A Promise of More

by Bronwen Evans

  “I don’t see how a shot fired from your gun could have lodged in Doogie’s back. He had fallen forward on the ground, which indicated to me that he never turned his back to you. The shooter was behind Lord Larkwell.”

  Sebastian heard Beatrice’s sigh and he could visibly see her shoulders relax and all the tension drain from her body. That must have been what she was worried about this morning, and why she was so quiet. She’d been concerned at what the surgeon was going to reveal. She only had his word that there had been something suspicious about Doogie’s death.

  “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you so much, Dr. Taylor. That has taken a weight off my mind. I didn’t want to think the worst of my husband, as you can imagine.”

  “Of course, my dear. I must say that it is all rather unusual. I think you should take my file to the magistrate. There is some mischief been done against your brother, Lady Coldhurst; someone obviously wanted him dead in a most dishonorable way. As to Lord Coldhurst …”

  Beatrice made to open her mouth, but Sebastian squeezed her hand in warning. The fewer people involved in their business, the better. It hadn’t been Doogie Hennessey they were trying to hurt, it had been him, and he would rather the world didn’t know that just yet. Sebastian rose from his seat.

  He reached out and shook Dr. Taylor’s hand, saying, “That would be very kind. We would like to see the file and have a chance to study it before we take it further. I’m sure you must understand that we don’t want this to be public knowledge. If someone was out to hurt Lord Larkwell, we need to ensure that Beatrice and any other of her family are not in danger. So discretion would be advised.”

  Dr. Taylor nodded vigorously. “Of course, my lord.” He hesitated for a moment before adding, “If there is anything I can do, please let me know. I’ve kept the bullet. Would you like to have that as well?”

  Sebastian noted Beatrice’s slight shudder out of the corner of his eye. “That could be useful too, thank you.”

  They took leave of Dr. Taylor, and Sebastian cautioned Beatrice not to say anything until they were safely in the carriage. No sooner had she sat down than he noted the tears streaming down her face. He took his handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it over to her.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m crying.”

  “It’s because you realize the futility of Doogie’s death. Because of me, your brother is dead.” Guilt rushed at him like the incoming tide.

  “Not because of you. You are completely innocent in this affair. It is some warped and evil person who’s playing a deadly game with many people’s lives. The sooner we get to the bottom of this, the better.”

  Beatrice wasn’t just upset about her brother’s death, she was petrified that whoever had tried to frame Sebastian would try again, and then someone else might be hurt or even killed. Perhaps Sebastian might die.

  The thought of losing Sebastian startled her. She suddenly realized she was pleased he was her husband, and that she would be upset if anything did happen to him. She also thought about his sisters. They were young, innocent, beautiful girls, and if someone wanted to hurt Sebastian, they could be targets.

  “You need to ensure your sisters’ safety,” Beatrice blurted out.

  She saw Sebastian’s jawline tighten. “Yes, that had occurred to me. The girls aren’t going to like being shadowed all the time, and we may have to curtail some of this season’s engagements. Marisa will be disappointed. At least, until we can work out who is behind the threats.”

  “Perhaps it would be better if the girls and I moved to your country estate for a while.”

  Sebastian looked at her suspiciously. “Is that your way of telling me you want to leave me already?”

  She felt heat invade her face. “No, of course not. I was just thinking of the safety of everyone concerned. Plus, I thought you might like me to be absent from London for a while.”

  “Are you voicing that sentiment because I didn’t come to your bed last night?” At her silence he continued. “I was merely thinking of you. It had been a long day and you were very tired.” He raised one perfect eyebrow. “Contrary to popular opinion, I can go without a woman for one night.”

  A woman. She wanted to know if he could do without her for one night—or many nights. “I thought I might have been a disappointment to you, and that the thought of sharing my bed was not something you would miss.”

  “I think we dispelled that myth on the carriage ride here.” He rose and crossed to sit next to her, cupping her face in his palm. “You are a very desirable woman and I lay awake for hours longing to come to you.”

