The Seduction of Sebastian St. James (House of Renwick #2)(5)

A maid entered, carrying a note. Nicholas offered an apology before stepping out of the room, leaving Sebastian alone with his thoughts.

Sighing, he leaned his head back against the chair, all the while swirling the amber liquid around his glass. It wasn’t that he considered himself an unhappy man. Indeed he felt content and overall satisfied with his life. Women often commented on his optimistic demeanor, thinking it a ruse to get them into bed. But to Sebastian it had always seemed that most men wasted valuable time being upset or angry when they had it within their capabilities to fix their situation in the first place. Was life not meant to be lived to the fullest?

Most of his existence had been less than charmed. In fact, if anyone had anything to be bitter about, it was Sebastian. He had inherited his title at the early age of one and seven.

Both of his parents had died in a carriage accident, leaving his grandmother to finish raising him on her own. If one could call bossing the staff around on how to treat the Duke of Tempest raising.

He did love his grandmother. It wasn’t her fault his parents had died, nor was it his, as she had reminded him that fateful day.

“Sebastian, my boy, you could not help what happened,” she had said, petting his yellow curls. “It is in the Lord’s hands, dear boy. Bad things happen, and we must trust in Him.”

He still had trouble processing his grandmother’s wise words. He knew them to be astute, but that didn’t make them easy for him to put into practice. In fact, she had a horrible time dealing with him. It was no wonder she was constantly bossing everyone around trying to gain some semblance of control over her defiant grandson.

But he had been mourning. Men struggle trying to understand why things happen the way they do. Adolescents who are not yet fully grown have an even more difficult time, especially when it’s their fault the people they loved the most in the world had to perish. He took another sip of brandy as a melancholy fog rested on his broad shoulders.

He hadn’t thought about his childhood in a long while. He must have drunk more brandy than he originally imagined. Then again, Nicholas was good at refilling his glass when he was brooding. Something Sebastian was hardly ever guilty of.

Maybe his grandmother could shed some light on his marriage situation. After all she was the one breathing hot coals down his neck about reformation and forgiveness. It wasn’t even as if he had lived such a terribly rakish life. In fact he was known as the angel duke by quite a few of the gentry. It wasn’t necessarily his heavenly and joyous demeanor, though it did seem to help. No, in truth he had been given the title after rescuing a small girl from near death. It also didn’t hurt that people had a hard time attaching any sort of scandal to his name. Oh he had done his fair share of taking mistresses and sowing wild outs across the continent, he was just remarkably talented at keeping people quiet, giving more credence to his reputation that no woman could seduce him.

He’d like to see them try.

The one woman ever close to succeeding only did so because she was foolish enough to make it her goal for an entire year, and even then he knew what she was about, finally giving in just so the poor thing wouldn’t run headfirst into the nearest street.

Unfortunately it was becoming clearer as he aged that women were easy to read and extremely similar in their dispositions. Having a wife would be, in his mind, akin to having a nice pet. A creature you dress up when it was time for fancy dinners and reproduce with to gain an heir. Anything outside of that was relatively pointless. He had his gentleman friends for lively conversation and his grandmother for nagging.

Yes, although part of him was jealous of Nicholas’s good luck, another part of him was terrified he would find someone who had the ability to take such a strong hold on his heart that he would be in constant terror of losing her. Such a woman did not exist, and even if she did, she was probably boring and ugly, leaving him to feel again quite good about his decision to let Nicholas help him pick out a bride.

Although Nicholas had been joking, it was quite like picking out a horse. He needed to leave his heart out of it and use his head. What he required was a young happy woman who would bear his children and be a good duchess.

What he should do was write a list. Yes, a list explaining the characteristics he required of his future bride. Surely it would help Nicholas out.

Getting up, he walked around to the large desk and sat in the chair. He heard a tiny giggle. Pausing, he looked around the room and shrugged. Must be his imagination.

And then something grasped his leg. A loud curse escaped his mouth, echoing through the room.

“My father says that’s a dirty word. Is it a dirty word, your grace?” interrupted a smaller version of his old friend, hiding beneath the desk with mud on his face and some sort of jelly on his fingers.

Perfect, he only hoped he wasn’t acting as the child’s napkin.

“Does your dad use that word?” Sebastian fired back with a question of his own.

The little boy giggled then crooked his finger for Sebastian to lean closer. Like an idiot, he fell for the trick just as the little boy’s hands firmly grasped the crisp folds of his cravat. “My daddy says not to tell my mama. Sometimes he says it when he is angry. Like the time I brought a frog to church. That was fun!”

You know what else is fun? Washing one's hands.

“There you are!” Nicholas said from the doorway.

Samuel sunk behind the desk again. Sebastian closed his eyes, hoping the jelly stains on his perfectly white cravat would somehow disappear as well.