Retribution (Sebastian Trilogy Book 3)

by Rosen, Janey

  “You have fabulous hair.” Tanya is blow-drying me to within an inch of my life. “Shall we put it up?”

  “Definitely. It’s a masked ball so I’m hoping you can achieve the impossible. Lots of ringlets, and volume. Scoop it up and let some tumble down over one shoulder, please.” I gesticulate with my hands in the hope that Tanya grasps the concept I’m explaining. She coos excitedly and sets to work with a curling wand while a trainee files and paints my nails in dark crimson gloss.

  “Wow.” Tanya holds a mirror so that I can have a good view of my hair from all angles. She’s done an incredible job. Two glossy blonde curls trail down over my left shoulder, resembling snakes. The snakes twist and turn before slithering under the collar of my pale pink cotton shirt and disappearing beneath the lace of my bra.

  “I’m not worried,” I reassure Tanya. “They’re friendly snakes, they’re part of me.”

  Scarlett looks smug. I hate that the hair salon told her about my snakes, when she came to collect me. Now she thinks I’m crazy, just as Tanya thought I was crazy. My hair looks good and I won’t let Scarlett spoil my day. She wants me to be crazy but I’m not giving her the satisfaction. We drive home in silence but as we pass the gates to Penmorrow I turn to her.

  “About our conversation, Scarlett.” Her face pales and she bites her lip, looking so damned vulnerable. “You agreed to go after my party. I’d like confirmation that you are going tomorrow. I haven’t seen you moving any of your things yet.”

  Her eyes mist with tears but remain focused on the road ahead. “His Lordship has told me that I can find another job and a place to live first.”

  “He said that, did he?” I ask bitterly. “Well, you and I had an agreement, and that was that you would leave tomorrow. As far as I’m concerned, that agreement still stands. You may think me hard, Scarlett, but there is no point in putting off the inevitable.”

  “I see, Mrs. Dove. I’ll speak to His Lordship again.” Damn her! The minute she weeps to Sebastian he will be putty in her hands. Hopefully I can talk to him first.

  “No, Scarlett,” I say resolutely. “An agreement is an agreement and I expect you to honour ours.”

  She turns her head sufficiently to look at me and, fleetingly, I see pure hatred in her eyes before she casts her gaze back to the lane ahead.

  “Ruth!” Throwing the car door open even before Scarlett cuts the engine, I race to my friend and hold her tightly. “You have no idea how good it is to see you,” I tell her and I mean it. I really do.

  “Beth, love. Look at you. You look beautiful. A little thin and pale but stunning as ever. I hate you,” she teases. “Happy birthday, love.”

  “I’m so glad you’re here for my party.” Linking arms, we walk into the house together. “The caterers are busy making the food and Sebastian’s hired staff to set things up and serve this evening,” I tell Ruth excitedly. “Meaning all we need to do is enjoy ourselves.”

  “Ah, here’s the birthday girl.” Sebastian greets us in the hall. “Ruth, darling. How are you?” He kisses both of her cheeks and I note how she blushes. You still have a way with the ladies, don’t you De Montfort?

  “Sebastian. The house looks amazing. It’s good to see you’ve gone to so much trouble for my best girl’s special day.” Ruth lightly punches his arm playfully.

  He arches his brow and grins at her. “She’s my best girl too, remember,” he replies, pretending to rub his arm better.

  “I see she’s still working here.” Ruth glares at Scarlett as she follows us into the house. Scarlett, ignoring Ruth, whispers in Sebastian’s ear conspiratorially. I feel the hairs prickle on the nape of my neck.

  “Excuse me, ladies, Scarlett wants a quick word. Elizabeth, why don’t you show Ruth to her room.” He turns and heads for his study, with Scarlett scurrying after him.

  “Has she said any more?” Ruth asks quietly as we take her bags to the guest bedroom.

  “She’s agreed to go. I said she could stay until the party and then she’s history.”

  “Wow, how did you manage that?” she asks incredulously as she glances appreciatively at her opulent room. Ruth places her overnight bag on the floor and takes the dress bag from me, laying it carefully on the chaise at the foot of her bed.

