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And why would Mrs. Lawrence say such things about Pip and her late husband if they were untrue?

It seemed that she herself must have acquired Pip, but then why claim him as her husband’s? And why be so thankful to Sebastian for taking care of him if she was fond enough of the monkey to have chosen him as her own pet?

And then there was the bit about hunting.

Sebastian assumed she had spared his pride out of sympathy or due to a desire to spend time with him, regardless of what it required. But what if…

A growing unease began to creep into Sebastian’s chest.

What if the reason behind all of it was not benign? What if it was the opposite?

He frowned.

No. If Mrs. Lawrence had heard tales of his reputation, she would not go to such trouble to tease him—allowing him to make a fool of himself over hunting equipment, acquiring a monkey and foisting it upon him. She would have simply rebuffed him instead.

Wouldn’t she?

She can be quite stubborn when her will is crossed.

The maid approached, a little burlap sack in her hand, which she held out to him. “There you are, sir.”

“Thank you,” he said absently.

She curtsied and turned to go.

“Wait.”

She stopped and faced him again, waiting for his orders, though her eyes darted down the corridor, no doubt to ensure the housekeeper was not near.

He hesitated, trying to decide how to form his question. “What made Mrs. Lawrence acquire Pip?”

“I couldn’t say, sir. The monkey made quite a stir when he first arrived, as you can imagine, but Mrs. Lawrence promised us it would only be the one night. ”

Heartbeat pulsing in his neck, Sebastian smiled at her. “Thank you.”

She gave another curtsy, then left him to his thoughts, which raced.

Perhaps he was going mad, but it sounded as though Mrs. Lawrence had acquired Pip with the sole intent of sending him home with Sebastian, knowing full well the chaos that would ensue.

And she had done it by making him think Pip had been a cherished pet of her late husband’s, who had been giving her trouble since her arrival in Town.

A muffled laugh from down the corridor yanked him from his thoughts, and he looked down at the sack in his hand.

The children were waiting outside. The children Mrs. Lawrence had left him with yesterday while she went to see to the stain on her clothing.

The stain that had still been there when she returned nearly half an hour later.

And today Aunt Selina gave us as many helpings of marzipan as we wanted!

It was almost as though she had done it on purpose, then left him with the children to fend for himself.

He tried to find other explanations for each of the circumstances, but the pieces fit together but one way.

There was no way around it: she knew. She knew his reputation and was trying to make a fool of him. She had purposely made him believe he had a chance of winning her hand, when all this time, she was wasting his time. His precious time.

His chest clenched painfully, and he swallowed the feeling of betrayal rising in his throat. A sense of loss was bubbling beneath it.

Had none of it been real, then? None of the moments he had come to look forward to, none of the camaraderie he had felt with her?

It had all been a lie, a cruel game at his expense .

Sebastian’s jaw tightened. She could not be permitted to get away with such a thing.

With purposeful steps, he strode toward the drawing room, only to check mid-stride.

He could not barge in and read her a lecture in front of her sister-in-law. And what would he say even if he did?

No, he needed to allow his temper to cool. Only then could he think properly about what should be done next. All he knew was that he would no longer play the fool.

He strode back to the garden, his pulse thrumming as he considered his next move.

The children were still congregated at the trunk of the tree, Randall standing behind them.

“Ah, there you are.” Randall looked behind Sebastian, as though he might see his sister or his wife. “What is taking the women so long, I wonder?”

Sebastian could not even bring himself to answer, but Randall did not require a reply. “I will go ensure nothing has befallen them.”

What he imagined could befall two adult women in one of the finest townhouses in London, Sebastian did not know.

It was a thin excuse to leave, but he did not prevent the man’s departure.

He was too grateful to be left alone with his thoughts, his mind too occupied to engage in meaningful conversation.

The children came over, and he absently ceded the sack of bonbons to them, hardly caring whether Pip went on a sugar-crazed rampage as a result. Mrs. Lawrence deserved that her garden be torn to shreds.

Minutes must have passed when the children ran up to Sebastian and pulled him from his abstraction.

“Mr. Drake,” Teddy said urgently. “He found a pigeon.”

“Hm?” Sebastian felt as though he had missed something important.

“Pip,” Arthur clarified. “He found a pigeon. Come see.”

The tide of their demand was simply too strong to be ignored, and Sebastian followed them to where Pip was, indeed, holding a pigeon.

A dead pigeon, it seemed, for it did not flutter or struggle against Pip’s handling.

“Did he kill it?” Sebastian asked. The monkey was not generally violent, but Sebastian would not have bet against the possibility if someone laid him odds.

“I believe it was already dead,” Arthur said.

A little, distinctive sniff drew Sebastian’s attention from the spectacle.

A few feet away, Lou stood with her thumb in her mouth and her eyes full of tears.

“Oh, dear,” Sebastian said, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket.

“Kitty, will you see to Princess Lou? I will handle the pigeon. Arthur, keep Pip near, if you will.” He draped the handkerchief over the pigeon.

“Why don’t you all find hiding spots in the garden, and I will come find you presently?

” The corner of his mouth quirked. “The last one to be found wins a trip to Gunter’s with Aunt Selina—and as many helpings of ice cream as desired. ”

The children scattered immediately, and Sebastian hurried toward the door that led inside.