“And her sister allowed such a thing?”
“As I said, it’s a love match. What could be done?”
The voices were drowned out by the sudden arrival of a band of old women consumed in flounces of gray hair and strings of pearls.
Louisa swallowed convulsively, nearly choking on the last of her lemonade as her mind sped over the whispered rumors. They were utterly untrue, but their meaning…
People believed it was a love match. That would mean Jo would be all right. Jo could still make her own match, find the happiness she deserved for the rest of her life.
Louisa had only to marry Sebastian.
She became aware of the crowd around her. The ballroom at Ravenwood House was large, but as it was rumored the engagement of the Beastly Duke to Lady Louisa Darby was to be announced that night, the invitation to the ball had been coveted, and nearly the entire ton was there. Which meant finding Sebastian would be difficult.
She set down her empty lemonade glass on a passing footman’s tray and picked up her skirts to go in search of her future husband. Soon they would be wed, and she could put yet another of her mistakes behind her. Until then, she would be acting the part of a doting betrothed.
She didn’t make it very far as she ran directly into Jo attempting to free herself from a gaggle of matrons.
“It’s quite a crowd in here, is it not?” Jo said, pushing back a lock of hair that had fallen loose in the crush.
“Quite,” Louisa agreed.
“Do you think I could make it to the terrace alive? I should like a bit of fresh air.”
Louisa shook her head, not bothering to look in that direction. “I think not.”
“Louisa.”
Louisa jumped this time, and Viv eyed her with a crooked brow of concern as she stepped from the circle of women behind Louisa.
“It’s crowded,” Jo supplied, gesturing around them. “It seems everyone already knows what is to happen tonight.” Jo flexed her eyebrows with heavy insinuation.
Viv’s frown was swift. “Surely not.”
Jo nodded at a place behind her as if to indicate the crowd. “It’s apparently common knowledge that Louisa has gotten herself a love match.” Jo’s smile was nothing if not mischievous.
Viv’s gaze flew to Louisa. “Is that true? People are saying it’s a love match?”
Louisa could only nod, but her gaze remained on Jo. How had her little sister heard such nonsense too?
Viv’s smile was quick. “Well, that’s simply splendid. Jo, this will do wonders for your own prospects. Love matches are so rare and all.” Viv grabbed Louisa’s arm before she knew what she was about. “They’re about to start the dancing. Have you seen Waverly?”
Normally, this would not be a question one asked of one party of a betrothed couple at their betrothal ball, but there was nothing typical about their circumstances.
Louisa’s chest tightened at the thought. It was her fault Sebastian had even been pulled into this. She should have learned by now never to let her whims take hold of her, no matter how innocent they seemed. She studied the faces of her sisters, and the guilt she had carried for so long came back as if it were new, cutting her once again.
She straightened her shoulders. “I haven’t seen him, but I shall go find him.” She patted Viv’s hand that remained on her arm. “Nothing to worry over. We shall take care of everything.”
Louisa craned her neck over the crowd and managed to see Andrew wilting over by the refreshment table as he played the dutiful host, receiving well wishes on his sister’s excellent match, even if the official announcement had not yet been made. Sebastian, however, was nowhere to be found.
She pressed through the crowd, nodding at casual acquaintances, accepting fond wishes from old friends, until she found herself completely on the other side of the ballroom sans betrothed. She flexed her fingers in the skirt of her gown, her nerves suddenly firing as she pirouetted in place, neck craned, hoping to see Sebastian somewhere she had missed.
“You’re going to hurt yourself.”
Her heels snapped back to the ground as she whirled to face him.
“Where have you been?” It sounded rather accusatory, and she pressed a hand to her stomach to calm herself.
Sebastian looked as he always did, dressed in severe black, his hair swept unrelentingly away from his face, but this was the first time her stomach flipped at the sight of him.
Oh dear.
She clutched both hands against her stomach now.
What was happening to her?
She could admit to a certain fascination with the man as when she’d first met him, he’d reminded her a great deal of her sister Eliza, but this, her body, the things that were happening…she couldn’t quite explain.
“Do you mean just now or before?”
A line appeared between Sebastian’s brows, and for a moment his question confused her. Why would she care where he had been before now?
She shook her head. “I’ve been looking for you. The dancing is about to start, and we’re required to lead it off.”
His expression blanked. “Then shall we?”
He offered his arm and she took it, but she stopped before moving toward the dance floor.
“Why would I care where you’d been before?”
She paused long enough to study him. She was certain he hadn’t been in the ballroom mere moments before when she’d searched the room from one end to the other. So was she supposed to care where he’d been just previous? She again took in his costume of all black but noted now that he was clean-shaven as usual, the whites of his gloves radiant in the glow of the chandeliers and his breathing even.
That’s when she noticed it. A single hair dropping onto his forehead. Sebastian wore his hair swept back and neat in an unfashionably tame manner. She’d never seen him with a hair out of place. She stared at it, unable to break her gaze away. Never before had a single lock of hair been so suspicious.
“Where have you been?”
He said nothing.