  “I’ve won, Ruth. She can see she’s no match for me. Mind you, I’m not sure how Sebastian is really taking it. I’m hoping that’s not what she’s talking to him about now. She’s so manipulative. I don’t want her putting him in a foul mood before the party.”

  “You think she’ll try to talk him into letting her stay?” Ruth throws herself down onto the queen-sized bed and pats the purple velvet comforter, indicating to me to join her. Adjusting the multitude of cushions and pillows, we get comfortable side by side.

  “I have no doubt she will try. We have finally reached an agreement about her going after I gave him an ultimatum…me or her. What concerns me is that she’ll prolong it, get him to agree to her staying longer with some sob story about having nowhere else to go.”

  “Stick to your guns, Beth. He’s clearly infatuated with you so use that. He won’t want to lose you so you have to toughen up and insist she sticks to the agreement and struts her scrawny arse out of here pronto.”

  “Uh-huh, you’re right. It’s just that he has a weak spot when it comes to her. She plays the vulnerability card and has him wrapped around her little finger.”

  Ruth frowns, her contempt for Scarlett very apparent. “I spoke to DI Chambers about her,” she says, catching my eye to gauge my reaction.

  My eyes widen. “You did? What did you say to him? Shit, you didn’t tell me you’d actually spoken to him.”

  “He asked how you and Bella are, sent his kind regards. I told him about Scarlett and what she’d said to you. He said he’d try to look at the notes from Sebastian’s wife’s suicide, and also see if there was anything listed for Scarlett, but other than that there’s little he can do unless you file some restraining order.”

  “I’ve got no proof though, Ruth. She’ll deny everything and you know how frail and pathetic she looks—hardly your standard murderer. It’s my word against hers. I tell you this much, though, I don’t trust her. The sooner she leaves here the better I’ll feel.”

  “Speaking of which, you actually look like shit. I was being polite earlier.” Ruth ducks as my hand swats at her in protestation. “How long have you been unwell?” She places the back of her hand on my forehead and frowns. “You haven’t got a temperature, Beth. A virus, you say?”

  “I presume so, yes. I’ve been seeing things—weird things—and Scarlett said I had a fever.”

  “That’s strange. You don’t seem clammy or sick although you do look pale and you’ve got big dark circles under your eyes. Anyway, I’m here now and I’m going to see that you enjoy your birthday.” She pulls me into a tight embrace.

  “Thanks so much.” I squeeze her tightly. “What would I do without you?”

  “Elizabeth.” Sebastian stands in the doorway watching me. His face bears a grim expression, coal-dark eyes boring into mine. Crap.

  “I’d like a word. Ruth, lunch is served in ten minutes. We’ll see you downstairs in the kitchen.”

  Ruth looks at Sebastian, then me, with an expression that clearly seeks reassurance that I’m okay with that. I nod for Ruth to do as instructed, warmed by her deep care for me. He proffers his hand and I take it in mine as he leads me downstairs to his study, closing the door before seating himself at his desk. His hands steepled, elbows resting on the leather blotter, chin resting on his fingers, he regards me coolly. I inhale his incredible scent as I hover beside him. I have no idea whether he naturally smells this good or whether its manufactured but it should be classified as a highly intoxicating drug. My standing next to him, eyes closed, inhaling him, clearly irritates the hell out of him as he snaps his fingers to get my attention before pointing to the chair on the opposite side of his desk. Meekly, I sit. He can be so intimidating when he’s in this frame
of mind.

  “Is this about Scarlett?” I ask timidly.

  Something dark flashes across his eyes. His mouth sets in a grim, hard line. “It is. Yes. She’s concerned about you, as am I. She’s told me about the hairdresser incident, but I will discuss that with you in a moment.”

  My mouth gapes as I prepare to retort, but he holds a finger up, warning me to remain silent.

  “She’s also told me that you have asked her to leave tomorrow.”

  “We had an agreement, yes. Don’t forget, she offered to leave.”

  “Because you have made her presence here so untenable, Elizabeth.” He runs a hand through his inky hair before stroking his stubble covered jaw with long fingers; he looks so hot when he’s mad but I try to focus, although it’s hard to read where he’s going with this.

  “You don’t need her,” I reply petulantly. “You and I have discussed this and I thought you’d agreed.”

