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Whatever happened now with Prince Sebastian, she must trust it would be for the best.

And so she sang, wholeheartedly, her clear soprano rising above the harmonies in the cool winter air.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Earlier that afternoon…

Once his mind was made up, Sebastian tried to distract himself from thoughts of Eliana by throwing himself into his preparations to depart England. The prospect left him feeling half in sun, half in shadow, like a waning moon in the night sky.

On the one hand, it was high time for a change, to take his future in his hands and move forward. On the other, his heart was heavy with the mistakes he’d made in London, the might-have-been that had shone briefly in Eliana Banning’s eyes.

At least he would see her once more. He hoped she would not spurn his gift of the snowflake pendant, though it now seemed a foolish gesture. Still, the necklace was finished and delivered, and he could not leave without some acknowledgement of what he’d glimpsed between them.

His first call of the afternoon, however, would be at Ashford House.

“The Duke of Ashford’s greatcoat has been brushed out,” Reece said, presenting him with the garment folded into a bulky bundle. “You could return it by footman, of course.”

“I’ll do it myself.” Sebastian finished pulling on his gloves, then donned his hat.

“Very good, your highness.” Reece’s face was impassive, but his clipped words were disapproving. “Your carriage is waiting.”

His valet was of the firm opinion that they ought to remain in London, and that Sebastian should court Eliana Banning until she agreed to be his wife. Sebastian had tried to explain why that was impossible. She’d made it abundantly clear she did not want to see him again. And when she did, he didn’t expect her opinion of him to alter one bit.

“You ought to tell her the truth,” Reece said. “Tell her you never promised to ask that other lady to marry you.”

Ever since the debacle at last year’s Midwinter Masque, Reece had refused to say Lady Peony’s name aloud. It was both tragic and amusing to Sebastian.

“That other womanis Eliana’s friend,” he said. “Eliana would think I was defaming Lady Peony, and her mind would remain unchanged. The scene would be quite ugly, I assure you. It’s better to say nothing of what transpired last year.”

Under his valet’s stony gaze, Sebastian pocketed the box holding the snowflake necklace, scooped up Ashford’s coat, and headed out the door.

The sky was overcast, matching his gray mood as he stepped into his carriage. The driver set off for Ashford House, and Sebastian watched the streets of Mayfair pass outside the window. Now that he was leaving, he had to admit to a grudging fondness for the city. Where would he end up? Vienna, perhaps, or Paris? Or—he laughed bitterly to himself—Kiev?

He disembarked in front of the Duke of Ashford’s town house. The tree in the window was lit, the candles glowing with warmth against the wan afternoon light.

The butler admitted him with a bow, accepted the return of the coat, and directed Sebastian to wait in the parlor while he summoned Lord and Lady Ashford, who, it seemed, were both at home that afternoon.

The parlor was newly decorated with evergreen boughs and holly branches twined together with gold ribbons. A fire blazed in the hearth, and the air was suffused with the scent of cinnamon. A long table against the far wall held a warming bowl filled with mulled wine, and trays of sweets and candied fruits were set out to either side.

It appeared Lord and Lady Ashford were about to host a party of some kind. Well, Sebastian would give them his thanks and farewell, and be on his way.

While he waited, he inspected the tree. In addition to the beaded ornaments and gilded nuts, a few trinkets were tucked here and there among the branches. He spotted a tiny porcelain teapot, a miniature stuffed bear, and a carved globe, before his hosts made their entrance.

“Prince Sebastian,” Lady Ashford said with a warm smile. “What a pleasant surprise. You’re just in time for our party.”

“I don’t mean to intrude,” he replied. “I only came to thank you both for your assistance the other day. And to tell you I’m leaving England.”

“You are?” Lady Ashford’s smile faded. “But what about Eliana?”

“I beg your pardon?” Sebastian blinked at her.

“You must forgive my wife,” the duke said, slipping his arm around her shoulders. “She simply wants to see her sister happy, and somehow got the notion that the two of you would suit.”

“I’m afraid we would not.” Despite himself, Sebastian’s fingers went to the small box in his pocket containing the diamond-set snowflake.

“Are you certain?” The duchess gave him a serious look. “I truly don’t think you ought to leave London just yet.”

“Darling, don’t pester the man,” Lord Ashford said. “If he feels he must depart, it’s not for us to argue otherwise.”