Page 30

It was no small feat to discomfit Sebastian Drake.

“I wish to speak with you,” she said.

“You might’ve sent a note.”

“I might have,” she said. “But I did not. I am feeling impatient today.”

“And how will you be feeling when the servant gossip from your call makes its way through London?” he asked grimly.

She shrugged, thoroughly unconcerned.

He grimaced, then pulled the blue waistcoat from his bed. “What is it you wish to speak of?”

“Let us be frank with one another for once, Sebastian,” she said. “You have no intention of marrying me once my fortune is gone, and I certainly have no intention of marrying a fortune hunter.”

“Something you might have considered before accepting my offer of marriage last night,” he said with a tight dryness as he slipped his arms through his waistcoat.

A little scoffing laugh escaped her. “The offer you fully expected me to refuse, you mean?”

“And the offer you only accepted so that you could rip your fortune from me the moment you made me believe I would have it?”

It was his first admission that he had only sought her for her fortune, and it felt like an arrow through her heart.

She dug her nails into her palms in an effort to distract herself from the pain. “Forgive me if I seem unmoved by the disappointment you have suffered.”

“No, indeed.” He took a step toward her, his waistcoat hanging open, the buttons forgotten. “You have gone to great lengths to intensify that disappointment, have you not? Making me believe my suit was welcome to you?—”

She shot to her feet. “While you tried to make me believe your affection for me genuine. ”

“It is!” he nearly shouted.

There was a shattering silence, the only sound that of Selina’s strong heartbeat, pulsing against her ribs.

They stared at each other from a half-dozen feet away, their nostrils flared, their eyes alight.

“Was,” he corrected, his voice less intense. “Until I discovered I was nothing but a game to you.”

She scoffed. “Oh, that is rich indeed! Poor Sebastian Drake seeks women for their fortunes and has his heart broken when they do not grovel and worship him in the process.”

“And poor Selina Lawrence, acquires a fortune through marriage, then takes offense when a man seeks her with the same intent.”

Her teeth ground against each other, and she stepped toward him so that their faces were mere inches apart.

“I did not seek a fortune—I was pushed into marriage. And I suffered dearly as a result. You, on the other hand, schemed and strategized, trying to charm your way into my heart when my money was your true aim.”

His focus on her flickered, but their gazes held. The responsive fire in his had dimmed, however, and it stoked her anger more.

How dare he back down at this moment when she wanted a battle? For weeks, she had been bridling her anger, channeling it into narrow paths, and now that she was able to give it full rein, he was uninclined to fight.

“Do you deny it?” she challenged, advancing toward him.

His brown eyes searched hers, then without warning, they dipped to her mouth.

Her breath stuttered—not from fear or even fury, but from something deep and traitorous.

Would he dare kiss her?

Her spine held firm at the thought but in her knees were the whisperings of surrender.

If a kiss was the only way he would engage with her, she would give him battle.

He stepped back and broke his gaze away. “This arguing is futile. All that remains to be discussed is what is to be done now.”

Selina blinked at the abrupt shift in the air and let out the breath she had been holding, ignoring the flash of disappointment in her chest. Only a woman desperate for love and affection would settle for a kiss from a man who had just admitted to hunting her like a fox in the fields.

“It is safe to assume that word has made its way round the ton ,” he said, buttoning up his waistcoat, “which makes the situation precarious.”

“And why is that?”

He looked at her for the first time since that electrifying moment. “Your opinion of me is obviously low, Selina, but I have no wish to mark your reputation with scandal.”

“As you well know, Sebastian,” she said with a falsely sweet smile, “there are plenty of gentlemen more than willing to overlook the scandal of a brief engagement for the sake of my fortune.”

His mouth tightened into a thin line. “Perhaps you could store up all the barbed comments about my character until we have settled the matter of how to proceed.”

“Oh, I have been storing them up. For weeks. I am simply unable to contain them any longer. But your conscience may rest, assuming you possess such a thing. I have no intention of entering into matrimony a second time, which means the subject of my reputation need not concern you. Nor need it concern anyone. It certainly does not concern me .”

