She nodded, her fingers still clutched into the sheets. Pulling away, breathing hard, Sebastian turned onto his back and drew her over his chest. Josefina kissed him hungrily as he pulled her left leg across him so she straddled his hips. Immediately understanding, she sank down onto his length, her satisfied groan nearly sending him past his slipping control.
With his hand on her hips, he showed her how to move. A moan broke from his own lips as she caught on and began lifting up and down on him. “You’re a quick study,” he said, cupping her breasts in his hands.
Josefina leaned forward and kissed him again. “I want to see you lose yourself like I did,” she panted, riding him harder.
“I can’t,” he grunted, trying to keep his eyes from rolling back in his head. “It could mean even more trouble for you.”
“Sebastian, you don’t, ah, have to be in control every moment. Oh, my. Sometimes you’re not supposed to be.”
“With you, you mean? My lack of…control where you’re…concerned is what got us into this mess to begin with.”
“Good.”
He moaned again. “Good?”
“Yes. Good.”
He would have questioned her further, but he lost the power of speech. Trying to push her off him, he fought her for another few seconds, then exploded, shuddering.
“Damnation, Josefina,” he growled when he could speak again. “Don’t you realize what might have just happened?”
She draped herself across his chest, her black hair curtaining her face from him. “Why, do you think things could get worse?”
He brushed the midnight waves back so he could see her eyes. “Yes, now they can.”
Josefina lifted her face, looking at him from inches away. “Now we’re as tangled together in here as we are out there.” She flipped a finger toward the window and London beyond.
He frowned, more angry that she’d fought him than dismayed at what might have come of her—their—actions. “And you consider that a good thing?”
Her expression sobered. “Just think of it this way. The court won’t execute a woman who’s bearing a child.” Her voice caught.
For the first time he realized how frightened she must be by what he threatened. He’d been so concerned with his own righteous indignation that he hadn’t delved into her feelings. “If you’ll trust me, I promise you that no harm will come to you.”
Josefina held his gaze for a long moment. “You don’t know everything I’ve done. And not just in England.”
“When I climbed through your window,” he murmured, “I didn’t expect to find you lying here wearing a halo and angel’s wings, Josefina. My only question is whether you’ll make the right decision this time.”
“I don’t think I have much choice,” she finally said.
“Then tell me what you know.”
Chapter 18
Josefina groaned when Conchita flung open the bedchamber curtains. “Close those at once,” she demanded, pulling the blanket over her head.
“His Majesty says you must come downstairs. The Duke of Melbourne is here.”
But he’d just left. Josefina sat up, her heart hammering madly. “What do you mean, he’s here?”
Conchita smiled. “He must be anxious to marry you, Your Highness.”
Good heavens. They were engaged. In the deliriousness of last night and earlier this morning, she’d forgotten. If they were married, they could spend every night like that. Goodness.
She scrambled out of bed, grabbing her shift off a chair and pulling it on while Conchita stood up to her elbows in the wardrobe. Considering that she had no explanation for why she’d shed her nightrail and crawled back into bed naked, avoiding the question altogether seemed the wisest course of action.
“What time is it, anyway?” she asked, frowning as Conchita held up an ornate blue gown. “Simpler. This is a morning visit; not a coronation.”
“It’s half ten,” the maid replied. “You must have been done in; I’ve never known you to sleep so late, Your Highness.”
Done in, and awake until nearly five o’clock, when Sebastian had finally climbed back out her window and slipped away. She felt sated, like a cat after a bowl full of cream. “I had a restless night,” she offered, going to the dressing table for her hairbrush.
“I think the rey did, as well. The green one?”
“Yes, that’s fine.” Josefina paused in her brushing, her heart skipping a beat. “What makes you think His Majesty also slept poorly?”
“He had Tomas up and attending him before first light, and then he spent near three hours closeted with Halloway and Orrin.” The maid sent her a sly sideways glance. “Considering who’s about to join the family, I imagine there’s a great deal of preparation to make.”
So he’d met with his cohorts about strategy, and she’d slept through it. Under the circumstances she felt grateful he hadn’t tried to wake her up to participate. She hadn’t told Sebastian everything last night, but she’d done enough—enough to enable him to stop her father or to throw the lot of them into prison.
She dressed and finished her toilette as swiftly as she could, then threw open her door and hurried downstairs to the morning room. In the open doorway she paused, relishing in the abrupt delight that coursed through her as she saw the man standing inside.
Sebastian lounged by the fireplace, a cup of tea and saucer in his hands and his gaze on her father seated beneath the window. The duke had worn brown and gray, his cravat starched and white and not a fold out of place. Even if she’d never set eyes on him before she would know that this tall, lean man with the deep gray eyes and that sensuous mouth was someone to be reckoned with.
As though sensing her in the doorway, he turned and faced her. Her heart skipped again, for an entirely different reason this time. He was glorious. And that look in his eyes, the possessiveness and the desire, that was for her.
“Good morning, Your Highness,” he said, setting his tea on the mantel and sketching a deep, formal bow. “I hope you slept well.”
