The Seduction of Sebastian St. James (House of Renwick #2)(32)

“Of course.” Rawlings scowled. “Wouldn’t want such an unsavory character as myself gracing your doorstep at midnight. What would people think?” Rawlings paused. “She isn’t yours…Not yet.”

“Leave,” Sebastian ordered.

Rawlings made his way to the door. Turning, his mocking grin faded and a serious expression replaced it. “It didn’t have to be like this, Seb.”

Rawlings hadn’t used Sebastian’s first name since that day. For some reason it only fanned the flame, making him more furious with Rawlings for putting him in the positions he had over the years, furious at himself for not pulling Rawlings out of his own pit of despair, and angry that Rawlings would allow himself to go down such a path of destruction. The man was anything but happy. The only thing he had to offer society was his rakish reputation and his title.

“You chose this, Phillip.”

Rawlings inclined his head and left. The room was heavy with emotion, some coming from the retreating form of his former friend, but most stemmed from Sebastian’s own heart as he again felt the need to battle old demons.

The sooner he could put this whole house party business behind him, the better. Emma was plaguing his days, and now, thanks to those glorious kisses, his nights. Rawlings seemed to have something odd up his sleeve, and Nicholas was still trying to get Sebastian to deal with his past as he had so readily dealt with his own.

In fact, on more than one occasion Nicholas had tried to get Sebastian to talk with him about his past. Men didn’t speak of such things, which Sebastian rudely reminded his friend. But Nicholas kept pressing. Granted, Sebastian had seen a remarkable change in his friend’s attitude toward life, but he himself was not yet ready to deal with things that had happened so long ago, not when more important things were bothering him.

Like the way Emma’s body felt pressed against his.

Or the way her eyes challenged him when they talked.

Or the fact that she—the only woman he wanted in his arms, in his bed—was to be picking from the flock of the ton, trying to find him the perfect wife.

He let out a bitter laugh. She did not exist.

But the perfect woman? He had a good idea of the name of the woman who fit that description rather handsomely.





Chapter Fourteen


The minute the ducal carriage pulled up to Renwick House, Emma was filled with dread. And so began the count down until the only man she had kissed would soon be engaged to another.

Aggravated, she pulled off her bonnet, feeling the need to pout just a bit. Nobody ever said life was fair, and Emma’s life had been anything but fair. It was frustrating to think the only men she could pair with were the ones who fell asleep while dancing at the ball or had no teeth to chew their own food. Her mind immediately went to the three gentlemen at the first ball she had attended. Was it rude to wish they would meet their demise sooner rather than later?

What a terrible thing to think!

“Emma? What are you doing?” Sebastian came up alongside her and pointed at the bonnet in her hand. “Are you trying to murder your poor bonnet? What did it ever do to you?”

Releasing it, she let out a nervous laugh. “Yes, well, it was too tight on my head.”

“Ah, that explains it. Your head is rather large for a woman. Say, do you have special bonnets made?”

“Ha, ha,” she mocked, and then put out her foot as he tried to walk by her. He barely missed it. Would it be so wrong for the perfect duke to fall flat on his face and get his white breeches dirty?

Sebastian swore. “Don’t tell me it’s going to be like this the entire way to Rawlings’ estate.”

“Better than being drooled on by a man twice your age,” Emma mumbled.

“Excuse me?” Sebastian helped her into the carriage. “I don’t believe I drool, nor am I twice your age.”

“Not you…the man you’ll most likely choose for me.” Emma crossed her arms and leaned her head against the back of the seat.

The carriage door closed, leaving the two of them in the tiny space. At least they were sitting opposite of one another.

“Emma, I have no idea what’s put you in such a mood, but I doubt any men over the age of sixty will be in attendance at Rawlings’ house party He is known for lively events. Men older than thirty might even have a hard time keeping up, if you know what I mean.”

The carriage jerked into motion, carrying them down the busy street. It seemed to fit that rain began pouring the moment they left London. Emma tried to have a good attitude. She honestly desired to. It was just that every mile they traveled she felt sicker over not spending more time with Sebastian. When had she become so attached?

When he kissed you.

When he danced with you.

Perhaps when he smiled?

“Stop!” she yelled.

Sebastian panicked and grabbed her by the wrists. “Emma, what in the blazes is wrong!”

Emma felt her face flush. “I, uh, hadn’t…meant to say that…out…” She gulped. “Loud.”

“Dear me, are you so nervous about a tiny house party?” Sebastian’s warm breath fanned her face. She leaned in and nodded.

He reached his hand out to push her fallen hair away from her face. “Chin up, my dear. You will be just fine, I promise.”

Closing her eyes, she nodded and imagined what it would be like to have him as hers and only hers.