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Chapter Twenty-One

Sebastian

S ebastian had not told the children. He had fully intended to, for he had been sincere in what he had said to Selina: the last thing he wanted was to saddle the children with more disappointment after all they had been through.

But when the time had come for such a disclosure, his courage had failed him. They were so happy, so carefree for the first time in recent memory, and he had not been able to persuade himself to bring down their spirits.

He could only protect them from unwelcome truths for so long, however.

Sir,

You are hereby summoned to appear before the Court of Chancery for the purpose of presenting evidence and testimony in the matter concerning the guardianship of the minor children, to wit: Margaret Hollis, Hugo Hollis, and Felix Hollis.

The matter shall be heard on the 25th of May, at nine o’clock in the forenoon, at Lincoln’s Inn Hall, wherein it shall be determined whether you are a fit and proper person to assume said guardianship.

You are required to furnish all supporting documents and witness statements pertaining to your petition, including, but not limited to, proof of financial solvency, moral character, and capacity to provide for the well-being and education of the aforesaid minors.

Should you fail to attend or be found lacking in requisite proof, the Court shall proceed accordingly, and the matter may be resolved in favour of the present guardian, Mr. Edward Hollis.

By Order of the Court,

I remain, Sir,

Your obedient servant,

James Townsend

Clerk of the Rolls,

Court of Chancery

Sebastian folded the letter, trying to ignore the suffocating feeling descending upon him.

One week. That was all that was left him to find the means with which to provide for his siblings.

A meeting with his solicitor, Helliwell, led him to quickly discard the one option that felt within reach: a loan.

There were a few people who might have granted him one, but Helliwell had made it clear in no uncertain terms that the court would not find mere money sufficient.

They wanted evidence of both income and responsible financial management, not dependency upon others—and certainly not debts beyond the ones Sebastian already carried.

The irony, of course, was that Edward Hollis could prove none of those things. He was dependent upon the money the court had set aside for the children’s maintenance. And upon the strong drink he used that money to afford.

Sebastian found himself delaying his visit to the children after his meeting with Helliwell, and though he hated to admit, it was more than his reluctance to reveal the truth to them.

Time spent in the company of Selina had come to feel like torture.

He was Tantalus, forever tempted by the food and drink at his fingertips but never able to partake.

Adding insult to injury were the comments the children made about his impending marriage to Selina. They looked upon it with an eagerness that made his heart heavy.

The longer he waited, the more difficult it would become.

Thanks to his delays, it was well after three in the afternoon when he arrived at Number 14 Berkeley Square.

“I believe the children are in the drawing room, sir,” said the footman as he took Sebastian’s hat and gloves.

Sebastian thanked him and made his way there. Margaret was betraying her lack of proper musical education by plunking spontaneous notes on the pianoforte, while Hugo folded a piece of paper into something unrecognizable.

“Sebastian!” Hugo said with excitement. “We thought you had forgotten us.”

Sebastian’s conscience pricked. “Forgotten you? What nonsense is this?” He looked around. “Where is Felix?”

“He began feeling unwell during the night,” Margaret said. “I did my best to make him comfortable, but Mrs. Lawrence insisted I rest awhile.”

“Is she with him?”

Margaret nodded. “In his bedchamber.”

“I will relieve her,” he said, and he hurried from the room.

He took the stairs two at a time, but when he reached the door to Felix’s bedchamber, he slowed. Taking the doorknob in hand, he turned it gently so that it made no sound as he pushed the door open slightly.

He peered into the bedchamber, and the sight within sent a jolting ache through his heart.

Felix lay on the bed, his head turned to the side, his cheeks rosy and skin moist. Beside him, pressing a damp cloth to his forehead, sat Selina, her brow knit with sympathy.

Felix let out a little groan, and she shifted closer to him .

“You are terribly uncomfortable, aren’t you?” Her voice was so gentle, Sebastian barely heard it.

“My head feels like it will burst,” Felix whimpered.

She wet the cloth in the nearby basin, squeezed the excess from it, then pressed it to his head again. “I know, my dear. Can I persuade you to take some of this tea?” She set down the cloth and picked up a teacup from the bedside table.

His face crumpled. “I hate medicine. It tastes like poison.”

