Perfect Bride (29 page)

She didn’t back down. “And I must ask the nature of your visit.”

Sebastian surged to his feet. “Your Grace, that is between Devon and me. She is a grown woman, and I do believe the choice to see me should be hers, not yours.”

“You are right,” she startled him by saying. “But first I’ve something to say to you. Devon told me last night how you endeavored to see to her education, how you taught her to read and write. But I pride
myself on the sharpness of my mind, particularly in light of my advanced age. I am not a doddering old ninny.”

And he was in no mood to be lectured. “Your Grace, I respect you far too much to even think such a thing.” He forced a calm he was far from feeling.

“And I have always respected you as well, my boy. But I am not blind,” she declared. “I saw the posses
sive way you gazed at Devon yesterday, the overly fa
miliar way you spoke to her, and touched her. I saw the way she refused to meet your eyes and your reluctance to let her go. Now, I have never been one to pry—”

“Then don’t,” he said curtly.

“Listen to me, Sebastian, and listen well. I am grateful to you for rescuing her. But I heartily disap
prove of the way you kept my granddaughter be
neath your roof under circumstances that could certainly be construed as compromising. Judging from what I saw of the two of you, I have every right to be concerned. She tried to hide it, but there were tears in her eyes when she spoke of you last night. And anything that distresses my granddaughter also distresses me. Do we understand each other?”

He lost his temper then. “Perfectly,” he said grimly. “Now may I see her or must I tear this house apart until I find her?”

Devon had joined her grandmother for breakfast, but by noon she had a horrible headache. Everything had happened so fast. Her mind was still whirling. She was vastly relieved when her grandmother suggested a nap. Indeed, she’d have liked to spend the rest of the day in relative seclusion, but her grandmother had asked that she join her for tea at half past three.

Her slippers made no sound as she crossed the massive domed entryway toward the drawing room. The spiral of angry voices reached her ears. One was the duchess’s.

The other was Sebastian’s.

She did not mean to eavesdrop, but one of the doors stood cocked ajar. The mightiest hand from above couldn’t have kept her from stealing toward it.

They stood toe-to-toe, the marquess and the duchess. Under other circumstances, she might have laughed. Her grandmother, whose snowy white head scarcely reached the middle of Sebastian’s chest, appeared as though she’d like to throttle him with her bare hands. Sebastian’s expression was no less intense.

“Now may I see her,” he was saying in that impe
rious tone she knew so well, “or must I tear this house apart until I find her?”

Devon stepped forward. “There’s no need for that,” she said calmly. “I’m right here.”

Two pairs of eyes swung her direction.

The duchess immediately hobbled to her side. “My dear,” the duchess clucked, “you needn’t see him now if you don’t wish to.”

Devon summoned a tiny smile and squeezed her shoulder. “It’s all right,” she murmured.

The duchess gave a nod. She left the room, but not before she turned and glared daggers at Sebastian.

They were left alone. Slowly Devon transferred her gaze to Sebastian. He was impeccably dressed as always, in tight fawn breeches and black frock coat. The very sight of him made her heart lurch.

He tipped his head. “How are you?” he queried
softly. His lips crooked up in a tender little smile that made her ache inside.

Devon couldn’t return it. Instead a painful, bitter wave of emotion battered her. “I’m fine,” she re
turned coolly. “Why would you think otherwise?”

He blinked. “No reason,” he muttered. He ges
tured toward the sofa.

“May we sit?”

“Certainly.”

She took a seat at the end of the sofa. A mistake, for he sat on the chair next to it, so close their knees almost brushed. A treacherous warmth shot through her at his nearness. She fought against it with all that she possessed, suddenly trembling inside.

“This is awkward,” he said.

“Is it? I hadn’t noticed.”

He said nothing, but she felt his gaze scouring her features, as if he were puzzled.

She sat very still while he took her hands.

“Devon,” he said huskily, “I came here to ask you a question.”

“What question?” It was odd, the way she felt, as if she weren’t the one who sat here with Sebastian—as if she were a stranger.

A shattering pause, and then, softly, he said, “Will you marry me?”

Her heart gave a feeble thud, then began to thun
der. Her blood rushed in her ears. She was surely los
ing her mind. No, she thought vaguely, it couldn’t be. Sebastian . . . asking her to marry him?

Oh, God.
God
.

A rending, tearing pain sliced through her. Two days ago she’d have hurtled herself into his arms,
crying out in unbelievable joy. But his proposal...

this
proposal...came too late.

A curious tightness settled over her.

“No,” she said succinctly.

The flicker of uncertainty that flitted across his handsome features was gratifying. Little did he real
ize she was simmering inside.

