Lord Sebastian's Secret (The Duke's Sons #3)(73)

Joanna looked momentarily disconcerted. Then she shrugged and shook it off, murmuring, “The student can surpass the master.”

“What sort of ritual would it be?” Georgina’s father asked.

“Alfred!” said her mother.

Sebastian watched the marquess wave his wife’s indignation aside. His host was very taken with the idea of an ancestral ritual, he saw, and he wasn’t going to be deprived of the treat. It seemed a dashed silly idea to Sebastian, and he strongly resented the dire predictions about his marriage. But it didn’t look as if the thing could be avoided. Ah, well. He’d stood on parade in the baking sun wearing thirty pounds of gear. He could face his future father-in-law and let him make a few passes with a magic wand or whatever the governess had in mind. Though it hardly seemed right to call her a governess now. And indeed, judging from the glare Georgina’s mother was sending Miss Byngham’s way, she wouldn’t be one much longer. Not at Stane Castle at any rate.

“It is not complex,” said Miss Byngham. “And yet every detail must be exactly right. All the family must attend, garbed in red.”

“Garbed,” Georgina’s mother snorted.

“I shall officiate, of course,” Miss Byngham continued, ignoring her employer with what Sebastian thought was dangerous insouciance. “We must have candles for fire, a bowl of water, and earth from Offa’s Dyke.”

The marquess smiled at that, obviously pleased at the inclusion of the latter.

“You will read a solemn welcome, my lord, with affirmations from your family.”

“I think not,” muttered Georgina’s mother.

“And then Lord Sebastian will read his response. I have been gifted with the precise wording, you understand. It must be absolutely correct. You are well aware of the power of incantation.”

She and the marquess exchanged a complacent glance as Sebastian’s world fell about his ears. He’d heard the phrase my heart sank before, but he’d never really known what it meant.

“I could say a blessing if you like,” offered Randolph.

It had been years since Sebastian had really wanted to punch one of his brothers. Until now.

“I don’t think this is really your province, Lord Randolph,” Miss Byngham answered.

Hilda giggled again. Georgina glared at her.

“Your participation isn’t necessary,” added the governess airily. “You are not a Stane, nor to be joined to them.”

Randolph frowned at her.

Georgina’s father rubbed his hands together, clearly entranced with this plan. “You know, I think the most difficult requirement will be the red clothing. We’ll have a look in the attics. We’ve trunks full of old clothes up there.”

“Alfred, you cannot mean to go through with this!” said his wife.

“Why not? It will be amusing, something to do while we kick up our heels waiting for the wedding.” He noticed Miss Byngham’s frown. “And important, of course. Say, perhaps we should wait until the Greshams arrive. The more family the merrier, eh?”

“No!” Georgina shouted.

Shouted was the only word for it, Sebastian thought. Her refusal echoed off the dining room walls.

The volume didn’t faze her father. “Well, well, they’re not needed, eh, Joanna? Though they’d be a welcome addition, I’d think.”

The entire group seemed to hold its breath, waiting for her judgment. She was reveling in her new, self-manufactured importance, Sebastian thought.

“No,” she said finally, with a touch of regret. “As I said, it is the Stanes welcoming a new member.”

A number of her listeners relaxed.

“Though it goes the other way as well, doesn’t it?” she added, galvanizing them again. “If Lord Sebastian’s parents are interested, I daresay I could organize…”

“No!” exclaimed Georgina, almost as loudly as before.

“We’ll keep it amongst ourselves,” said the marquess under the combined glares of his wife and two elder daughters. “Get it done before they come. What about tomorrow, eh? I daresay we can cobble together some suitable garments by then.”

“Alfred,” said the marchioness.

“Come, come, my dear, you look so very fetching in red.” He gave his wife a tender glance.

To Sebastian’s surprise and sharp disappointment, she flushed and smiled. “Oh, very well, but I’m far too busy to be rooting about in the attics.”

“And you shan’t be bothered. Joanna and I will find something.”

“I’ll help, Papa,” said Hilda. “I know just the trunks to look in.”

“Splendid. We’ll organize some lanterns and go up after dinner.”

Sebastian stood. The meal had become like a doomed rearguard action, where your unit was forced into a more and more untenable position, until there was no way out but slashing sabers. “No,” he said, his voice choked. “Can’t do it.”

“Sebastian?” said his brother, rising as well.

Sebastian hurried from the room before anyone could question him. He heard Randolph calling his name again, but he ignored him. He had to get away, get outside, and try to think of some way out of this ridiculous snare.

Georgina sat frozen in her chair, her half-eaten dinner growing cold before her. She’d been so happy just a few minutes ago. She’d dared to think that she’d handled every difficulty, that all was well. Why had she tempted fate in such a foolish way? Was it her fault that the tranquil scene had collapsed like a riverbank undercut by spring floods?