A Passion for Pleasure(103)

“We have discussed this already, Mrs. Hall,” Rushton replied curtly. “And the fact remains that Lord Fairfax is Andrew’s legal guardian. If you do not yield custody of him at once, your father will make good on his threat to have both you and Sebastian arrested.”

Clara knew that. For herself, she didn’t care. Even in prison, she would somehow find a way to keep fighting for her son if she had to write letters to every justice in the country and the queen herself. But she could not bear the thought of Sebastian being censured for an act that had been entirely her doing. She could not allow him to take any blame when he had only sought to help her.

Shame split her heart in two. Her breath jolted from her throat when Fairfax strode toward her. She stiffened her spine and clutched Andrew to her side.

“Andrew!” Fairfax’s mouth compressed with irritation. “Get in the carriage at once.”

Andrew shook his head, half-concealed behind the folds of Clara’s skirt.

Fairfax pierced Clara with a glare. “What has he said to you?”

“He hasn’t said anything!” The admission ripped at her chest. “What have you done to him to make him stop speaking?”

“He has been despondent over his father’s death,” Fairfax replied. “Andrew, get in the carriage. You know the consequences should you disobey.”

“He is not going anywhere with you,” Sebastian said.

“He is, or you will be imprisoned before the day is out,” Fairfax replied curtly. “Is that what you want, Mr. Hall? After the scandalous events of recent years, do you want your family to contend with your arrest for abduction? Imagine what such gossip will do to your father’s reputation. Not to mention his position with the Home Office.”

A heavy stillness settled between them, as if even the air itself stopped moving. The edges of Clara’s vision darkened. Fairfax clenched a hand around Andrew’s arm and pulled him away.

As Clara reached to grab him back, Andrew yanked himself from Fairfax’s grip and ran to Sebastian. He flung himself at Sebastian as if the man were a lifeboat in a storm-lashed sea.

Sebastian closed his arms around the boy. An expression crossed his face that Clara had never seen before—a wrenching combination of grief and hopelessness. Tears burned her eyes.

“If you let the boy go, Mr. Hall,” Fairfax said, “I am willing to forget any of this ever happened.”

Clara’s gaze skidded to Rushton, her breath stopping as she silently prayed he would relent and intervene on their behalf.

Rushton watched his son holding on to Andrew. The earl’s shoulders were stiff and his expression unreadable. Only a faint flicker in his eyes betrayed any emotion whatsoever.

“Please,” Clara whispered.

Rushton looked away. He opened the carriage door. Fairfax took hold of Andrew and wrenched the sobbing boy from Sebastian’s arms.

“No.” Sebastian reached with his right hand to grasp Andrew’s shoulder, but his hand froze into a clawlike position, his arm stiffening up to his shoulder. His curse broke like glass shattering through the air.

Clara ran to her son, her heart seizing at the sound of his sobs. Fairfax pushed out a hand to stop her. The impact slammed into her chest and set her stumbling back a few steps. Sebastian lunged forward and tried to grab Andrew again.

The groom sprang at Sebastian, catching him offguard and bringing him to the ground. The two men fought, Sebastian’s left fist flying upward to catch the other man’s jaw. The groom jerked backward and raised an arm. Sebastian flung him off and vaulted to his feet just as Fairfax wrestled Andrew into the carriage. Rushton followed them, his back as rigid as a plank of wood.

The carriage door slammed. A cry lodged in Clara’s throat. Sebastian started toward the carriage, but the groom had already clambered back to the bench. With a snap of the whip, the horses plunged forward.

Sebastian ran after them, his boots slamming against the dirt-covered drive. The carriage picked up speed, moving farther and farther away. After following it almost to the road, Sebastian slowed to a halt and braced his hands on his knees, his body heaving with exertion. The carriage rounded a corner and disappeared from sight.



Sebastian planned an immediate return to London. He sent word in advance for his house staff to expect them, then arranged for a carriage and train tickets. He went in search of Clara to tell her they would depart that very evening.

He found her standing at the window in her bedchamber, her profile etched against the cold glass. Regret wrenched at him, but he smothered it beneath an inflexible resolve.