A Promise of More (19 page)

The beautiful young widow didn’t appear to relish being second best. Yet, he’d informed her that their liaison was over before his duel with Doogie.

He raised one eyebrow. “You have something you wish to tell me? Something about my wife?”

Christina must have sensed his tone, for she shook her head. “Nothing of note. There was a rumor going round that Dunmire was quite eager to marry Beatrice Hennessey. I have no idea why. She had no dowry, is not a beauty, and everyone knew she was called Henpeck Hennessey for a reason.”

Sebastian found his fists clenching at his side. He hated the nickname. Beatrice did not deserve it. From what he knew of her, there was nothing henpecky
about her. She was sensible, that was true, whereas her brother had been a wastrel. So far, she had not tried to henpeck Sebastian in any way. If she wanted something, she asked, and if she didn’t like something, she told him so.

“Dunmire is not someone who has crossed paths with me before. What sort of man is he?”

The hand on his arm shuddered slightly. “He is not the kindest of men. I can quite understand why she did not wish to marry him. But the rumor was she could have married Dunmire rather than coming to you. Perhaps she has not been as truthful as you thought.”

Sebastian’s mouth firmed. He didn’t like to think he had been played for a fool. He quite clearly remembered Beatrice saying there was no one else she, or her family, could turn to, and that she had no option but to ask him to marry her. He didn’t like that his marriage might be based on a lie. He wanted a marriage built on trust. His parents’ marriage had been disastrous because there was no trust.

“I think it might be time to go and find my wife.” With that, he bowed over Christina’s hand and made to leave.

She thrust herself forward until her breasts pushed into his chest. “If you find your wife lacking in any way, you know I am here for you. I would more than welcome you back into my bed.”

He stood looking down at the beautiful widow standing in front of him. She was indeed a temptation. However, the only woman he seemed to want in his bed at the moment was his wife, and that worried him greatly. He didn’t want to have any feelings for Beatrice. But the rage he’d felt at seeing Dunmire’s hand on her was possessive. She was his and no other man would have her.

Their marriage was supposed to be a deal, a partnership of mutual respect and trust. Beatrice would manage their home and fill it with children, while he kept her family financially secure.

“Thank you for your kind offer. I will remember it.” And with that, he turned and left to go in search of his wife.

Dunmire watched Beatrice hurry across the ballroom, his fists clenched at his side.
She was even more beautiful than the day he’d first met her. His groin throbbed at the idea of having the woman on her knees at his feet.

It was his blasted bad luck Beatrice had been Lizandra’s friend and thereby learned his secret. It was hardly his fault if Lizandra had thrown herself at him. What was a man to do? Unfortunately, he’d thought the silly girl would crawl away in disgrace and keep silent. He shouldn’t have to marry a nobody just because a quick fuck in a darkened garden had got the chit pregnant.

Now Beatrice had outmaneuvered him too. He’d thought Doogie’s death would see her having to turn to him. But she was too clever for words.

It pained him that Coldhurst had the woman he wanted. Worse still, somehow they’d learned that Lord Eyre knew Sebastian’s pistol had not killed Doogie.

A small smile creased his lips. But if they thought they’d find the young lord, they would be waiting until hell froze over. Dunmire had made sure his body would never be found.

Now all he had to make sure of, was that Beatrice went missing too. Finding out where the child was would give him the leverage he needed. For some reason Beatrice doted on the boy.

“Enjoying yourself, my sweet? You seemed to be enraptured with a certain gentleman.”

Beatrice jumped upon hearing Sebastian’s voice in her ear. She’d been so upset she hadn’t sensed his approach.

She knew exactly what Sebastian was referring to, her tête-à-tête with Lord Dunmire. But she didn’t wish her husband to know anything about Dunmire. She didn’t want to have to tell him she’d lied to him on his ship. Sebastian hadn’t been her only option, just her only viable option. If he ever found out … especially now they knew he’d not shot Doogie …

Then there was Lizandra’s son, Henry. She was worried about what Sebastian’s reaction would be if he found out about the boy, especially in light of Dunmire’s foul threats. Could a woman fake her virginity? Would Sebastian believe she was pure when she came to his bed?

If he believed her, she considered Sebastian would probably be fine with continuing to pay for the boy’s care and keep, given how important family was to him. But it was a risk she couldn’t take. Not until they knew each other better and Sebastian would know she’d never lie—well, not about this.

If he thought she’d lied about needing him to marry her, he might think she was lying now and not believe her about Henry’s parentage, thinking the child hers.

What if he thought it right to give Henry to the boy’s father? Dunmire was a monster.

“I’m not sure what you are referring to,” Beatrice said rather breathlessly.

“Was Dunmire bothering you? He does have a way of bothering the ladies.”

“He wasn’t bothering me.”

“Is he an acquaintance of yours?”

Beatrice shook her head, another lie, and she felt terribly guilty about it. “No, he was an acquaintance of my brother.” Sebastian continued to stare at her. “He was ensuring I was well; he was worried about our marriage.”

Sebastian reached toward her and pulled a stray curl off her forehead, evidently wanting to see her face. “Was he a close friend of the family?”

Taken aback by his tone, she gazed at Sebastian warily, wondering what the sudden interest in Dunmire was. “Not particularly. Although he did come and offer his condolences when my brother was killed. I’m assuming he was just trying to be kind.”

