Lord Sebastian's Secret (The Duke's Sons #3)(22)

Sebastian thought he was right. Of course, Mr. Mitra was a visible, talkative demonstration of these eccentric views. A twinkle in the other man’s dark eyes seemed to indicate that he was well aware of this.

“On this occasion, you are the attraction, I believe.”

“Me?”

“A public introduction of the new member of their family?”

“Ah.” He’d want to make a good impression, Sebastian thought. But he’d been to a hundred of his mother’s country dinners. He’d do all right.

The sound of yapping reached their ears, and grew rapidly louder. Mitra sighed. “Alas. The hounds are loosed.”

“Not hounds,” Sebastian replied. The sound of the pugs was completely different. But perhaps as a foreigner, Mitra didn’t know that. Sebastian looked around. They had come out of the shrubbery near the ancient stone tower that anchored one end of Stane Castle, and just a few steps away, a weathered wooden door pierced its walls. Sebastian went over and tried the handle. It groaned as it moved. The hinges were equally noisy, but the old door opened. Sebastian peered inside. A narrow stone staircase twisted upward. “In here,” he commanded. “The two of us could hold off a regiment on these stairs.” He gestured for Mr. Mitra to go first. The other man hesitated, but louder yapping sent him upward, with Sebastian on his heels.

They climbed past another wooden door on the first level, and then an arched opening further up. Mitra made as if to stop, leaning on the wall and puffing, but Sebastian urged him on until they came out on a dusty, dim landing. A narrower flight of stairs clung to the opposite wall, seemingly going nowhere. “A dead end,” said the Indian gentleman.

Sebastian had spotted a trapdoor above their heads, however. He climbed the precipitous stair and pushed at the panel. It fell back, letting in a dazzling square of light. Blinking at the sudden illumination, Sebastian emerged onto a platform at the top of the tower, encircled by a chest-high parapet. Sweeping views of the countryside spread out in every direction, except where a small chamber with slitted windows sat at the southeast corner. “Come up,” he urged. “You must see this.”

With some grumbling and scraping, Mitra joined him. “Ah,” he said. “Here is a panorama.”

Sebastian kicked at one of the dry leaves scattered over the flagstones. “Here’s a hiding place,” he replied. “It doesn’t look like anyone comes up here. And no dog can get through that trapdoor if you close it.” He grinned at the other man. “I’ll help you bring up a chair, if you like. You can sit here with your books.” His fellow guest was always reading some hefty tome or other. “Outdoors, but safe from attack,” he pointed out. “Under roof if it’s wet.” He indicated the small chamber at the edge.

All in all, it was a neat little refuge. It wouldn’t do in winter, of course, but this was August and likely to be tolerably warm. Sebastian had loved finding or creating this sort of secret nook when he was a boy. The landscape at Langford was dotted with refuges he and his brothers had carved out. He still rather liked it, he found.

“You are a most unusual young man, are you not?” said Mr. Mitra.

“Me?” Sebastian shrugged. “I’m a plain fellow, a soldier.”

“To think of me in this way? And to offer your aid? I must disagree.”

For several uncomfortable moments, Sebastian felt himself closely scrutinized. He’d always disliked such examinations, feeling that his many flaws would jump out to be recognized.

“No, indeed,” said Mitra finally. “Not just a plain fellow. It is clear that you are much more than you realize at present.”

What was clear about that? Sebastian turned away from his companion’s piercing gaze. Feeling it still on his back, he walked over to the parapet and looked out over the garden. There was Georgina’s mother, with a mob of dogs, striding through the shrubbery as if on a mission. Emma and Hilda came into sight around a corner of the castle, searching one path and then another. Here was a chance to find Georgina alone inside, Sebastian realized, if he could evade their pincer movement. He plotted a course through the greenery, then took the way down two steps at a time.

“Much more than you realize,” murmured Mr. Mitra as he disappeared.

Sebastian hurried to the base of the tower and then carefully along his chosen route. It was easy to plot the position of the pugs; they were clearly audible. The younger Stanes were more elusive, and he had one close call, but he managed to make it inside without being detected. Safe behind walls, he headed for the castle’s schoolroom. He’d observed that his intended often spent a few hours there in the mornings, with her sisters and Miss Byngham. It was a measure of her cleverness. She’d told him she never tired of learning.

He opened the door quietly and saw that his earlier reconnaissance had paid off. Georgina sat in a window seat at the back of the room, gazing pensively down at the garden. A shaft of sunlight penetrating the clouds illuminated her face and gilded her golden hair. In a simple gown of white muslin sprigged with tiny violet flowers, she looked delicately beautiful. She held a book, but she wasn’t reading.

“Hullo,” said Sebastian.

Georgina jumped. The book hit the floor with a thump.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

She looked up at him, and up. His tall, masculine presence felt at once alien and…thrilling in this room where she’d spent much of her girlhood. He’d entered it as he’d entered her life, an unexpectedly exciting alteration. She’d been thinking of those broad shoulders and strong arms, of how it had felt when he lifted her off his knees. To be shifted as if she weighed less than a feather had been beguiling. But she’d been so bitterly disappointed that his hands had stopped their tantalizing progress into places that were responding now at the mere memory. Georgina flushed and stood up.