by Stacy Reid
“Tell us what happened, pumpkin.” Anthony invited with a smile, though his eyes remained cool and cautious. “I got mother’s letter, but it was filled with ranting of how ruined we are. Why don’t we hear from you what transpired? I know what the paper said, but we all know how notoriously unreliable they can be.”
Constance opened her mouth, and the words still would not come.
“What happened, Constance?” Sebastian demanded at her continued silence.
She looked everywhere but at him. She couldn’t bear to see his disappointment. Seconds flew by; then she shored up her courage and met his eyes. She flinched from his cold distant look. It was one he had never turned on her before. Her throat tightened as tears burned. “I visited Decadence for a private audience with the Duke of Mondvale.”
Sebastian exhaled a slow breath, and she gathered how worried he must be. He nodded in encouragement. “Why?”
She fought to keep her face blank and buried the memories. It would not do for her to blush at all. “He called on me a few times, but at Lady Beaumont’s ball he decided to terminate our friendship without any explanation. I thought it fair to demand answers.”
Her mother’s shocked inhalation had painful heat scorching Constance’s skin.
“Were you seen kissing?” Sebastian demanded softly.
“No.”
“Does it matter if she was seen?” her mother asked weakly. “The very fact that she visited that man in his club is enough. She is compromised. This is a terrible scandal. I doubt Connie will ever be able to recover from it.”
Sebastian’s anger seemed to pour over her in waves. “Did he touch you, Connie?”
She sucked in a harsh breath.
“We understand you are embarrassed,” her father interjected, “but we must understand all that happened if we are to face it as a family.”
She forced herself to look at everyone fully. It was not condemnation she saw but anger on her behalf and pity. It was the pity that gutted her and caused her hands to tremble. She clenched them tightly in her lap under the table. “He kissed me a few times.”
“And?” the icy anger had not receded from Sebastian’s voice.
She looked to Anthony for support and encountered a similarly cool gaze.
Anthony spoke at her hesitation. “It has been two days since this scandal, Connie, and Mondvale has not presented himself to ask for your hand. His reputation is…” He grimaced. “We need to know all that he did. Are you still a virgin, Connie?”
Her mother’s fork clattered onto the table. “Anthony! This is not something we discuss so openly.” Her face was florid.
“We need to understand what we are combating, Mother. Connie should have thought more of her sensibilities before she acted so impetuously,” Sebastian snarled.
By a great effort of will, one Constance had never imagined she possessed, she tried to show an unreadable expression. “Yes, I…I …believe so,” she said before they could discuss the matter of her chastity anymore.
“You believe so?” Anthony asked with such lethal softness he unsettled her. “I must assume he went farther than kisses?”
Her face burned, and she wanted to sink underneath the table. She was not sure if there was more to the act than what they had done. Lucan had touched and kissed her in a place she didn’t even know she could be touched. But there must be more, because Lucan had still seemed so tensed and unfulfilled. Not that she would ever admit to such a thing! Resolutely she thrust Lucan and her improper behavior from mind. She looked to Phillipa for help. The anger burning in her gaze as she looked at Anthony comforted Constance.
“I would think if Connie is in doubt my lords, nothing happened,” Jocelyn growled. “You will both cease embarrassing her further.”
Constance could feel the relief that traveled through her brothers and even her father, and her shame burned brighter. For if not for Lucan’s restraint, as he told her before, he would have gone further. She had failed them all with her behavior.
“Then why are you crying?” Anthony demanded.
She raised a hand to her cheek, and swiped away the wetness she found. “My nerves must be more unsettled than I realized.”
He nodded, accepting her inane explanation, but his face had softened.
“What are we to do, Sebastian? Lady Blade saw us both today, and as I walked over to greet her, she turned away.” The mortification in her mother’s voice was rife.
The memory had Constance’s head pounding, and she reached for her glass of water. I was so foolish.
“You can plan for a June wedding, madam,” Sebastian said calmly. Too calmly.
Horror burned in Constance’s veins.
