The Day of the Duchess (Scandal & Scoundrel #3)(94)

“Do you?”

Yes. No. She ignored the question, hating the strange, imprecise answer that came with it.

“If I may?”

“I don’t suppose I could stop you.”

“No, likely not,” Sesily said, unmoved by the tart reply. “But Sophie isn’t wrong, Sera. Freedom comes in many shapes. And even Sparrows must rest.”

Sera looked out the window. “The carriage will take you home to Mother and Father when it has dropped me.”

“Do you wish to join us? Mother will be thrilled to see you.”

The topic should have been safe and easy. But, instead, it brought memory of their mother who, despite her terrible schemes, loved her daughters beyond reason.

She shook her head.

“She’s learned her lesson, you know,” Sophie said. “Hardly ever looks at me with disappointed pity. I suppose I should thank you for that.”

Sera forced a smile. “You’re welcome. I shall come and see them another day, but tonight I must return to my place.”

To herself.

To the woman she’d been when she’d arrived in London weeks ago, before Malcolm had changed everything. Before he’d tempted her with a different future than the one to which she was committed.

And so she would go to the tavern, and she would sling her drinks and she would sing her songs and she would hope for the night to drown out the day.

“I’ll join you,” Sesily said.

Sera looked to her sister. “No, you won’t.”

It was too dark to see her sister’s face, but Sera knew that nothing would keep Sesily from getting what she wanted. “Why, because you are planning to leave, after all? You don’t want a witness? Or you don’t want someone to whom you’ll have to say good-bye?”

“I’m not leaving, Sesily. Not tonight.”

“I’m not sure I believe you,” Sesily replied. “Running from Highley seems to be catching.”

Sera noticed the irritation in the words. “Running from Highley?”

“This week, it’s been a sport of sorts.”

Sera’s eyes widened in the darkness. “You mean Caleb?”

Sesily sniffed her disdain.

Good Lord. What had she missed? “Ses—has something happened?”

“No,” Sesily said. “I simply wish to see this legendary tavern.”

It was a lie, obviously. “You know Caleb owns it.”

“Oh,” Sesily said vaguely, “does that mean he will be there?”

Sera could not help her little laugh at the terrible performance. “You’re not coming with me.”

“Why not?”

“Well, largely because you are an unmarried, recognizable lady.”

Sera could hear the pout in her sister’s voice when she replied, “There are large swaths of London that would disagree with the lady portion of that sentence. I’m the last of the Dangerous Daughters, Sera. The former paramour of the most notorious actor in Drury Lane.”

“Nevertheless, I’m not letting you be ruined. Not even by Caleb.”

“This has nothing to do with Caleb.”

“You’re speaking to someone who pined for a man for years.”

Sesily cut her a look in the dim light of the passing pubs and theaters. “And so? You would have allowed him to ruin you without question?”

“In fact, that is exactly what I did.” And this afternoon, again. She left off the last bit.

“I’ve no intention of being ruined.”

“That’s excellent, as I’ve no intention of allowing it to happen.”

“You cannot simply return to London and take on the role of proper guardian.”

Sera lost her temper. “For God’s sake, Sesily. One of us will have a happy life!”

“Yes, and at this rate, it shall be you, for at least you have a man willing to give you a tumble!”

The words came flying out of Sesily’s mouth, shocking Sera into an unexpected reply. “You know, tumbles aren’t always the solution.”

Silence fell, and Sera was consumed with curiosity. She waited, knowing Sesily would not be able to leave it. She was right. Finally, her sister said, full of honesty, “I have plans.”

“Involving Caleb?”

“Yes.”

“Has he arranged some kind of assignation?” It was difficult for Sera to avoid sounding shocked.

“No. Worse.”

Good Lord. She’d murder him. “What has he done?” Sera was suddenly properly displeased with the man she’d called her friend for so long. It was one thing to meddle in her life, but another thing entirely to seduce her sister.

“Nothing.” A little sigh. “That’s the problem. He fled Highley when I asked him to do something.”

Good God. “Sesily—he’s—”

“You said you’d never played with him. You said you weren’t interested.”

“And that is all true. I was going to say that he’s old.”

Sesily smirked. “Not that old.”

“Not old in body. Old in spirit. And he’s a bastard.” One who deserved a sound punch to the nose, apparently.

“Yes, I’ve sensed that last bit.”