Page 16 of The Virgin Widow

16

Agatha marveled at what had become of her life over the last two weeks. She had not slept a night without Sebastian in nearly that entire time. Most nights he’d come to her—or send for her—and he’d ravish her until they were both boneless and sated. Then he’d pull her body close and they’d sleep.

She knew when he decided she had learned enough—when he bored of her—her heart would shatter. But she’d decided that Mr. Tennyson was right and it was better to have loved and lost than to have never known love. She did too. She loved Sebastian with every part of her.

Last night he’d come to her bed and they hadn’t made love, he’d simply held her. He’d been gone this morning when she woke, She’d missed seeing his cranky, sleepy face, as he complained about the brightness of the sun and the speed with which dawn came.

“Mind if I join you?” Violet asked before lowering herself into a chair.

“Of course not, this is your home.”

“It is your home too for as long as you want it to be.”

She smiled, but didn’t say anything. She would love to stay here and for Sebastian to keep calling on her, but she knew their time was limited.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Violet asked.

“I’ve fallen in love with him,” she said.

“I feared as much. How do you feel about that?”

Agatha released a watery laugh. “Conflicted. He’s amazing. Truly. But I know this won’t last forever. I know that up here.” She tapped on the side of her head. “In here though,” she pressed her palm against her heart. “In here I imagine all of the ways he’ll confess his undying love for me too and we’ll be together forever. I am a fool.”

Violet reached over and squeezed Agatha’s knee. “No, you are not a fool. Love is never wasted. Loving him has changed you. Being loved by you has no doubt changed him. There is no foolishness there. And you never know how things will end up. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Aggie, he very much looks like a man in love.”

Agatha snorted. “I doubt that very much. You’ve seen him. He could have any woman he wanted.”

“Perhaps. But perhaps not. You are forgetting he is a bastard. One of the Notorious Bastards, no less. He has been judged and ridiculed for that his entire life.”

“My lord, you cannot simply barge in—” the butler called from out in the hall.

Then the parlor door swung open to reveal the Duke of Lancaster.

“Can I not leave town for a fortnight without learning that my betrothed has begun a relationship with one of my bastard sons?” he boomed.

“Oh, dear,” Violet said.

The duke entered the room and glared at Violet. “Privacy with my soon-to-be-bride, if you will.”

Violet didn’t move. “I will not. I don’t care who you are or what your title is, this is my home and I will occupy whatever room I wish. Furthermore, Agatha is not your betrothed and I don’t like the tone in which you’re speaking to her. So I believe I shall stay right where I am.” She crossed her arms over her chest for good measure.

“Insolent,” the duke muttered. Then he turned his ire back to Agatha. “I hope you realize that whatever promises he made to you mean nothing. He is doing this merely to annoy me. I do not publicly claim him and it’s always angered him. His brother doesn’t seem to care one way or another. But Sebastian,” he practically spat the name. “You would shame me in such a way?”

But Agatha couldn’t even bother to be embarrassed, she was still reeling from the news that this was Sebastian’s father. She felt sick. He’d used her and she’d fallen for him like a brainless twit.

“I will still marry you, but we need to secure a special license and marry immediately to salvage this situation.”

Agatha said nothing. Just sat feeling hollow and undone. She took a shaky breath, then came to her feet. “If you’re excuse me, my lord, I’m suddenly not feeling well. I believe I need to retire to my bedchamber and lie down.”

She left the duke sputtering about her audacity and climbed the stairs. Somehow she made it into her room, then went to stand next to the bed. She picked up the pillow where Sebastian had slept and brought it to her nose, inhaling deeply. The masculine scent of him lingered.

All this time she’d thought he agreed to tutor her out of the goodness of his heart, when in reality he’d been playing a game of revenge. She’d been nothing more than a pawn on his chessboard.