“Why do you look so surprised, Connie? You think I would allow someone to compromise you and not marry you?”
She straightened in her chair. “I do not wish to marry Mondvale under such circumstances, Sebastian, and I am certain he will not marry me. I cannot imagine what happened, for I am certain I was not seen, I swear to you, and he did not compromise me.”
“The fact that he kissed you, touched you was enough,” Sebastian’s voice was implacable.
She shifted her glance to Anthony and espied the same resolve. Sudden fear filled her. She knew with a deep bone certainty that Lucan would never bend to their will. She could not imagine her brothers giving up either. Constance did not want to marry Lucan like this. “I do not want to marry him,” she said hoarsely. Liar, her heart taunted. She yearned for Lucan, but if he came to her this way they would never have a happy marriage. She was sure of it, but she was not sure if she had any choice either.
“If you do not wish to wed Mondvale I will not force you. But you will accept Litchfield’s offer. Either way you will be married by June.”
She searched Sebastian’s face. There was no hint of humor.
“The option is to marry, or live your life as a recluse in disgrace in the country,” her mother said quietly.
“We must rally as if nothing happened,” Phillipa interjected, her golden eyes flashing with anger. “From what I have seen of society, if you flee to the country it is an admission of guilt. I am sure that is not the right way.” Phillipa said glancing at Anthony.
“But why has Mondvale not presented himself here? He must have known the risk when he allowed Constance entrance into his club?” Jocelyn demanded.
“Mayhap he thought Connie was trying to compromise him?” Phillipa ventured. “More than one mamma has tried it this past season and has been met with a similar response.”
Her mother sniffed delicately. “He is a reprobate, that is why. Uncaring and cruel. I knew he was not good enough for Connie, but I foolishly allowed him to call on her without declaring his intentions.”
Lucan was not uncaring and cruel, more stubborn and foolish. Constance had seen the naked need on his face for her. She had also seen how he tried to push her away. She took some comfort in thinking it meant he had hated hurting her. Though it was hollow comfort, indeed.
He was trying to close his heart to her because he believed implicitly in her brother’s guilt. To shatter Lucan’s reserve she needed to understand what had happened. If he would not confide her in, mayhap Sebastian would. “Marissa Alicia Wynwood,” she said.
The blood drained from Jocelyn’s face and the arctic blast from Sebastian’s closed face chilled Constance. What is it? The depth of fear that filled her, made her head swam. The torment and rage behind Lucan’s eyes as he had uttered the words now seemed more real and not a figment of her imagination.
“Who is she?” Constance questioned into the fraught silence.
“Where did you hear her name?” Sebastian questioned.
A part of her wanted to hold it back. For she suddenly knew this was Lucan’s intention. He knew the name would galvanize Sebastian.
“Constance?”
“How do you know her, Sebastian?” She could see that they all knew. Even her father.
“Until you inform me how it is y
ou came to mention her name, I will not divulge who Marissa was.”
How could Lucan believe Sebastian had something to do with her death?
“That was the last thing Luc—His Grace said to me. I demanded as to why he would terminate our friendship and his answer was her name. She was his sister, I believe—”
“Oh my Goodness!” Jocelyn breathed, as everyone fell silent.
“His full name and title is Lucan Devlin Wynwood, the Duke of Mondvale,” Anthony said carefully as he looked at Sebastian.
Constance could feel the undercurrent of emotions arching from her brother and wrapping him into a bubble she did not understand. She also saw the pain in his eyes, it was real and deep. Who had Marissa been to him?
Jocelyn looked a little pale, but she gave him a sweet supporting smile.
“Who was she to you, Sebastian?” Constance asked, her heart squeezing.
“A friend.”
She waited, but he revealed nothing else. “Please do not shut me out.”
She could see him closing off and knew she would get nothing from him further.
“I am not feeling so well,” Jocelyn murmured, laying down her serviette. Her words had the desired effect of rousing Sebastian. He pushed back from his chair and gently eased her up.
