Lord Sebastian's Secret (The Duke's Sons #3)(29)
“It’s more of a trickle at this season,” answered Emma before Sebastian could respond. “I’m sure Sebastian has seen many finer sights.”
“I doubt it,” said Hilda. “And he likes to get out and roam.”
She made him sound like a wild animal, Sebastian thought.
“It’s going to be too warm today for a ride,” objected Emma.
“Nonsense. And Georgina loves the waterfall.”
The girls exchanged a combative look. Clearly, Hilda was hatching some conspiracy, and Emma didn’t approve. But Sebastian didn’t care. If Georgina was to be one of the riding party, he was all for it. Although her sisters were effective chaperones, it was still a chance to spend time with her, a thing that was confoundedly hard in this busy household. “Sounds like a fine idea to me.”
“What if I refuse?” Emma said to her sister.
Sebastian didn’t understand the defiance in her tone, and Hilda ignored it. “I’ll go and tell Georgina,” she said. She turned, then stopped short. “You should come with me,” she said to Emma.
“Perhaps I want to stay here and talk to Sebastian.”
“Perhaps Mama would like to know who misplaced her silver hairbrush,” said Hilda.
Emma glared at her. For a moment they were like two cats contesting the same territory. Sebastian silently bet on Hilda to prevail, and he was proved right. After a bit, Emma slumped and walked away with her younger sister at her heels.
The marchioness proclaimed it too late in the day to begin an expedition, particularly since Georgina had promised to help her with some household chores. But the following morning Sebastian rode out with the three Stane sisters, his saddlebags laden with a rug and a picnic. Despite the sultriness of the summer day, everyone was in high spirits. Emma and Hilda seemed to have made up their quarrel, whatever it had been.
Hilda led them west, toward the Welsh hills, chattering about the features they passed, with a sprinkling of her father’s historical knowledge. The other two Stane daughters chimed in now and then. Sebastian listened with one ear as he surveyed the country. It was a folded landscape. Narrow valleys filled with trees, often with the sound of water below, were punctuated by sharp ridges. It would be easy to hide a troop of men in those ravines, Sebastian thought, and dashed difficult to root them out. It was no wonder the Welsh Marches had been a contested border for so many centuries.
At last, they stopped near the top of a gentler rise. A faint trail up the side showed that others had come this way. “You should show Sebastian the view,” Hilda said to Georgina. “You can see better from down there.” She pointed at the crest before them.
Sebastian dismounted at once, eager for any chance of privacy. He stepped over to Georgina’s horse, raising his hands to lift her down. When she met his gaze, heat washed over him, fiercer by far than the summer air.
“I’ll hold the horses,” Hilda said. “I’ve seen the waterfall a hundred times.”
“I can show you—” began Emma.
“I need you to help me,” Hilda commanded.
This was patently untrue, but to Sebastian’s delight, no one said so. As Georgina slid from the saddle into his arms, he felt wholly in charity with young Hilda. Perhaps she’d finally understood the signals he constantly projected. Georgina smiled up at him, and he nearly kissed her then and there. Reluctantly, he let her go.
Looping the long skirts of her riding habit over one arm, Georgina led him over the top of the hill and down a little way, onto a stone lip projecting over a deep gully. Some yards away, at its head, a twisting fall of water cascaded over the edge into the green depths. “It’s much larger in the spring,” said Georgina. “But it’s still pretty, I think.”
“Beautiful,” Sebastian replied, not looking at the water. With the sun glinting on her golden hair and the perfection of her form in the snug habit, she was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen.
Georgina turned to him. When she raised her face to his, he saw all he desired in her eyes. He pulled her into the kiss he’d been longing for day and night.
The world receded. Sebastian was conscious only of hands and lips and the intoxicating scent of her. The more he knew Georgina, the more he wanted her. Her eager response made his pulse pound with exultation, and he lost himself in a dizzying whirl of desire.
He didn’t notice the sound of horses’ hooves until it had nearly died away. Absence more than presence alerted him. And then even the echo was gone.
Sebastian raised his head and listened to the silence. A breeze rustled the leaves; a bird called; the waterfall rushed in the background. All the signals he’d learned as a military man told him this was empty country. Puzzled, he released Georgina and strode back over the top of the ridge. Hilda, Emma, and all of their horses were gone.
“Where are they?” asked Georgina behind him.
“Perhaps Whitefoot bolted, and they rode off after him,” said Sebastian doubtfully. “I don’t see why he would though. He prefers my company, but he’s well trained.”
Georgina gazed at the empty ridges, the vacant path. “Damn Hilda!” She didn’t care that her language made Sebastian stare. She couldn’t believe her sister would have played such a trick. And at the same time she could. Hilda had been getting more and more impatient about the future. She wanted to leave Stane now, not in a few years when she had her London season. And she wanted promises from Georgina, assurances that she would be included in her elder sister’s household. She seemed to think that Georgina could easily convince their parents to agree with this plan, if she would only try. Georgina had thought she was successfully fobbing her sister off, but it seemed she was wrong. Yet what did Hilda hope to accomplish by this piece of mischief?