovering his secret.
He refused to explain that women would never appeal to him, or that his occasional tumbles in molly houses made him feel more alive than fighting in war ever had, even as they made him feel conflicted and made him despise himself for being so intimate with strangers.
It was, after all, against the law. Men hanged for doing such things, though not often. Lately it only happened when somebody raped another person.
“Are you saying you disapprove of Sebastian?” Her eyes held a meaningful look.
“Sebastian is a good man.” William ignored the fact that he might have a better chance of stopping the marriage if he told her of some faults. But the only things which came to his mind were inappropriate acts he wanted to do to Sebastian. Blast. He did not want to destroy the marriage. What if Sebastian loved his sister? He had fled the garden after the kiss after all.
The Duke in Denial (Scandal in Sussex Book 1) Page 10