Josefina held out her hand to him, hoping her father couldn’t see her fingers shaking. “Good morning, Melbourne. And yes, I slept quite well, thank you.”
He strode forward to take her fingers, bringing them to his lips. At his touch, warm desire flew just under her skin. “Good,” he murmured.
“Now that the greetings are finished with,” the rey said from his chair, “let’s settle matters, shall we?”
Sebastian turned again to face her father. “Before I set pen to paper about anything,” he said, his voice cooling, “I have several matters I want clarified.”
Her father stood. “Until you put pen to paper and sign your agreement to marry Princess Josefina, lad, I simply don’t feel comfortable discussing anything else. A monarch’s, and a father’s, prerogative, I suppose.”
“I go into nothing blind.” Before her eyes the gentle, passionate Sebastian vanished, replaced in the same instant by the implacable Duke of Melbourne. “That is my prerogative.”
“Then I will leave it to you to explain why you proposed to my daughter as a jest. Are you so mighty you think to toy with royalty and escape unscathed?”
For a moment the duke stayed silent. “The advantage I provide to your…mission is my respectability and my status,” he said quietly. “Putting me in a position where either is compromised would undo whatever it is you hope to accomplish by adding me to the equation in the first place.”
“What I hope to accomplish,” her father retorted, his tone less even than the duke’s, “is secure loans to aid my country, and settlers to do the same. That is how we arrived in England, and that is how we shall leave.” He narrowed his light blue eyes. “Anything that counters my statements is merely jealous rumor and speculation.”
“If you expect me to throw my lot in with you, you’re going to have to do better than make pronouncements.”
Her father drew himself up straighter. “You seem to be assuming, Your Grace, that I am perpetr
ating some sort of fraud. While I admit that our prospectus was partially…borrowed from other sources, that was only done in the interest of saving time better spent setting up a government.”
Heavens. He seemed so sure of himself that she could almost believe it. Did he? Had his wish to be someone important become so all-consuming that he now believed his own fantasies? Was he mad?
“I see,” Sebastian said slowly. “Perhaps I have sped to conclusions I should not have. You must tell me what I would be signing, though. I don’t think that’s an unreasonable request.”
“All I wish you to put in writing is that you will marry my daughter, making her your wife and duchess, and that you will contribute to the betterment of Costa Habichuela in your speech and writing, and by pledging us a sum of say, twenty-five thousand pounds annually.”
Josefina blinked. “Twenty-five thousand?” she gasped. “Father, that’s outrageous! It’s far too much.”
“I won’t debate Josefina’s value, but only my willingness to part with sums I could better use to support her. Five thousand a year.” Sebastian hadn’t blinked.
“Twenty.”
“Ten, or I might as well purchase my own country.”
The rey’s jaw twitched. “Ten, then.”
“And your daughter would not become a duchess,” Sebastian went on, his fingers brushing hers as he spoke. “She has a higher title, and would retain that.”
“The…” For the first time her father hesitated.
Of course he would want his daughter to have a legitimate title over a lofty invented one. Sebastian was brilliant—and yet he hadn’t wavered about the marriage, itself. Surely he knew he couldn’t marry a soldier’s daughter who routinely tricked people out of their money, even if the betrothal hadn’t been just a ruse invented to save his life.
“I was the only one declared a ruler,” the rey said a moment later, pacing to the window and back, knotting his fingers together as she’d seen him do on countless occasions when he was working through some plan or other. “Maria and Josefina’s titles are honorary. She would of course assume the title of Duchess of Melbourne upon her marriage to you.”
It sounded like complete nonsense, but Sebastian merely nodded. “Josefina’s children, then, would be noble, and not royal.”
“Yes. Correct.”
“Who will inherit your kingdom, then?”
She expected that to stump her father, but he smiled. “You will. And then you will be Sebastian Griffin, rey of Costa Habichuela. And still the Duke of Melbourne, naturally.”
“Naturally.” Sebastian regarded the rey. “I think the chasm of our differences is narrowing.”
“I’m gratified to hear that. This is a situation where all of us can do quite well for ourselves if we proceed wisely. Mine is a new monarchy. I won’t deny that of course your alliance with Josefina lends more respectability to my cause.”
“I don’t join enterprises that don’t make me money,” Sebastian returned in such a matter-of-fact tone that Josefina looked at him. “Particularly when I have concerns over the fate of British citizens. To satisfy me, you will give me both your written assurance that I will be made rey upon your death, and a guarantee that this will be profitable beyond the pittance of loan money designated, I assume, for you.”
“I can’t guarantee that,” her father retorted.
“I can, if you would allow me to advise your investments.”
“Why should I trust you to do that?”
Sebastian smiled, charming and cold at the same time. No wonder most people feared to cross him. “Because I will be a member of your family, Your Majesty. What affects you, affects me, and vice versa.”
That hit on her father’s main point in encouraging the marriage. Josefina watched him, waiting to see whether he would accept Sebastian’s offer, or whether the duke had put too neat a ribbon on the package.