  “I decide what I need, Elizabeth, not you. She’s been there for me, through incredibly difficult times. You have no idea. Now I see you like this, and it reminds me of Libby. Seeing things. Paranoid. Where the hell does it all end? Is it me? Is this what I do to the women I love?”

  No, it’s not you. It’s her, fucked-up Scarlett. “No. God no. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Sebastian—apart from my children, of course. I love you so much. I want to be everything you need. I just can’t be that while she’s living here too. Can’t you see that?” Rising from my chair, I step hesitantly around the desk toward him, unsure of his reaction but I receive no protestation. I place my hands on his shoulders and he spins around in the chair, his hands enfolding my waist. He pulls me close, between his legs. He nuzzles the soft valley between my breasts, his hands moving down to cup my buttocks.

  “Fuck, I need you so badly,” he rasps. “But I need to have this conversation with you.”

  My hands stroke his hair, pulling his head in closer to my heaving breasts, relieved by his softer tone. I decide to use my sensuality to get exactly what I want. “I need you too. Don’t fight me on this, please, Sebastian.”

  “We’ll talk about it after the party, okay?” He pauses, waiting for my answer.

  “But she agreed to go tomorrow.” I am trying hard to keep at bay the anger now boiling in my gut. I’m no match for Sebastian when he loses it and I can see he’s close.

  “I will not see her homeless. Now, you’ve made your point. You’ve made me choose between you. I love you, but I will not be pushed on this. Do you understand me, Elizabeth?”

  “Yes. Okay.” I acquiesce but she still has to go.

  “Now, your health concerns me greatly, as it does Scarlett and Ruth. I have made an appointment for you to talk to a psychiatrist chum of mine for some bereavement counselling.”

  This news completely floors me. We have not had a discussion regarding his ‘psychiatrist chum’ and I certainly have not consented to discussing my painful loss with a stranger. My brow furrows and I return to my chair, putting much needed distance between Sebastian and the slap which my palm may deliver to his face at any moment. “Do I have a say in this decision at all? I mean, of course it’s absolutely none of my business whom you order me to see, it’s only my grief after all.”

  “Don’t be facetious, Elizabeth. Trust my judgment on this, please.”

  “So, I’m not allowed to have a virus without you immediately dragging me to a shrink?”

  “A virus?” He arches his brow and shakes his head in that infuriating way that he has. “Remind me which virus causes one’s hair to transform into snakes? I’m fascinated. I’m sure you are a medical anomaly.”

  “Temperatures can do that,” I say very slowly and sardonically as though talking to a child. “You know, you get ill and you get hot and then, when you’re really toasty hot, your body makes you see weird things. It’s in the medical journals and everything. Look it up. Google it.” His hands slap down onto his knees in fury but, as he rises from his chair, I make a swift departure. Reaching the safety of the doorway,my confidence soars sufficiently to throw one last punch. “And she goes. Tomorrow. End of.”

  The kitchen is a scene of utter chaos. Caterers are preparing a four-course feast including pheasant and grouse and the aroma from the roasting fowl smells divine. Sebastian leads Ruth, Bella and I through the disarray and out into the garden. It’s a glorious June day. The warm sun on my skin is heavenly. Scarlett has prepared a picnic lunch of sandwiches and pastries, which is laid out on a tartan rug on the lawn. It appears that my outburst is, at least for now, forgiven and the conversation is light as we tuck in heartily, crossed-legged and giggling like children.

  “This sandwich is yours, Mum,” Bella says, handing me a sandwich with the letter E written in indelible ink on the cling wrap.

  “Why is that one mine?” I ask, unwrapping the tasty looking snack.

  “Because Scarlett’s trying to get you well and said guacamole is good for you. She’s mashed some up with mayo and herbs. She’s really thoughtful, isn’t she?”

  She’s really thoughtful, suspiciously so. What’s she up to? Trying to win me over so she can stay, I imagine. “Yummy. It’s delicious, but I can’t eat it all.”

  “Eat. All of it.” Sebastian challenges me with his cool stare, eyebrow raised. “You need the energy to get through tonight,” he adds, more softly.

