Page 55 of Soulbound

"Circumstances?"

"Your husband's in the garden," the woman whispered, leaning close to her. "But I'd give him a few more minutes to regain his composure at least."

With a knowing smirk, the woman withdrew a small compact mirror from her reticule and began to powder her nose.

Cleo blinked at her. Sebastian... in the garden. "Are you trying to hint that you and my husband were having a rendezvous out there?" she asked incredulously.

The woman snapped her compact shut, and gave her a world-weary smile. "Oh, my poor sweet child. Don't take it personally. Men have such appetites—"

"I don't take it personally," Cleo interrupted. "I find the idea ludicrous."

"Ludicrous?"

"You would have to know my husband," Cleo explained politely. "He's not the sort to take a lover, or even to flirt with other woman."

"I do know your husband." The woman brushed past her, as if to go, but paused at the last moment. "Intimately. Perhaps you should thank me. Everything he knows, he learned from me."

And then she was gone, leaving Cleo gaping behind her.

A sliver of unease went through her. He didn't want to touch her, but he'd been with... with this woman?

And then it all suddenly made a perfect sort of sense.

"It was never about making love, Cleo. All they ever wanted from me was fucking."

His mother had sold him to others for the night, and he'd hinted that there'd been nothing he could do about it. The heat drained out of her face. "That bitch," she whispered. For she'd bet her entire life the woman had been one of Morgana's friends, and Sebastian's tormentors.

And now he was out there in the gardens alone, and that uneasy feeling she'd been having for the past half hour suddenly made sense. Despite the way he'd locked her out of his mind, his emotions had been leaking through his shields. That was what made her skin itch.

Whatever the strange woman might claim, Sebastian wasn't recovering from an interlude. He was violently angry, and.... She felt a mix of a half dozen other emotions; guilt, rage, some horrible, twisting emotion that made her stomach want to roil.

She had to find him.

Cleo pushed through the doors, standing on the terrace and staring out into the night. Lantern-light warmed the garden, but there were a dozen pockets of darkness. Closing her eyes, she felt for him.

There.

And not alone, either.

Scurrying down onto the gravel path, she headed for the fountain where Sebastian and Lord Rathbourne were deep in conversation.

"Ah." Rathbourne spotted her first, a sure sign her husband was emotionally compromised. "I think your lovely wife has come to call, and I'm sure you'd prefer her company to mine."

Sebastian looked over his shoulder, and she was struck by the sharp lines of his face. In the pale moonlight, his eyes looked like black holes. Empty of even a single emotion, though she could feel them through the bond.

Muted now. Not quite as furious. Not quite as murderous. Whatever he'd been speaking about with Rathbourne, it had calmed him a little.

Rathbourne excused himself, giving her a faint nod, and she saw the warning in his eyes as he moved past her, heading back to the ball to give the pair of them a little privacy. Proceed with caution, his eyes said.

Cleo waited until he was out of earshot, and then moved closer, the wind stirring her skirts.

"I'm sorry," Sebastian said, in a hollow voice. "I find I'm not very good company tonight. You should go back to the ball. It's your first one. I wouldn't want you to miss it."

Cleo rested a hand lightly on his sleeve, and he stilled. "I couldn't go back," she said. "I wouldn't enjoy a moment of it, knowing you were out here, and that she'd hurt you."

"She?" He looked dangerous tonight, the moonlight reflecting silver in his eyes.

But she'd never been frightened. This was her Sebastian. Despite everything, he'd never scared her, and though he might not love her, he'd protected her against her father and his mother. He'd sacrificed himself for her, when his mother kidnapped her.