He stared at her for a long moment, making her feel as though she was the one in a state of undress when it was his collar that was twisted ridiculously. “Very well.” He took his tailcoat from the bed. “Spread it about that our engagement has come to an end whenever you wish. Today, even. ”

“Why must I be the one to do so?” How very like him it was to put the difficult task on her.

He shot her a confused look as he shrugged into his coat. “I assumed you would prefer it. You may not regard your reputation as it concerns prospects of marriage, but I would think it far preferable for you to be the one who ended an engagement rather than the one jilted.”

Dash him for being honorable about it! And dash that ridiculous collar on his coat, which was still twisted.

She pressed her lips together and stepped toward him. “You look absurd with your collar like that.”

He watched her warily as she reached to adjust it.

His eyes rested on her as she did so, setting her heart beating faster than she liked.

He claimed that his affection for her had at one time been genuine. Not for a second did she believe such a thing, but it seemed a strange thing for him to say when his ruse was already spoiled.

She hated how much she wanted to believe it.

She finished with the collar and stepped back.

“Thank you,” he said stiffly.

The door burst open, and Selina whirled toward it in time to see three children hurry through. For the briefest of moments, Selina thought them her own nieces and nephews, but a quick glance at the eldest of the three—a girl—put such a thought to rest.

The servant who had admitted Selina stood outside of the doorway, looking helpless and resigned.

“Sebastian!” said one of two young boys as all three children charged toward him.

Selina stepped aside, realizing she was an obstacle.

The children thrust their arms around Sebastian, whose eyes were wide with shock as he submitted to the tangle of limbs.

“What in heaven’s name is this?” His arms wrapped around the children, the eldest of whose head came up to his chin .

The three of them were in a sad state, their clothing dusty at the hems, their faces, which were turned to rest against Sebastian now, dirty as well.

Who in the world were they?

“How did you…?” Sebastian did not finish but held them more tightly to him still.

The eldest pulled back, and the younger two boys followed suit.

“How do you come to be here, Margaret?” Sebastian asked.

Margaret clasped her hands in front of her chest. “I am sorry, but we could not remain with him a moment longer. I remembered your direction, and you said if the situation became more dire…”

“Of course.” Sebastian’s brow pinched. “I am not angry, simply worried and taken by surprise. Did you come on the stagecoach?”

All three shook their heads.

“On the Mail,” the youngest boy said, and his dirty cheeks turned up in a little mischievous smile. “I got to ride with the coachman for a stage.”

“And handle the reins,” the older boy said sulkily.

Margaret exchanged a speaking look with Sebastian, whose mouth pulled up at one corner in incredulous amusement.

“Then it is an even greater miracle that you have all arrived intact.”

“The coachman said I was a bang up whip, Sebastian,” the boy said as someone defending his honor.

“Felix,” Margaret said censoriously.

“Did he now?” Sebastian asked, his eyes alight with amusement. “I am sure he was right.”

“Who is she ?” The older boy stared at Selina.

“Hugo,” Margaret rebuked him.

Sebastian’s gaze flitted to Selina, and his smile faded, as though he had forgotten her presence and did not find the reminder welcome.

“What?” Hugo asked of Margaret. “She is in his bedchamber, after all.”

Selina pulled her lips between her teeth to stop a smile while her cheeks filled with heat.

The bravado with which she had entered Sebastian’s bedchamber had long since fled, and while nothing Sebastian himself could have said would have embarrassed her, this young Hugo had successfully managed to awaken her sense of propriety.

“This is Mrs. Lawrence,” Sebastian said with a hint of tightness in his voice and his own color heightened. “She is…”

“You may call me Selina,” Selina said. “And to whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?”

Margaret glanced at Sebastian, who was staring at Selina, then stepped forward. “I am Margaret Hollis.”

Selina smiled kindly at her. “I am very happy to make your acquaintance, Miss Hollis.”

Margaret must have been no more than thirteen or fourteen, but she carried herself with a maturity beyond that. It was evident she was accustomed to taking charge, despite her youth.

She made a curtsy—unpolished but not awkward—then turned to the boys. “These are my brothers, Hugo and Felix—and Sebastian, of course, whom you obviously know.”

Selina’s smile flickered, and her gaze swept back to Sebastian.

He watched her, his expression sober.

Had she understood correctly?

These three children were Sebastian’s siblings ?