She turned more fully to face him and involuntarily, her hands went to her hips.
“You were late. To your betrothal ball. Do you know what that would have looked like had someone noticed?”
“Nobody noticed, so it doesn’t matter.”
“I noticed.”
“You don’t count.”
His statement pierced her for the words were harsh, but in context, they really shouldn’t have bothered her as the rumors were just that. Rumors. There was no love between them, and she should not care that he had been late to his own betrothal ball.
But that wasn’t what mattered just then. Jo’s happiness mattered. Viv’s determination to see her wed mattered.
“If Viv knew, she would—”
The sweeping crescendo of violins interrupted her, and without further conversation, Sebastian tugged her bodily onto the dance floor. They spilled through the crowd, and indelicately, Sebastian pulled her into the required position.
Louisa didn’t miss the whispers that swirled around her as she moved. It was rather an ungraceful entrance, and hopefully, Viv had not witnessed it. She could only imagine how the tongues would wag now at such an unseemly entrance.
Sebastian never met her eyes throughout the entire quadrille even when the movements brought them together at intervals. His features were arranged in absolute stillness, his touch polite but brief.
God, she wanted his arms around her again. It had been so long since she’d felt so safe, so precious, so…protected.
She clenched her jaw, forcing her thoughts to more practical matters.
What on earth would have made the man late to his own betrothal ball?
With a flash of realization, she realized he did not wish to be there. Of course he didn’t. How could she have been so stupid? While Sebastian would perform as honor dictated, it did not mean he would enjoy the frivolity involved in a societal wedding. He would not care to navigate the intricate steps decorum required
for them to be wed. She might know Sebastian better than most, but she knew above all else Sebastian only truly cared about himself.
Heat flared into her cheeks, and she hoped any onlookers would credit it to the vigorous exercise required by the dance. She hadn’t seen Sebastian since that night, and she had no way of knowing how he truly felt about their predicament. She could only surmise that he was displeased. In fact, he probably hated her for what she’d done to him.
It seemed to take an eternity for their set to finish, and ever so coolly, Sebastian led her from the floor. As soon as a fold of guests enveloped them into a semblance of privacy, she turned with a harsh whisper.
“I’m very sorry to have trapped you. I promise I shall make up for it in future by being the absolute perfect duchess you require.”
His eyes flashed, and his eyebrows went flat.
“What are you talking about?”
It felt as though someone had driven a knife directly through her breastbone. The guilt she carried over her mother’s death was something she’d learned to carry, but now her guilt at trapping Sebastian threatened to suffocate her. Tears burned at the backs of her eyes, and she bit the inside of her cheek to distract herself.
“Just as I said. I promise to be the perfect duchess you require. I shan’t be a burden.”
“I don’t require a perfect duchess. Where are you getting this nonsense from?” His brow folded as his jaw tightened.
She was only making this worse.
She found herself pulling at the silk of her gloves as her hands swelled in the heat of the room. She needed air. She needed to be anywhere but there where she could see the look of displeasure on his face at the same time her body yearned for his touch.
“Am I not clear?” She leaned in, lowering her voice. It would not do to be overheard and ruin what footing she’d gained in the society rumor mill. “I will uphold my role as duchess, and you needn’t worry that I will embarrass you or entrap you in something that displeases you again.”
He studied her for another moment before taking the smallest of steps back. It shouldn’t have pained her, that small step, but it was as if someone had grabbed hold of the knife in her chest and twisted it.
“Very good.” That was it. Just two simple words and an entire ocean was placed securely between them.
Her chest squeezed, and her stomach heaved. She shouldn’t feel this way. She shouldn’t care about what he thought. She knew the truth. Theirs wasn’t a love match, and Sebastian truly was the Beastly Duke, caring only for himself.
So why was he marrying her?
That finger of doubt prodded at her, and the knife twisted yet again, her footing so uncertain now. She had to remember Jo. That was all that mattered now.
She wasn’t sure how long they stood there like that, so much pulsing between them while neither spoke a single word. Only their gazes remained locked as if neither could look away.
Until someone spoke.
“Sebastian. I require an introduction.”
Louisa turned at the sound of the slightly nasal, haughty voice at her side. A woman stood there, her back razor straight, her gray hair pinned fiercely to her head. Her features were sharp while her skin had taken on the crepe quality of an older woman, and her eyes were flat and dark.
Louisa stepped ever so slightly in front of Sebastian, not realizing why until Sebastian spoke.
“Louisa, this is my mother.”
* * *
It was impossible to stop the inevitable, but he wished more than anything that night he may have been able to at least delay it. Especially right then.
He had clearly upset Louisa, and he could not figure out why. Why was she prattling on about being the perfect duchess? She could withdraw from society completely once they were wed, hiding away at Waverly House until the rumors of whether or not she’d turned into a crone ran rampant through London, and he would not have cared at all.
It was precisely this kind of complication he wished to avoid, and so he’d agreed with her if only to make her stop arguing when he saw no argument to be had. That had only seemed to make it worse, and he suddenly wanted to be alone with her to force her to make sense.