  “He’s right, Beth. Much as I’m jealous as hell of your figure, you’ve lost weight and are white as a sheet. Be a good little girly and eat your sandwich.” Ruth winks at me in spite of the middle finger I extend. Petulantly, I do as I’m told and finish the sandwich.

  “A toast to the birthday girl.” Sebastian hands us each a glass of bucks fizz, delightfully chilled and the orange juice so refreshing.

  The little champagne bubbles go straight to my head, and soon I’m giggling at Sebastian who has a smear of mayonnaise on his top lip. “Loving the ’tash, Seb,” I laugh, placing my finger across my own top lip mockingly.

  “Indeed.” He sighs, wiping his lip with the back of his hand. “Come on, birthday girl. We need to get you upstairs for a lie down.” He stands and helps me to my feet.

  “Whoa!” The ground is moving beneath my feet. “I think you’re right.” I laugh. Ruth and Sebastian take an arm each and magically transport me to my bed, where I marvel at the breath-taking display of dancing fairies that pirouette across the canopy above me. They can’t see them, but then it’s not their birthday.

  Chapter 5

  Something shakes my arm. I swat it away and snuggle further under the duvet. “Elizabeth. Wake up.” Sebastian’s Grecian God-like face is inches from mine. It’s such a welcome sight, I smile and reach for him. “Come on sleepyhead, it’s seven o’clock. You have one hour to transform yourself into Cinderella.”

  Holy fuck! One hour? My hair…my dress. Crawling from the bed, I pad over to the dressing table and stare at myself in the mirror. My beautiful up-do is in disarray and smears of mascara streak down beneath my heavy eyes. Major overhaul needed. “Oh shit,” I moan, “I look horrendous.”

  “I’ll get Ruth to help you.” Sebastian tugs on a curl and lays it limply over my shoulder. “It won’t take much fixing, the pins are still in. Does Bella have some curlers?”

  “No, but I have a curling tong. Please, can you ask Ruth to come quickly?”

  Sebastian returns with Ruth promptly, takes his evening suit from the armoire and leaves us alone. Ruth is wearing a robe over her underwear but her hair and make-up are perfect. She looks stunning already. I hate her and love her in equal measure. She fusses over me, first cleansing my face, applying fresh make-up, and then fixing my hair, re-curling the errant curls. Forty minutes later, I am ready to don my gown. I have removed my bra and slipped in to new red lace panties and suspenders, which hold up black silk stockings. I feel like a vamp and a flush of excitement courses through me as I anticipate Sebastian’s reaction when I strip for him later.

  The crimson taffeta rust
les as I step in to the gown, pulling it up carefully until it sits above my breasts forming a most impressive décolletage.

  “Do you think I should wear a strapless bra?” I ask Ruth, as I assess my remarkable cleavage in the full-length mirror.

  “No. Wow. You’re perfect just as you are,” Sebastian purrs. My cheeks redden as I spin around to face him. He looks so hot, dressed in a black dinner jacket, matching dress trousers and crisp white shirt with black bow tie.

  “Sebastian. You made me jump.”

  Ruth fidgets nervously, undoubtedly sensing the sexual charge. She scurries off to her room to dress.

  “Come here. Let me tie you up.” He prowls toward me, his dark brown eyes smouldering, breathing heavily.

  Tie me up? Now? “I have to finish dressing,” I protest.

  “Not you, unfortunately. The dress.” He grabs me by the waist and turns me so that he stands behind. Grasping the black laces tightly, he pulls each in turn with a sharp tug. It’s difficult to retain my balance.

  “Stand still,” he scolds, his knee pressing into the back of my thigh as he attempts to steady me. “You’re too thin. This dress is far looser on you now, that’s why I’m having to pull so hard to lace you up.”

  “Don’t you like me in it?” I ask falteringly.

  “I’d like you better out of it,” he growls suggestively. “There,” he says triumphantly, tying the black sash. “Go and look in the mirror.”

  Holy fuck! They say that we all have one day when we look our absolute best; usually it’s our wedding day. In my case, I have to admit that I’ve never felt so feminine, so transformed, as I do this moment. My waist has contracted under the taffeta constraints to a circumference easily encircled by Sebastian’s large hands. My cleavage strains upward with the help of the boned corset, my décolletage pale and full. “Sebastian. I love it. Thank you,” I gasp.