“You have the reputation for being a man of honor and principle, Your Grace,” the rey said, taking a seat once more. “Pray excuse me if I find your conversion somewhat…convenient.”
The duke snorted. “‘Convenient’? It’s anything but.” He lifted an eyebrow. “It was your initial plan to involve me, was it not? Prinny said you requested that I be the one to assist you.”
“Perhaps.”
“Then I suggest you take advantage of my participation.”
Josefina held her breath. Whatever Sebastian was doing, obviously her father needed to cooperate in order for it to succeed. But was she at this moment standing by and letting Melbourne set a trap for her father that could end in his incarceration and death?
The rey held out his hand. “Agreed. With reservations.”
Sebastian shook the proffered hand. “I believe I can set your mind at ease.”
“What will set my mind at ease is seeing you standing in a church beside my daughter.”
“I require one month to make the arrangements,” Sebastian said calmly. “A duke and a princess cannot marry without ceremony. We can do without the reading of the banns, but I will have to get dispensation from Canterbury. We will have to hold an engagement ball. And as the wedding will take place at St. Paul’s, there are a limited number of dates from which to choose.”
“St. Paul’s,” her father repeated reverently. “Why not Westminster?”
Sebastian’s face stilled. “My first marriage took place at Westminster,” he said tightly, the first real emotion she’d heard from him all morning touching his voice. “This one will be at St. Paul’s, or not at all. I will not negotiate that point.”
“St. Paul’s will be lovely,” Josefina said firmly, then faced her father. “And a month between the engagement and the wedding seems very short as it is. I don’t want to give the appearance that we’re rushing anything.”
At Sebastian’s sideways glance she had to fight off a blush. After the first time she’d refused to let him leave her as he’d climaxed, it had seemed pointless for him to do so the other four times. Obviously she—they—were tempting fate, but after this disaster with her father she would be parting company from his troupe, anyway. And she would end up ostracized from Society regardless.
“Yes, you’re right, of course,” the rey agreed with clear reluctance. “I suppose I can delay everyone’s departures by an additional fortnight.”
“I believe we are in agreement, then. I’ll have my solicitor draw up the papers, and we can sign them this afternoon.”
“Very good.” Her father walked to the door. “As you two are now betrothed, I’ll leave you alone for a moment to talk.”
Her heart began pounding all over again at just the thought of spending another few moments in privacy with Sebastian. He gripped her fingers, squeezing them, and met her gaze for the briefest of seconds. Then to her surprise he let her go and walked after her father.
“We’ll have time to talk later,” he said. “If I’m to return by…” he consulted his pocket watch “…four o’clock, say, I have a great deal to do.”
The rey stood aside as Melbourne passed him, stopped in the foyer to collect his hat and gloves, and left the house. The warm parts of her chilled as the front door closed behind him. She shook herself, trying to be rid of the abrupt feeling of loneliness with which his departure had left her. He’d been trying to tell her something. What, she had no idea.
“A month before the wedding,” her father grumbled. “I don’t like it.”
“A month is still pushing the boundaries of propriety,” she said. “He couldn’t make it sooner than that. And neither could we.”
“Yes, yes, I know. But it gives him too much time.”
“Time for what?” she asked, keeping her voice as calm as she could. “To change his mind? He’s putting the agreement in writing. Melbourne would never risk crying off after that.”
“That’s not what troubles me. He’s up to something. My guess is that he means to have me give over all of the loan money to him for investment, at which time he’ll seize the funds and at
tempt to expose me.” He smiled. “Well, I have a surprise for him. He’s not getting a single penny.”
Oh, dear. “If he’s trying to trap you, he’ll be suspicious if you don’t go along with his plans.”
Her father stroked his moustache. “Yes, he will be. Excuse me, Josefina. I have a few things to mull over.”
“Of course, Father.”
She sank into a chair as he left the room. A disaster. It was all a disaster, and she was directly in the middle of it. Sebastian suspected her father, her father suspected Sebastian, and each thought she was on his side. “Damnation,” she muttered under her breath.
If she had someone to talk to, someone with whom she could reason things through, this would have been so much easier. But she knew of no one in whom she could confide. The only women she’d begun to consider friends were Sebastian’s sisters, and they would be on his side. Her mother, or Conchita, even, would both side with their own survival, which meant they would support her father. As for the men in her life, they were even more polarized.
Sebastian had warned her this would happen. The middle ground was fast disappearing, and she needed to choose a side. Legally, morally, the Duke of Melbourne held the high ground. Siding with her father, though, gave her two things—a chance at escape from prosecution, and something that had become absurdly important over the past day: marriage to Sebastian.
Her happiness weighed against the safety of several hundred naive, gullible settlers. It hardly seemed fair. It wasn’t fair. And yet she supposed she truly only had herself to blame for being in the position of having to choose.
Josefina drew in a ragged, shaking breath, then headed upstairs to change into something more appropriate for making social calls. Safety was the most she could hope for, because people who’d made the choices that she had didn’t get to ask for or expect more. Even if that one thing she truly, deeply, stupidly wanted was love.
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