“I beg your pardon?”

There was no need for pretense. There never had been, not with the two of them.

She withdrew her hands and linked them together in her lap. Baldly she spoke. “I said no. I will not marry you.”

His every feature seemed to freeze. He was shocked. Stung.

But he was also angry. His lips compressed. He looked utterly ominous. He got to his feet, towering over her, his jaw clenched hard. His eyes narrowed dangerously. “You can’t refuse me.”

Her own glinted. “I believe I just did.” Softly, al
most whimsically, she met his regard. “You don’t un
derstand, do you? No, of course you wouldn’t. No doubt you, my noble lord, expected me to fall on my knees and gush my gratitude that you would deign to marry me, a nobody. But I confess, I’m curious. Would you have lain with me if I were a proper lady? If Penelope Harding were to be your bride, would you have taken her to your bed without benefit of marriage?”

A dull flush crept beneath his skin. With his hand he made a curt, dismissive gesture. “It does not sig
nify,” he said shortly. “I had no such feelings toward Penelope.”

“It does signify!” Devon hissed, and all at once she
was on her feet. “To me it signifies! Tell me, Sebast ian. It’s a simple question, is it not? Would you have made...Oh, how shall I put this? Would you have made advances toward your future bride? To any woman you would have considered making your wife? A kiss, perhaps, I think. But no more, surely. You see, I know you. The woman you would take to wife...You would have waited till your wedding night to make her yours.”

He made a sound. “Do not belittle what we had”— his gaze drilled into hers—“what we
have
. Why, you make it sound as if I used you for my own pleasure!”

“Perhaps you did!” she shot back. “Perhaps I was just a woman to
tumble
to ease your need!”

“I did not
tumble
you!” Anger kindled in his voice. “By God, Devon, you make me want to shake you . . . And you forget, you wanted me as much as I wanted you!”

This time she was the one who flushed. “I did,” she allowed. “I blame myself as well, for I allowed you liberties that should only belong to a husband.”

“Goddamn it, that’s what I want. To be your hus
band!”

Her laugh was brittle. “I recall differently. That day with Justin at Thurston Hall, you made your feelings abundantly clear...you would bed me, but you would certainly never
wed
me.”

“I came here to rectify my mistake. I was wrong, Devon. Wrong. I was a fool. I knew it the other night. Oh, I know you may not believe me, but I swear, I in
tended to ask you yesterday morning. But then the duchess arrived, and ...and I’m asking you now. Again. Marry me, Devon.
Marry me.
”

Tears slipped down her face. She dashed them
away. “You’re right,” she said flatly. “I don’t believe
you. And I will never marry you.”

“Devon, listen to me! I came here to explain—”

“What, that you’ve reconsidered? Well,
I
need not consider at all, sir. You are a hypocrite, you who pre
tend to be so staid. So proper. But I have principles too. I have feelings. No doubt you regarded me as no more than a convenience to warm your bed when it suited you. Who would know? After all, what was I but a woman of no consequence.”

“You know better than that, Devon.” Sharply he censured her.

In some part of her, Devon
did
know it. Her con
science stabbed at her, but she was too full of angry hurt to listen, overcome with the starkness of betrayal.

“Only a fool wouldn’t see through you, and I am not a fool. You wouldn’t consider making me your wife when you believed me a street urchin. Ah, but what do you know! Bastard I may be, but now that you’ve discovered my grandmother is a duchess... apparently now you’ve deemed me worthy!”

She looked at him then, her mouth quivering. Her voice trembled with all that she felt. Buried in her fury was a world of anguish. With every word, con
viction gathered full and ripe within her.

“You wouldn’t have me, Sebastian.
You wouldn’t have me
. Well, now I won’t have
you
! You thought I wasn’t good enough for you. But you—you’re not good enough for me!”

Strong hands clamped down on her shoulders, dragging her close. The cast of his jaw was rigid. “You love me,” he said tautly. “I know it.”

“Oh!” she cried. “You presume too much, sir!”

His eyes impaled her, as stormy as the seas. “Yes,”
he said fiercely, “I do presume, for I know you too, my little love! The night I made you mine will burn in my soul forever. I will never forget the way you melted when I kissed you—the way you shuddered when I came inside you! And when it was over . . . Remember what you said? ‘I belong to you,’ ” he quoted. “You said you belonged to me!”

Devon fumed. “And you have just reminded me of something as well. What was it? Ah, yes, now I re
call. To hell with the future, you claimed. To hell with duty. Well, my lord marquess, to hell with
you
!”

ooking neither right nor left, Devon climbed the curving staircase straight to her room. After closing the door, she strode to the seat set beneath the high, mullioned window on the wall opposite the bed. Picking up a frilly pink pillow, she stared into the shadows that had begun to fall over the city.