“Medicine is the most vile thing,” she said sympathetically. “Shall I have some first? To ensure it is not, in fact, poison?”

He nodded.

Selina took a sip from the cup. “Mm.” Her eyes shut with satisfaction. “If that is poison, it is the most delicious I have ever tasted. Cook made it herself—specially for you—and she has yet to poison anyone in this household.” She took one more sip. “It tastes of honey and good health.”

Sebastian’s heart panged as he watched her caring for Felix. She was so gentle, so kind. He ached to know that part of her.

And perhaps he might have if only they had met in different circumstances. What if he had not so desperately needed money and she had not been set against him from the start?

But circumstances were not different. They had lied to and deceived one another until there was no fixing what they had broken.

Felix debated for a moment, but the memory of the other things Cook had made must have been recent enough that he was willing to give the tea a chance, for he finally nodded.

“Here.” Selina set the tea down and began working to adjust the pillows behind him.

Sebastian stepped into the room, and Selina’s head came around.

He kept his eyes on Felix as he went to the opposite side of the bed from her.

“What is this? A soldier down? This won’t do at all.

” He scooped Felix up gently with one arm, then worked at arranging the pillows with the other while Selina assisted.

“I am terribly ill, Sebastian,” Felix said in a weak voice .

“Not for long,” Sebastian said gently.

“I meant to send word to you,” Selina said, “but his fever has only worsened in the past hour, and he did not want me to leave his side.”

Sebastian could certainly sympathize with that sentiment.

“Shall I call for the doctor?” she asked.

Sebastian met her gaze for the first time. “Is he discreet? I do not wish for word to spread of their presence here.”

“I trust him.”

He searched her face for a moment, then gave a nod, and she went over to the bell pull.

“Do not leave,” Felix begged.

She gave it a tug, then came back to the bedside, sitting upon the edge and taking his hand. “I am not going anywhere.”

Sebastian frowned, for he had come to spell her, but Felix kept hold of her hand as she put the tea to his lips. The act seemed to tire him, and he hovered on the edge of wake and sleep until the doctor arrived some thirty minutes later.

“A nervous fever,” the doctor said after evaluating his condition, “likely brought on by the excitement of travel. His pulse is rapid, but his lungs are clear. Best to keep him quiet and avoid heavy meals. I see no need for a blister or leeching unless his condition is worse tomorrow.”

He left them with instructions to send him word in the morning.

Margaret came to the bedchamber not long after, offering to take over, but Felix was adamant. He wanted Sebastian and Selina at his side, each holding a hand.

“Felix,” Margaret chided softly.

“It is fine,” Selina reassured her.

When Miss Grant entered with the same intent shortly after, she too was rebuffed by Felix. She left the room, promising to take care of Margaret and Hugo.

The arrangement that suited Felix left Sebastian and Selina directly across from one another as he both sought and fought sleep, tossing and turning. Selina managed to slip her hand out of his in order to apply cool compresses to his brow.

Sebastian tried not to admire her as she did so, but it was impossible. She was kind, competent, intelligent, and so intoxicatingly beautiful that it was a chore to take his eyes from her.

She glanced up, catching him in his stare.

“Perhaps he would consent to Pip taking over for a time,” Sebastian said quietly.

A flash of amusement entered her eyes. “Before you arrived, he asked if I would allow Pip to lie with him.”

Sebastian chuckled softly. “Lie with him? When has that monkey ever lain down quietly?” He bethought himself of something. “I do him an injustice. He did lie quietly in my arms one day. For nearly three hours.”

Selina’s brow grew quizzical. “Surely not.”

“I swear it. But those three hours were preceded by his wreaking havoc on the house for just as long. He found his way to the kitchens and ate an entire sugarloaf.”

Selina’s eyes widened. “Good heavens.”

“He was in rare form, I assure you, tearing all over the house and baring his teeth at anyone who dared keep him from whatever mischief came to him in the moment.” Sebastian shook his head, smiling at the memory.

“And then, suddenly, he grew listless. Lifeless, almost. I thought I would have to inform you I had killed your precious pet.” He fixed his gaze upon her and cocked a brow.

Her face crumpled with apology, but there was the merest hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth. “I am sorry. It so happened that I learned of your history with Miss Fernside when Phoebe and I were at the pet shop. I was so upset that I used the first thing at hand to take my revenge.”