“And were you appreciative of his kindness?” His voice held a hard edge; was he angry? “If he was really trying to be kind, why did he not step forward and offer for you?”

This is what she had been dreading, for Dunmire
had
offered for her. But unless she could reveal Lizandra’s secret and tell Sebastian what kind of man Dunmire actually was, she would have no way of explaining why she would never have accepted a proposal from Dunmire.

She’d promised Lizandra never to reveal her friend’s shame, and she’d rather die than break her promise after everything Lizzy had gone through. And there was Henry to consider. Could she trust Sebastian with the truth?

She had dragged Sebastian into this situation by telling a lie, and now she was trapped by it. Would he listen? She didn’t know what his reaction would be. Would he hate her? Would he punish her by giving Henry to Dunmire? She couldn’t bear
that, not after everything Lizzy had endured. She would not fail her friend. Beatrice had vowed on Lizzy’s deathbed to protect her son and ensure Dunmire never got his hands on him. She would not let her best friend—her only friend—down.

“He must not have wanted me.”

“More fool him. He wants you now, though.” Sebastian leaned in close and pressed his lips to her ear. “Every man in this room wants you. Including me,” he said, and nipped her earlobe, sending heat curling low in her belly.

“I—I—I think you must be teasing me, my lord. If every man had wanted me, I would not have got to five and twenty unmarried.” She could hardly gather her thoughts with him standing so close.

“They want you because you’re married. No man dallies with a single lady of quality without braving the parson’s noose. Now that you’re mine, they think they face no risk. Little do they know, I protect what is mine.”

His lips trailed a molten path down her neck. She could barely catch her breath. She glanced round the crowded ballroom. It seemed that everyone, male and female, was watching them.

“We are drawing a crowd. Everyone is watching us. You are standing indecently close.”

Sebastian gave her neck one final nibble before drawing back. “There is no need to blush—we are married, you know. Newly married, a certain amount of intimacy is to be expected.” He slipped her arm through his. “Something I hope you will remember. I’ll not stand for infidelity, especially before we have children.”

She gasped and looked up into Sebastian’s smiling face, his eyes cold as ice.

“You will not have to worry about me being unfaithful, my lord—
ever
. I will honor my marriage vows. Can you say the same?”

Sebastian drew up short. “It is different for me. We do not bear children. My father never knew with certainty if my sisters were his. I couldn’t face that pain. Women need to remain faithful, but men … How I live my life is my business; that was part of our arrangement. My marriage changes nothing.”

Beatrice frowned. “I don’t remember any such detail. You stood before God and swore fidelity. As did I. If you want my trust and respect, then sleeping your way through the
ton
is not the way to earn it.”

She felt Sebastian stiffen beside her. “I saved your family, I married you—even though, as it turns out, I did not kill Doogie. It would appear we are stuck with
each other. But I warn you now. I won’t have my behavior questioned. You may have been able to henpeck your brother, but it won’t work on me.”

Hurt knifed through her until every inch of skin exuded pain. Her stomach heaved and she fought down the bile. “
My marriage changes nothing …
” He had deliberately thrown her nickname in her face. She snuck a glance at him. His eyes glittered in the light from the candles, hard like diamonds, his face a mask of indifference.

She would never forgive him.

She lowered her eyes, smoothed her skirts, and refused to rise to his obvious bait. She would not deign to argue with him here, with all the
ton
watching. She would not let him see how much his words hurt her.

He’d been in a foul temper when questioning her about Dunmire. Could he be jealous? She inwardly scoffed at the idea.

“If you will excuse me,
husband
, I feel the need to be free of your company.” Flicking him a look of utter contempt, she added, “I would not wish to impose on your life any more than I already do.”

As she turned to leave, she felt a small measure of satisfaction at the look of astonishment on his face.

Chapter Ten

Sebastian cursed himself to kingdom come. He’d lashed out and purposely hurt Beatrice for no reason other than jealousy. He didn’t like the way she had conversed with Dunmire as if they were old friends. And she had let the man put his hands on her.

What was their relationship? The idea that Dunmire knew Beatrice better than he did sent him reeling. Why did he care? Beatrice was simply a means to an end. A woman to bear him children.

He grudgingly admired Beatrice’s response to his abysmal behavior. Her back straight, her head high, she swept across the ballroom like a princess.

It wasn’t quite the reaction he’d expected, but he’d caught the flash of hurt in her eyes.

However, it was better that he destroy any ideas of there being more to this marriage. Then she’d never love him. He didn’t need an irritating love-struck wife, demanding his time, henpecking him, and making him a laughingstock.

He looked up to find Hadley shaking his head at him. Sebastian merely shrugged and stared him down. Hadley drew near.

“That was badly done, arguing the first night you introduce her into society. She was having a hard enough time as it was. I expected more from you.”

He could hardly tell Hadley that he was consumed with jealousy. He could hardly admit it to himself. He needed to put space between himself and his wife.

He tugged at his cravat. “I have to leave. I have to get out of here.”

As he walked out into the night, he didn’t know what he was more annoyed about, Hadley’s sanctimonious expression as he accompanied him, or his own niggle of conscience about the petty wound he’d inflicted on Beatrice.