There was a knock on the door. “My dear?”

It was the duchess. The door opened a crack, and the elderly woman stepped inside. Feeling utterly empty inside, Devon watched her halting gait as she crossed the room.

“My dear, forgive the intrusion, but I had to see for myself that you are all right.”

“I’m fine,” Devon said dully.

The duchess peered at her. “Why, you’re shiver
ing!” she fretted. After rifling through the armoire, the duchess tugged a shawl over Devon’s shoulders.

“It breaks my heart to see you so miserable, child. Is there anything I can do?”

Devon gave a shake of her head. Perhaps the old woman meant well, but she had no intention of dis
cussing Sebastian with anyone, most certainly not her grandmother.

“My dear, I could not help but overhear.”

No doubt, Devon thought numbly. Of course she’d overheard. No doubt everyone in the household had overheard.

“Of course you needn’t marry Sebastian if you don’t want to. Indeed, you needn’t ever marry.”

Devon’s fingers curled around the ends of the shawl. “Truly?” she whispered.

“Unless it’s what you want, of course. Call it self
ish, but I’m quite content to have you all to myself.” The duchess smiled slightly.

“Thank you for that ...Grandmama.” Odd, but the word suddenly didn’t sound so foreign on her lips.

The duchess leaned on her cane. “When I was a girl, every marriage was arranged. Your grandfather and I got on well enough together, but the world is beginning to change, and I daresay, it’s about time. More and more one hears of those those who choose to defy convention and marry for love. They are lucky, I think. Indeed, to marry for love ...why, it’s what I wish for every young woman.” The duchess’s tone had grown very softly whimsical. “Ah. But I can see you would rather be alone, my dear.” The duchess turned.

But all at once to be alone was the very thing Dev
on
didn’t
want. “Grandmama, wait,” she cried. The duchess turned back inquiringly. “Please stay,” she said haltingly. “Please.” An unbearable ache then
crowded her chest. Suddenly her shoulders were shaking soundlessly.

The next thing she knew, the duchess sank down beside her and gathered her close. Neither of them questioned what happened next. There existed be
tween them a bond that transcended time, the years spent apart. “Cry, dear, if you must.”

Devon turned her face into her shoulder. “Grand
mama,” she choked out. “He...I...”

She could manage no more. Nor, it seemed, was there any need.

Holding back her own tears, the duchess patted her shoulder. “I understand, my dear. Truly I do.”

And indeed, the duchess did.

The effects of an entire bottle of brandy did little to quell Sebastian’s guilt or his pain. Self-loathing poured through him like boiling oil. Hunched over his desk, he jabbed his fingers into his forehead, as if to gouge out his memories . . .

He started when a small, warm body sidled into his lap. A cold, wet nose nudged beneath his palm.

Blurry eyes focused on the furry little creature. In some distant part of his mind, he marveled that he’d remembered to bring Dumpling and the pups. “Dumpling,” he said, “she’s not here.”

The mongrel tipped her head to the side and whined. And now they were all here—the General, the Colonel, the Major, and the Captain—pawing at his knees and whining pitifully.

He lunged to his feet. “She’s not coming back,” he shouted. “Don’t you see, she’s not coming back!”

The whining ebbed. One by one, the little crea
tures lined up in a half circle before him. He groaned. In the end it was those sad, soulful eyes that sent him stumbling headlong through the doors.

Before he knew it he was standing in the library. Devon’s favorite room, he recalled with a pang.

If I lived here
, came the echo in his mind,
I should make it a point to read every book in this room.

But she didn’t live here. She would
never
live here, and the knowledge was like a stake through the heart.

He went a little mad then. Flinging out an arm, he swung it wide. Vases crashed and volumes toppled from the shelves onto the floor.

The door opened. The butler Stokes appeared, and several of the housemaids behind him. “My lord—”

“Get out!” he roared. “All of you!”

One by one they began to retreat. Justin had ap
peared as well, having just come home.

“Sebastian!” came his sharp rebuke. “Good God, what the hell—”

Sebastian’s head came up. He regarded his brother through burning eyes.

“If you’ve come to gloat,” he said through his teeth, “don’t bother.”

Justin simply looked at him in shock.

Sebastian closed his eyes. “Christ,” he muttered. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Justin closed the door and looked him up and down. “You’re foxed!” he said incredulously.

“Am I? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Sebastian, what the
hell
is going on? You were in a devil of a mood this morning so I left you alone. Now I return home to find the servants looking like
you’ve beaten them to a pulp, and you reducing the
library to a shambles!”