“I suppose I should be grateful it was Pip at hand and not one of the rifles we inspected.”

“Ah, yes. The twin-barreled”—she narrowed her eyes in attempt to remember—“what was it?”

“Musketoon,” Sebastian offered.

Her lip twitched, and their smiling gazes held for a few seconds as they remembered that day. In those seconds, the distance between them did not feel quite so vast.

“I have grown fond of Pip,” Sebastian finally said. “Once you resign yourself to the chaos, it is not so very bad.”

“A ringing endorsement,” Selina replied with eyes dancing.

He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully as he regarded her. “It seems a brave choice to purchase Pip on the off-chance I would agree to take him in. What would you have done if I had not? Or when I inevitably insisted it was time to return him to your care?”

Her mouth twisted to the side guiltily.

“What?” he asked, intrigued by her reaction.

“I only rented him, and believe me, the owner was more than happy for a respite.”

Sebastian let his head fall back as he laughed softly. “I can imagine he was! You mean to say you could have returned him to the shop at any point these past weeks?”

“He has been in such demand between my nieces and nephews and your siblings,” she said defensively.

He shook his head at her, unable to suppress a smile. “Selina Lawrence, you are a veritable tormentor.”

“Whereas you are a beacon of goodwill.”

“Of course I am,” Sebastian replied.

“Then, pray, how do you explain Montague?”

His lip quirked. “Ah, yes. Montague, your other beloved pet!”

“George’s,” she corrected.

“I imagine George would be astounded by the number of pets he has acquired since his death.”

A little suffocated snort of laughter escaped Selina, who swiftly covered her mouth.

“Shh,” Sebastian teased, though Felix did not stir. He was snoring lightly.

Their eyes met across the bed, full of silenced laughter.

This. This was what Sebastian wanted—not wealth or a title or the best connections Society had to offer. He wanted this connection, these moments. He wanted to care for his siblings by Selina’s side, finding joyful moments together even amidst illness and adversity.

But what did she want?

She had told him she had no intention of marrying again—and certainly not of marrying a fortune hunter.

Sebastian was a fortune hunter, however unwillingly so.

Selina’s gaze dropped away, her smile slowly receding.

“Have you told anyone?” he asked.

Her eyes flitted briefly to his, then away again. “Not yet. But I shall.”

He nodded, ignoring the tightness in his throat.

“You have not told the children yet,” she said. It was not a question but a statement.

“I intended to today, but…”

Felix began to toss and turn, and the opportunity for conversation passed.

His fever grew worse, and he seemed not to understand where he was, though when Selina left the room for a few minutes, he began to cry. He shifted and winced and tossed and turned, unable to find comfort.

And then, suddenly, he was shaking and cold.

Sebastian and Selina worked to appease his conflicting demands, sitting on either side of him on the bed.

Sebastian pulled Felix’s clammy legs onto his lap, chafing them beneath the blanket.

Face crumpled with discomfort, Felix sat up, then wobbled.

Selina wrapped her arm around his back to support him. “There, there, my dear.” She began to hum quietly, pulling up the blanket over his arms, and Felix’s thrashing settled. He leaned in to her, exhausted from his struggle, and soon, his full weight rested upon her.

Sebastian helped her gently shift so that her back rested against the headboard and her arm against him. All the while, she continued humming. Beyond Felix’s head turning from one side to the other, his eyes remained closed, a little furrow of pain on his brow.

“May I spell you?” Sebastian whispered after her humming had ended.

“We had better not make the attempt,” she replied. “I am comfortable enough, and the sleep will do him good.”

Sebastian frowned. “This was not what I had in mind when I agreed for the children to stay with you.”

She smiled ruefully. “When it comes to children, having something in mind is the surest way to upset plans, in my experience.”

That was certainly true. “At least let me put this pillow behind your head.” As things stood, her neck was against the top of the headboard.

She agreed, and with clenched teeth and muscles on alert for any sign of rousing from Felix, Sebastian slipped the decorative pillow into place.

She rested her head against it, shutting her eyes and releasing a sigh.

It was a sigh Sebastian felt his whole body through. More than he had wished for anything in his entire life, he wished Selina Lawrence were his.