Constance met his gaze, wanting to demand an explanation.
“We will speak later, Constance,” he promised.
She nodded, grateful he no longer seemed so angry with her. But she was not sure she liked what she saw in his eyes either.
Guilt.
Chapter Fourteen
Constance laid on the chaise, snuggled under a blanket, her mind in deep turbulence. The fire in the grate had died to mere embers, but she lacked the energy to ring for a servant. She hated disturbing anyone this late anyway. She should have been in her bed. Instead, she had waited until the household fell asleep before retiring to the library to read. The tension and the uncertainty had left her feeling miserable, and she had sought to lose herself in a novel.
Sebastian had made no effort to speak with her, and even her father had rebuffed her plea for understanding. Worse, Lucan still had not called on her.
She had no memory of falling asleep, and her foggy mind tried to make out what woke her. She looked to the fallen book on the floor, wondering if it was the thud of it dropping from her hand that had roused her. Then she heard a sound and glanced sideways to see Sebastian and Anthony entering the library. What were they doing? She opened her mouth to speak when Anthony’s words froze her.
“The Duke of Mondvale is Marissa’s brother,” incredulity rang in Anthony’s voice.
Sebastian expelled a deep breath and sank onto the sofa nearest to the fire, stretching his long legs out in a casual and relaxed pose. He had but to turn his head and probe the shadows in the far corner of the library to make out her curled form on the chaise. “I thought Marissa a ghost I had successfully exorcized from my mind and heart,” Sebastian admitted.
Constance’s breath caught, the intention to reveal her presence stifled.
“Constance is in love with him.”
“Why do you say that?” Sebastian all but snarled.
Anthony’s soft chuckle held no humor. “Connie would never have allowed Mondvale any liberties if she did not fancy herself in love with him, Sebastian. Did you see her face each time she spoke of him? She tried to appear indifferent, but she failed. He mattered enough for her to risk visiting his club to demand answers. That is revealing and very much like Connie. I do not think it wise to insist she marry Lord Litchfield.”
They went silent as if contemplating.
“It savages me to see her in pain,” Sebastian finally replied. “But she must marry.”
She thought she had been so successful in hiding her true feelings.
A sigh heaved from Anthony, and his shadow pushed off from the bookcase and went to sit on the far end of the sofa beside Sebastian, but much closer to her.
“Connie is not a reckless fool, Sebastian. For some reason, she decided she wanted the Duke of Mondvale. Not Litchfield who has offered for her three time now. Though we know the size of her inheritance has something to do with his persistence. Connie tends to know what she wants in life and pursues it single-mindedly. Do you remember when she was young how determined she had been for the old duke to love her? It had been a painful thing to watch but she had not given up in the face of his coldness. She pushed even when I faltered. She showed that same tenacity when she learned to ride, fence, play the violin, and speak languages. We should have expected it to be the same in the pursuit of her prince charming—as she called her future husband from the age of twelve.”
Tears slipped down Constance’s face as she listened to her brothers. It was even more imperative they know she was listening before they said something that had the power to shatter her. She never realized how much they saw into her, cared for her. She could hear the depth of love in Anthony’s voice as he spoke. Words begged to tumble from her lips, but she remained frozen.
“Do you really believe she is untouched?” Sebastian growled. “We know full well how passion can burn out of control. And it is damned difficult to think of Connie as a woman with desires.”
Embarrassment burned inside of her, and she waited for Anthony’s reply in an agony of humiliation.
“Any woman would know if she had made love, Sebastian, but from her mortification I can say he did more than chaste kissing.”
She could not make out Sebastian’s response but she certainly heard his soft snarl.
They were silent for the longest time, then Sebastian spoke. “Mondvale must believe I had something to do with Marissa’s death. I cannot bear the idea of seeing Connie’s pain, nor can I accept forcing her to wed where her heart does not lie. It will only hurt her further. But I cannot ignore her being in his club, without a doubt compromised, and not wed. I failed her. I should have traveled up with her from Sherring Cross. I knew she did not wish to return to town, and I allowed her to face society’s censure alone.”
