Forever Betrothed, Never the Bride (Scandalous Seasons #1)(56)

Drake had to restrain himself from hurting his friend. “What do you know of it?” He seethed. “Who are you to judge and condemn? You carry on as you please.” Drake reached for a glass and the decanter of whiskey and sloshed the brew into his glass.

Sinclair held his glass up in mock salute. “Yes, but I am not betrothed,”

Drake opened his mouth to speak and then promptly shut it. He stared blankly at the gold damask curtains behind Sin’s shoulder

Except, neither was he. With just a few words, the betrothal contract, which had bound them since childhood, had been snipped like a stray thread on a piece of fabric.

“It still was not your place to assist her. As my friend, you should have come to me the minute she proposed her scheme.” He finished his drink and set the glass down hard on the table.

Drake wanted to be well and truly drunk by the time he left this room.

Sin scratched his forehead. “Proposed…? She did not tell you.” A knowing light flickered to life in Sin’s eyes. “You believe Lady Emmaline approached me? You believe she enlisted my support? She did not tell you it was I who approached her?”





Chapter 25

My Dearest Drake, I have learned you are in London. I know it is not ladylike to admit this but… I am excited to see you.

Ever Yours, Emmaline

Emmaline sat on the wrought iron bench in the gardens. She tugged the wide brim of her bonnet lower to conceal the extent of her grief from her maid, and hugged the small spade close to her stomach. She welcomed the sharp sting of the metal biting into her flesh, because it momentarily dulled the pain of her broken heart.

She had ended it.

Even thinking it now, it seemed surreal.

Since she’d been a mere girl her life had been seamlessly entwined with Lord Drake’s. She’d come to know him as her future. After years of waiting for him to finally come up to scratch, she should welcome the liberty of finally being free. Now she would have a real Season, an opportunity to pursue what she yearned for most in life—love.

Yet, why did she feel as though she’d had everything she ever dreamed of and had lost it?

She turned to her maid. “Will you fetch the duke?”

Grace rose and rushed to do Emmaline’s bidding. “Yes, my lady.”

Emmaline stood up from the bench and paced the gardens, failing to see the flowers. Then she made the mistake of stealing a glance at the cerastium covering the ground and it was too much.

She sank to her knees and lovingly stroked the silk of the tiny, fragile bloom. She dropped her face in her hands and shook her head back and forth, trying to tamp out the feel of Drake’s touch, the memories of how he’d made her body unfurl like petals opening up in the early spring.

A shadow fell over her and blotted out the nauseating sweetness of the sun’s rays.

Sebastian’s concerned voice interrupted her musings. “Em? Are you all right?”

She didn’t stand up. Didn’t look at him. “It is done. I have freed him.”

How did she manage to keep her words so steady?

Sebastian fell silent.

Emmaline didn’t know what she’d expected. Perhaps a bit of gloating on his part. After all, how many times over the past months had he insisted she break it off with Drake?

Sebastian sat onto the wrought iron bench. He rested a hand on her shoulder.

She leaned into him much as she had when she’d been a small girl who’d tumbled down the stairs. He’d scooped her up and held her until he’d driven away all the hurt. Oh, why couldn’t she be a small child again, back when life was so very simple?

“You know I just want to see you happy?”

Emmaline gave a jerky nod.

“So why do I feel you are still not?”

She rested her chin on Sebastian’s knee, and looked up at him. “I love him. Of all the mad, foolish, awful things to do…I went and fell in love with him.”

Her brother said nothing for a long moment. Finally, he removed her broad straw bonnet, and gave it his utmost concentration. “Do you know Em, I still remember the day you were born. You were red-faced, screaming. Tears were dripping down your chubby cheeks. The nurse was desperately trying to soothe you. I leaned over the crib, and just like that, miracle of miracles, you ceased crying. I hadn’t given much thought to what being an older brother meant. I realized in that moment I wanted to protect you from any and every hurt.”

“Some things are beyond even your control, Sebastian.”

“Unfortunately, I know that.” He redirected his attention to the hat in his hands. “You know I think this bonnet is ridiculous.”

She wrinkled her nose and swatted him on the arm. “I love that article.”

He spared a disparaging look for the item in question. “I would never, ever pick this hat for you. I have teased you time and time again. But you insist on wearing this one. There’s no explaining it, is there, Em?” He directed his attention to Emmaline. “Simply a matter of…taste, I guess you could say.”

Emmaline swallowed. “It is that,” she whispered.

Sebastian tugged at the fraying blue satin ribbons. “See how it’s fraying here? Even the straw is starting to tear.” He dragged a finger along the areas in question.

“Seb—”

He continued. “Someday you are going to need a new hat. You will find the hat, and it will be perfect for you.”