  She didn’t know what to think of that. He was such a smooth seducer. “Then why didn’t you?”

  He opened his mouth but said nothing before his mouth closed, his lips firming, matching his frown. He looked deeply into her eyes and she could actually see the hunger for her reflected there.

  “I want to be honest but I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “It hurts more not understanding.”

  “I don’t want you to think this marriage could become more than it already is. I want to ensure that neither of us misreads the situation. I think we need to remember our plan. Respect, admiration, and friendship. That is what will make this marriage successful. It can never be more, for I won’t allow it.”

  “I see. We certainly wouldn’t want that to happen, now would we?” She didn’t really know what to think about how Sebastian wanted this marriage to work. From speaking with Marisa, she quickly understood a bit more about why Sebastian feared love. He was afraid of strong emotions. He hid from them, avoiding them at all costs. His parents were to blame. But she couldn’t relate to the idea of someone loving another person too much. How could love ever be bad?

  Her parents’ marriage had been the complete opposite. They had had no feelings for each other at all, and in the end the lack of feelings had made sharing the same home almost impossible.

  Perhaps Sebastian’s version of marriage should not be discounted. If friendship could be maintained, they would have a much more successful marriage than her parents. But a little part of her, the small organ beating in her chest, wished for one moment that there could be more.

  The image of Christian smiling down at his new wife made her chest ache.

  Silly girl. Be thankful for what you have. It’s much more than a spinster of your years and dowry deserves.

  A man like Sebastian Hawkestone, Marquis of Coldhurst, was never going to fall in love with Henpeck Hennessey.

  But she could dream …

  Chapter Nine

  Their planned afternoon delight never eventuated. Arend was waiting for them when they returned from visiting the doctor, and the two men left to talk with Doogie’s second.

  It was a grim-faced Sebastian who arrived back before dinner. Doogie’s second had disappeared. Some thought he’d gone on his continental tour, others that he’d gone to his estate in Scotland.

  However, he’d not been seen since Doogie’s duel, and Sebastian feared the man had been silenced.

  Another bloody dead end; everything seemed to be going against them.

  Worse still, Beatrice had to face her first ball tonight.

  They all met in the drawing room before dinner. Sebastian looked utterly magnificent in his formfitting black cutaway coat and white satin breeches. His thick, dark hair was a dashing contrast to the stark white of his linen cravat, while the silver threads in his white brocade waistcoat matched the silver of her gown.

  After a few drinks, the conversation flowed easily between them all.

  Marisa was excited, of course, to be going to the ball, while Helen was disappointed that she still wasn’t old enough to come.

  Aunt Alison made a point of telling Beatrice how beautiful she looked. “I knew the silver would be perfect for you. Is she not beautiful, Sebastian?”

  His eyes swept her from head to toe, and it was as if his hands were caressing her body. “She looks exquisite,” he said so
ftly.

  She didn’t believe him for one moment, of course. She had never been a beauty. She was too sensible to flirt and preen with men. Too concerned with watching what her brother did and ensuring that he didn’t get into more trouble than necessary. However, she caught Marisa’s wink and knew she was looking the prettiest she ever would. She mouthed “Thank you” to Marisa when no one was looking.

  “We will be meeting the other Libertine Scholars at the ball tonight, apart from Christian and Serena. They have remained in Dorset to ensure the rumor of his demise continues. Please make sure you stay where one of us can see you at all times.”

  Sebastian spoke little to her on the carriage ride to the ball. Marisa was more than happy to fill the void, prattling all the latest society gossip of who was pursuing whom. However, Sebastian’s silence only heightened her riveting awareness of him. It was all she could do to disguise her longing, yet she was determined to maintain her normal composure.

  Her plan to seduce her husband was progressing as well as she’d hoped. She counted their liaison during the carriage ride earlier today a success; however, she refused to get her hopes up just because he’d wanted her so badly then. She kept reminding herself that all he wanted from the relationship was her respect and friendship. It was going to be a long journey if she was to earn his love.