And that right there was exactly why he was in danger.
He should not be alone with her. He couldn’t trust himself if he was.
It wasn’t as if he’d meant to be tardy either. It was only that the thought of seeing her again after being well and truly betrothed frightened him. He’d sat in his carriage in front of Ravenwood House for more than an hour contemplating his unease. God, he’d wanted to see her again. The pull of her was enough to have him sprinting from the carriage, and yet that was why he’d remained. He’d had to resist, because if he didn’t, what would be next?
He would lose all control, just like his father.
Louisa dipped into a curtsy now, but he could tell it was more of a reflex as her eyes had gone wide.
“Your Grace,” she said before Sebastian could warn her.
His mother straightened, snapping her fan against the opposite wrist. It was a deliberate move and one she’d perfected over the years to startle people when she disapproved of them. It only had him grinding his teeth.
“It’s Lady, actually, but I can assume Sebastian has not seen to telling you that. How very characteristic of him. Lady Sonia Pryne, Viscountess Raynham.”
Louisa never moved her gaze away from his mother. Lady Raynham had been known to force others to cower before her with a simple remark, but Louisa was hardly an ordinary woman.
“You really shouldn’t make assumptions,” Louisa said now, eyeing his mother. “It demonstrates a lack of perception.”
Sebastian blinked, jarred by what he’d just heard. No one spoke to his mother that way, not even him, even if he should wish to. Not that he’d had a chance in his younger years when his mother was often absent, and now he found it wholly unnecessary to expend energy on managing his mother’s narcissism.
“I beg your pardon.” His mother’s voice had turned to ice.
Louisa’s smile was beguiling. “Were you unable to hear me? It is quite a crush in here.” She stepped to the side just enough to put her arm through his. “No one wanted to miss our betrothal ball. You can understand.”
His mother’s eyes flashed between the two of them, and she seemed to come to some kind of decision because she snapped her fan against her wrist once more.
“I understand the ceremony is to be held next week. That’s rather quick, isn’t it?” His mother’s eyes dropped surreptitiously to Louisa’s stomach.
Something inside of him snapped. He stepped in front of Louisa and leaned down so his mother wouldn’t mistake his words.
“I’m sorry you will not be able to make it. I understand your social obligations are pressing.”
His mother did not react, and he had not expected her to. They faced each other for several breaths, and it was almost as if one were attempting to decipher the thoughts of the other, discover the weakest point, and determine the best way to strike.
Sebastian did not have the patience for that.
“I understand your new husband demands so much of your time.”
His mother sucked in a breath at this.
It was a well-known fact Viscount Raynham spent more time at his club or between the thighs of his mistress than he did with his wife. Raynham the Rogue they called him, and that left Sebastian’s mother the object of great societal pity, which he knew she hated.
Her upper lip curled over her teeth as she spoke. “It would seem he does. If you’ll excuse me.”
His mother’s heels were crisp against the marble floors of the ballroom as she marched away from them.
Sebastian didn’t hesitate. He took Louisa’s arm and spun her in the direction of the terrace doors. Ravenwood House was much like any other of the social elite in town. The ballroom was outfitted with a series of doors that spilled directly out into what he presumed would be the gardens providing both fr
esh air and a respite from the congestion inside the ballroom. They had hardly made it onto the stone of the terrace before Louisa turned on him.
“That woman is despicable.”
“Please do not show any politeness on my behalf.”
She stopped even though he knew she had another barb ready and seemed to consider his words.
“I do apologize. I realize she’s your mother.”
“I had no say in the matter, so there’s no need to apologize. I only ask that you do not allow my mother’s words to offend you. She’s a bitter woman, disappointed in nearly everything that’s crossed her path.”
She had stopped several paces behind him, and when he turned to look at her, he wished he hadn’t. She stood suspended, vibrating with expectation much as she’d been the day he’d met her as she tumbled from her carriage in the rain at Ashbourne Manor.
“You wish to say something.” He didn’t know how he knew it, but he could feel it in the way her body pitched ever so slightly forward.
She closed the distance between them, and for one heart-stopping moment, he thought she would touch him. As if sensing her nearness, he felt the ghost of her hands against him, knew how her body would fit into his.
He took a step back, knowing he would need to find a widow or an unhappy wife soon. But even as he thought it, he knew he couldn’t do it. Not anymore. He would be faithful in his marriage, loyal to Louisa.
He would always wait for Louisa.
His future loomed before him like a dark, endless night.
This was the very thing he had meant to avoid. But was physical pleasure as dangerous as love? Surely not. Desire was a need to be met. It was simple science that did not stray into messy emotions.
After what seemed an age, Louisa finally spoke. “I understand now why you are this way.”
Her words stilled him.
“What way?”
“The Beastly Duke.” She gestured at the ballroom behind him and presumably his mother. “If I had to grow up with her as a mother, I’d be beastly too.” She spit the words as if they left filth in her mouth.
“Did someone say you weren’t?”
The Duke and the Lady Page 4