“That’s not all.”

“What, there’s more?”

“There is. I yelled at Dumpling and the pups.”

“Admirable.”

Sebastian weaved toward a side table for another bottle of brandy.

Justin snatched it up before he could reach it. He pushed Sebastian into a chair. “No more of that for you,” he said impatiently. “Tell me what’s going on.”

Sebastian slumped forward. He hung his head in his hands. “She’s never coming back,” he said in an odd, strained voice.

Justin caught his breath. “She’s with her grand
mother—”

“You don’t understand,” Sebastian ground out. “She’s never coming back here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that she hates me, dammit! She
hates
me!”

Justin shook his head. “That can’t be—”

“Believe me, it’s true,” Sebastian said bitterly.

Justin went pale. “Oh, Christ, this is all my fault.”

“No, it’s mine, Justin.
Mine
. You were right, Justin. From the beginning, I wanted her. I burned for her. Oh, I fought it. I told myself I could control my yearning for her. But then we went to Thurston Hall—”

“And I came up with that bloody, harebrained scheme to marry her off!”

“Don’t blame yourself. Please don’t. I was con vinced it was the right thing to do as well. I thought it was the only way I could keep my hands off her. But that night with Evans and Mason and West
field...She heard us, Justin. She heard us and she
knew what we planned...”

“Oh, God.”

“She cried, Justin. She
cried
. And I couldn’t stand it. I should have left her alone, but I didn’t. I told my
self I wanted to make her stop hurting.” His tone rang black with self-disparagement. “But I was self
ish. I wanted her and I-I took her. And then you came back and saw us . . . Remember how she looked at me? Dry-eyed. Immobile. My God, I’ve never seen anyone who looked the way she did, as if”—he floundered—“as if she were bruised inside. And I did it.
I
put that look on her face.”

Justin glanced down at his hands. His expression was drawn and tight.

“No!” Sebastian said sharply. “This is not your fault! Because you were right, you see. You’ve been right all along. I thought only of duty and obligation—and it all seems so petty now! My hesitation cost me everything! I was so blinded by my determi
nation to avoid any scandal that I couldn’t see what lay before my eyes . . .”

Justin’s gaze never wavered from his face. Softly he said, “You love her, don’t you?”

Sebastian nodded. His mouth twisted. “I thought I could make things right. I went to her and I-I asked her to marry me.” A brutal silence descended. “She denied me. With tears streaming down her face, she denied me. Not once, but thrice.
Thrice
.”

“She was confused, Sebastian. This whole busi
ness with the duchess—my word, I can hardly be
lieve it myself.”

“I know that. I know it,” Sebastian stressed. “But truth be told, I can hardly blame her. I couldn’t jus
tify my behavior to myself, let alone to Devon! But in my arrogance, I never even considered the possibil ity that she would say no.”

Little by little, the strength drained from his limbs until he was trembling. If he hadn’t already been sit
ting, he’d have surely collapsed.

“I robbed her of her innocence,” he whispered bleakly. “I robbed her of hope. I stole her pride. I thought only of my own, of duty and responsibility...and sacrificed Devon’s in the bargain. I took everything from her, Justin. I
stole
it from her, and I will never forgive myself.
Devon
will never forgive me.
Never
.”

Justin regarded Sebastian. “And that’s it? You’re going to give up?”

Sebastian’s mouth twisted. “What! Don’t you think I’ve hurt her enough?”

“She loves you, Sebastian. I saw it that day at Thurston Hall.”

“I thought she did too. But now I’m not so sure. You didn’t see the blaze in her eyes, Justin. The way she looked at me ...she despises me!”

“I cannot believe that, Sebastian.” Justin was adamant. “I was the one who was blind. I thought I was protecting her, and so did you. But you and Dev
on, it’s so very clear...you belong together, the two of you.” His half smile held a familiar trace of mock
ery. “Why, it’s almost enough to make a skeptic like me believe in love.”

Sebastian said nothing, but stared unblinking into the shadows.

Justin clamped a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll change her mind.”

“I won’t!” Sebastian cried the words that tore
them both to shreds. “My God, Justin, you didn’t see her!”

Justin pressed his lips together consideringly. Leaning forward, he wasted no time rapping his brother sharply in the forehead with his knuckles.

Sebastian’s jaw fell open in shock. He lurched to his feet, staring at his brother.

Justin rose as well, extending an arm again. Sebastian’s hand shot out and grabbed his wrist before Justin could knock him in the head again.

“Bloody hell,” he swore, “are you trying to pick a fight?”

“Not at all,” Justin intoned politely. “Though I do believe in your present state you’d lose.”