  She intended to seduce her husband, and she would begin by leveraging their shared heated carnal desires.

  When they arrived at their destination, there was a short wait as carriages lined up before the entrance, and a longer one before they were greeted in the receiving line by Lord and Lady Wickham and their son Charles. Lady Wickham only just hid her surprise at Sebastian’s announcement of his wife, and Lord Wickham merely looked bored.

  The ball was evidently a success, for the room was filled with animated guests and the harmonic strains of music. Beatrice felt tension forming in the pit of her stomach, but she was determined to take her own advice. The best way to foil the gossipmongers was to hold her head high and ignore their disapproval. It wasn’t every day that a woman married her brother’s killer.

  The ton seemed to take the announcement of Sebastian’s marriage with a collective gasp. However, she had had abundant practice, certainly, at being the brunt of the town’s dishumor.

  Sebastian, however, should have been on the stage. He made it apparent through his words, gestures, and doting expression that he was pleased with the match. He stayed by her side for the initial half hour, ensuring she was introduced to the people he knew would be the most kind, and he insisted on leading her out for the first dance.

  “Smile, Beatrice. We are supposed to be showing the ton how happy we are with our arrangement.”

  “I am happy with our arrangement. I just hate that everyone thinks you killed Doogie. When do you think we will be able to tell the truth?”

  He smiled slowly into her eyes. “Not until we have further proof. Not until we understand who is trying to discredit us all.”

  His pointed interest in her was for the benefit of the other guests; she understood that. Despite her being the sister of the man he had killed, her husband was a marquis and not a man to annoy. Soon the talk and twitter began to die down.

  Her heart raced as she stared up at Sebastian. He was sensual, vital, with a lethal charm that made him irresistible. Even if his attentiveness was a pretense, she couldn’t deny its powerful effect. She was disappointed when the waltz came to an end.

  Sebastian escorted her back to his aunt and Marisa, then excused himself as he went to find Lord Fullerton.

  Once Sebastian left her side, the first ball as husband and wife turned out exactly as Beatrice had feared. They were the talk of the ton. Most people didn’t even try to hide their sniggers behind a polite façade. Some of the women were sympathetic to her plight, understanding very well why she had agreed to marry Sebastian. Others were just darn nasty about the whole arrangement.

  What made her situation worse was that within minutes of Sebastian’s taking himself off to the cardroom to meet with Hadley Fullerton, the stares turned mocking. She was left to stand with Marisa and her aunt and act as if everything were rosy.

  “Chin up, my girl,” Aunt Alison said. “Walk through the ball as if you do not have a care in the world, and have a smile on your face so everyone thinks you are deliriously happy with your match.”

  “I am happy.”

  It was hard to ignore the comments, though.

  “I always knew she was a clever girl. Beatrice has used her brother’s death to her advantage.”

  “Hasn’t she just. But I wonder how long Lord Coldhurst will take before he forces her to his country estate and resumes his bachelor life in town.”

  Beatrice tried to ignore the comments, but as she, Marisa, and Aunt Alison wandered further into the ballroom, she admitted to herself that the words hurt. She wanted to scream out and tell these people that Sebastian hadn’t really killed her brother, and that he was more than happy with their arrangement.

  “I would never have imagined he would have looked twice at her if it weren’t for the fact he killed her brother.”

  And the comments kept on coming. Worse still, she spied her husband across the ballroom. He was now talking to Lady Christina, the beautiful widow whom everyone knew he had been having a liaison with prior to having to flee England. Had he been contemplating marrying her?

  The woman draped over her husband caught Beatrice’s eye, not only because she was stunningly beautiful, but because Sebastian didn’t appear to be pushing her away.

  Aunt Alison leaned close and whispered in her ear. “She is of no importance to you. Sebastian has never been serious about Lady Christina Rossiter.”

