Once a Wallflower, At Last His Love (Scandalous Seasons #6)(49)

And he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted another. “Hermione, I am—”

She stuck her finger in his chest. “If you say you’re a duke and are permitted even these liberties, then I’ll clout you.”

A chuckle rumbled up from deep within his chest.

She sighed. “It is as I feared. You are one of those arrogant—”

“Though not stodgy.”

She nodded. “No, not stodgy, types.”

Sebastian claimed her lips.

“Hermione!” The girl Addie’s voice echoed from somewhere within the shop.

She jumped away, her skin waxen, and she glanced around frantically. “I shouldn’t…I—”

“Hermione,” he said quietly.

“I must go, Your Grace.” She squared her shoulders. “And you would do well to avoid me.” With that cryptic warning, she slipped out of his arms and all but flew down the row like a fey creature taking flight.

Except her warning only had the opposite effect as he was filled with an insatiable hungering for more of the spirited minx.





C





hapter 14

Sebastian paced back and forth in the empty office. The steady tick-tock of the long case clock grated on his nerves. He frowned. The longer he paced the familiar sapphire blue Aubusson carpet, the more the foolishness in this particular visit settled in.

Bloody hell. Where in hell was he? Sebastian had arrived nearly…He tugged his watch fob from his pocket and consulted the time. And frowned. Had it really only been ten minutes since he’d arrived? Footsteps sounded in the hall and he spun around, just as a once detested, now tolerated figure stepped through the door.

His brother-in-law, the Marquess of Drake narrowed his gaze and strode over to his wide, mahogany desk. He perched a hip on the edge and folded his arms almost expectantly.

Sebastian inclined his head and studied the man who’d been betrothed to Emmaline since she’d been a girl and Drake a mere boy. He’d spent years hating this very person for his ill treatment of Emmaline. The irony of this moment, coming here for help from that same man, was not lost on him.

Drake broke the silence. “I don’t presume you’ve called—” He glanced at the long case clock across the room. “—at this ungodly hour, to simply glower in that menacing fashion?”

“Not this time,” Sebastian mumbled. He quite detested the spell Hermione Rogers had cast upon him. She’d upended logic, reason, and order and made him—his lips pulled in a grimace—God forbid, do foolish things like read Gothic novels. He gestured to the sideboard, suddenly requiring liquid fortitude. “May I?”

“You do realize it’s but seven o’clock in the morning?”

Sebastian opted to take that question as permission and strode over to the sideboard. “Of course I know what time it is.” He frowned at the collection of port, sherry, and whiskey, in search of a good bottle of fine, French brandy. “Where the hell is your brandy, man?”

“I don’t drink the stuff.” Wry amusement underscored Drake’s response.

“Can’t trust a man who doesn’t drink brandy,” he muttered.

“And I say you can’t trust a man who does.” His brother-in-law’s lips tipped up in a crooked grin. “Very well, I see it’s your desire for good company that’s brought you by for a visit.”

Sebastian settled for the nearest bottle. “Hardly.” Rather, he required assistance from someone who could be the sole of discretion. Even with Sebastian’s previous dislike for the man, Lord Drake’s bravery in the Peninsular Wars had proven him to be honorable. He picked up a glass and splashed several fingerfuls of whiskey to the rim. He took a sip and grimaced. “Foul stuff.”

Drake sat back in his seat and studied him with a probing stare. Sebastian returned his attention to the contents of his glass. He swirled the amber depths. “Might I be correct in saying you didn’t care to wed my sister?”

The other man’s body jerked erect. His eyes became near-impenetrable slits. “Why don’t you say what it is you’ve come to say?” he ordered through tight lips.

He waved his glass. “I’m merely stating a matter of fact.”

Drake jerked his chin up. “A bit late to change the terms of the contract,” he said, his tone droll. “You had your opportunity to find her another. And you failed.”

Sebastian set his glass down and liquid droplets splashed over the side. He tugged at his cravat. He really was making quite a bumble of this whole meeting. Thick tension blanketed the room as shame filled him over the role he’d played in trying to thwart Drake’s courtship of Emmaline. He’d quite happily released Emmaline from the age-old betrothal contract and tried to orchestrate a union between Em and his closest friend, Waxham. “I did it because she was my sister,” he said, a touch of defensiveness in his words.

He’d have protected Emmaline from hurt at any cost. And she’d known no small amount of pain over Lord Drake’s indifference through the years. He slashed the air with a hand. “Regardless, I see my sister is happy.” Which was really all that mattered. “And that is not why I’ve come to call.”

“Then why have you—?”