It felt as if a fist closed over her heart at Sebastian’s assertion.
“Do not be foolish,” Anthony snapped. “No one expected you to leave Jocelyn when she was feeling so ill. I was the one who should have been here. But we had been suffocating her, and it was a hard thing to give her space. In fact, I prefer to lay the blame at the feet of the man who allowed her entrance into his club. If he cared anything for her, he would have made an offer the minute her presence in his club became known to society.”
And therein lies the heart of the problem, the torment that had made Constance so uneasy. Lucan cared not how damaged her reputation had truly gotten. Nothing would force him to wed the sister of his enemy.
Sebastian sighed. “I think that is because of Marissa. What did you learn from your investigation?”
Constance’s heart lurched. Sebastian had Anthony investigate Lucan? When? The scandal only broke two days ago. Her brothers must have been in motion the instant they received their mother’s letter saying she had been ruined by the Duke of Mondvale. She knew as the Duke of Calydon, Sebastian was powerful, and he had the resources to find out all he wanted on Lucan. Even things Lucan would want buried.
“He started in London’s underbelly and rose to be a shipping magnate in ten years. He also has significant investments in steamships and lands. He is wealthy and powerful, and that was before he inherited the dukedom,” Anthony said. “He inherited the title last year. Before then he spent most of his time in the Orient and the Americas. His mother, Lady Natalee, is the previous Duke of Mondvale’s daughter who had ran off with her tutor. She was disinherited. And the duke died without any more issues. It took the crown almost four years to find Mondvale.”
Constance was amazed at what her brothers had been able to unearth so quickly.
“He owns the gaming club Decadence?” Sebastian queried.
Paper shuffled and her eyes strained. She prayed they would not turn on the ga
s light in the room. It would be very hard for her to brazen her way out. Though she could pretend she was asleep. As if that would fool her two astute brothers.
“He is one fourth owner along with the Earl of Ainsley, a man they simply call the Reverend, but who is indeed the Viscount of Trent’s disinherited son, and one Sir Marcus Stone,” Anthony said.
“It is said here that he is very influential, in what manner?”
She swallowed, waiting for Anthony’s reply. Her legs cramped from being folded. She gently shifted and bit her lip to prevent her cry as blood rushed through her limbs.
Anthony spoke, “Calvert said Mondvale’s reputation is not to be taken lightly.”
“How is it possible that one man amassed this much power and remained virtually unheard of?”
She heard the click of glasses and saw shadows moving by the mantel. How they were able to pour drink into glasses with only the light from the dying fireplace flummoxed her.
“Mayhap that was by his design. His wealth does not compare to the Calydon holdings. But he trades in secrets and information thus he is valuable to many,” Anthony murmured.
“Enemies?” Sebastian asked.
“The man is careful,” Anthony growled. “What are you thinking?”
“He will marry Constance or I will destroy him,” Sebastian vowed. “I will speak with him about Marissa. I did not even know she had a brother, Anthony. I wonder if she was ever truthful about anything.”
Constance’s heart froze at the menace in Sebastian’s tone. No. Her mind and heart screamed in denial.
“What manner of man is he for our sister?”
“His reputation as a ruthless businessman is vaunted. His relentless rise to power and influence had been admired by society, and his inheritance of the title had unwittingly been the final touch to his masterpiece. When it had become known that the ‘Lord of Sin’ was the Duke of Mondvale, he was sought after for more than money and vice. Ambitious maters wanted him for their daughters and some even tried to compromise him. He did not bow to convention and marry any of them. Connie needs someone gentle, someone—” Anthony’s voice held a note of frustration. “He may be a duke, Sebastian, but I cannot see someone like Mondvale with Connie. From all accounts he is jaded and hard-hearted. It is said he is ruthless to those that antagonize him, which you have clearly done with this business with Marissa. I would hate for all those feelings of his to be directed at our sister. I do not think it wise to force her to marry him, even if she loves him.”