  Marisa must have overheard the comment, because she added, “Lady Christina made an utter fool of herself last year, pursuing Sebastian after he ended their liaison.”

  Ended the liaison? Beatrice’s heart gave an extra thump. From where she stood, it seemed Lady Christina Rossiter was intent on renewing that liaison.

  Suddenly too warm in the heat of the ballroom, and needing a respite from looking at her husband flirting outrageously with the most beautiful woman at the ball, Beatrice slipped through the open French doors, out onto the terrace. The spring night air was cool on her flushed skin, the scene peaceful, with the moon a huge, brilliant disc, bathing the landscape below. Yet even the garden’s moonlit beauty couldn’t calm the turmoil of her thoughts.

  Did trust and respect in a marriage mean that he would be true to his marriage vows? Before she married, she thought she would be glad if her husband took a mistress. She hadn’t expected to enjoy the marriage bed.

  Men of the ton always took mistresses, and she thought a mistress would save her from having to suffer her husband’s attentions. But she had never had to suffer Sebastian’s attentions. She welcomed his attentions. His lovemaking gave her so much pleasure she looked forward to sharing herself with her husband again and again.

  She pondered for a while on the difficult question of their future together. She bit her lip. Perhaps when the newness of their joining wore off, Sebastian would send her off to his country estate and seek an arrangement with a woman like Lady Christina.

  Fool. You’re a goddamn fool.

  She inwardly broke into hysterical laughter. If a woman like Lady Christina couldn’t win Sebastian’s heart, she had no hope at all. She hung her head and gave in to defeat. She felt tears well in her eyes and the pain in her chest sharpened.

  She stood there for a few moments wallowing in misery, until anger dulled the pain and straightened her back. She was his wife. His wife. She was not about to let some immoral woman take away her chance at love. She wasn’t about to let anyone steal what she deserved. What her children deserved.

  She had a plan. It might not be a brilliant plan, but it could work. The gap between Sebastian and her had shortened this morning. She could feel it.

  Her battered pride fortified, she reentered the ballroom
.

  Beatrice was pleased the ballroom overflowed with patrons. The crush made it easy to stay hidden within the crowd. But she soon found she was hiding in a fishbowl, as everywhere she looked, people were staring. The ton was fascinated and aghast that Sebastian had married Doogie Hennessey’s spinster sister. All eyes were upon her, and she had never felt more out of place or more uncomfortable.

  Thankfully, Marisa spied her and made her way to Beatrice’s side. The girl gave her a wan smile and said, “I must admit your presence here tonight is causing quite a stir.”

  Her face flamed at Marisa’s words. She kept a watchful eye from the sidelines while everyone else pretended, with little skill, that they were not talking about her.

  “I suppose it is to be expected,” she said. “It’s not every day a man marries the sister of the man he killed in a duel. The gossips are having a field day.”

  Marisa linked her arm through hers and smiled. “Then we must show everyone how very happy with this arrangement the family is.” She looked at Beatrice quizzically. “You are happy with the arrangement, aren’t you? I know my brother can seem a bit intimidating at times, but he has a soft heart.”

  “Your brother has been nothing but kind to me. I have no complaints at all about the marriage. It is a marriage based on trust and respect.”

  Marisa patted her hand and continued to look out over the crowd. “I knew you would be sensible. Neither Sebastian nor myself want a love match. Love burns fiery and bright, and jealousy seems to fuel it.”

  “Well, I can assure you there is nothing about me that would arouse jealousy in anyone.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Marisa looked her up and down. “You are very beautiful, Beatrice. Has no one ever told you so?”

  She gave a small grimace. “I don’t think anyone sees past the nickname Henpeck Hennessey.”

  She watched Marisa’s face flood with color. “I’m so sorry,” the girl said. “Sebastian has explained what your brother did and how he was going through the family money as if it were apple cider. I think I would have been a henpeck too if I had to watch my brother flitter away our livelihood.”