Lord Sebastian's Secret (The Duke's Sons #3)(51)

This penetrated Randolph’s preoccupation. “What?”

Under his brother’s increasingly astonished gaze, Sebastian related the scene that had just taken place.

“Your engagement is ended over imaginary tattoos and checkered trousers?” Randolph asked when his brother had finished. “Are you certain you understood him correctly?”

“He left no room for doubt,” Sebastian assured him.

“Then perhaps he mistook your meaning,” said Randolph. He hesitated. “Now and then you…garble a story…just a bit.”

Sebastian’s jaw tightened. But he had to acknowledge the truth of it. Words were not his friends. “Not this time,” he answered.

“Well then, Stane must be mad. Perhaps you should reconsider an alliance with his family.”

“No.” All of Sebastian’s resolution rang in that single syllable.

Randolph eyed him. “No. Well, I’m happy to talk to him. Though I must say he seems an extremely intransigent fellow.”

“No,” Sebastian said again.

Randolph surveyed him. He nodded. “What do you mean to do?”

“Stay on,” Sebastian vowed. “I’ll find lodgings nearby, put up a tent if necessary, and remain until this idiotic mess is straightened out. And I am married, as planned.” He caught his reflection in the mirror above the mantel. His expression was fierce, as well it might be. He wasn’t going to lose, not for anyone or anything.

“Are you sure…?”

“Everyone’s blowing this out of all proportion.” Now that he was cooler, Sebastian felt this had to be right. “It was more like a party game than anything else. Stane will see that he’s being ridiculous.”

Randolph nodded as if this made sense. “I shall stay with you, of course,” he said.

Of course he would. That was the thing about his brothers, Sebastian thought. When it came to the point of nonplus, they never let him down.





Eleven


Distraught she might be, but Georgina was no fool. As soon as her father released her, she went to find her mother. It was a measure of the unusual nature of the evening that Mama was not in the drawing room but sitting in her workroom surrounded by her dogs. Of her sisters, there was no sign. “Oh, Mama!” Georgina cried.

The marchioness was self-absorbed, but not oblivious to an offspring’s real distress. “What is it, my dear?”

The story came pouring out on a rising tide of emotion. The pugs responded to the latter with a swelling chorus of yapping. “And so Papa has declared my engagement at an end,” Georgina finished.

“What?” Her mother sat bolt upright and stared at her.

“For no reason at all,” she added. The unfairness of it overwhelmed her once again. “Mr. Mitra says that these…experiments—whatever you call them—have nothing to do with who one is today. Not in the least.”

“Experiments,” repeated her mother. She rose from her chair. “I’ll show Alfred experiments.”

She hadn’t even noticed that she’d dislodged Drustan from the folds of her skirt, tipping him head over heels. Georgina saw a ray of hope. She trailed behind her mother like one of the dogs, rushing back the way she’d come.

Papa still sat in the circle of armchairs around the candelabrum. Of the rest of the group, only Joanna remained. She stood before him, making sweeping gestures with her arms as she slowly turned.

Georgina marched in behind her mother, who practically skidded to a stop, putting her hands on her hips. “Oh, lud,” she said. “Alfred, what do you think you’re doing?”

Joanna didn’t seem to notice their arrival. She continued her eccentric movements.

Papa looked glad of the interruption. He rose and edged around the governess to join them. “Charlotte, our meditation had the most amazing results. You should have joined us.”

“It appears so indeed. I could have prevented you from acting the fool with Georgina’s future husband.”

His face went stubborn. “That is at an end. My daughter will not marry a…”

“My daughter as well,” interrupted Mama. “She told me the whole story. I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous.”

“Gresham was condemned by his own words! He bore all the marks of a Welsh barbarian.”

“Alfred, can you not hear how silly that sounds?”

He seemed to swell with anger. “Silly? This from a woman addicted to tales of princes turned into swans and queens eating their children.”

“That was a lie perpetrated by Rhiannon’s enemies! As you know very well. And yes, I prefer a poetic, magical story to your roaring tales of hairy bullies blustering and chopping at each other. And this is their heaven!”

“Offa was a Christian king!” Georgina’s father retorted. “And a proper man. Not some whining oath breaker like Drustan, Tristan, whatever his name was.”

“He was fated to…”

“Mama,” said Georgina.

Her mother turned to look at her. It took a moment. “Yes,” she said then. “This is beside the point.” She faced Georgina’s father again. “Lord Sebastian, my daughter’s affianced husband, is a welcome guest in my home. He will stay until the wedding, which will take place as planned.”