A Little Bit Sinful (34 page)

He took a step forward, certain his eyes were playing tricks. He blinked several times. Had he been thinking of her so often and so hard that his brain conjured her likeness in another woman?

“Eleanor?”

At the sound of his voice, the woman turned.
Christ Almighty!
It was Eleanor, of that there could be no doubt. For a moment the two of them stared at each other blankly. Her face was pale, her eyes wide. Those beautiful eyes, intelligent and confident, now filled with surprise and something else. Fear? It wounded him to know she was afraid to meet him again.

She was wearing an amber-hued muslin gown, trimmed with brown silk ribbons. The high-waisted style emphasized her height and slender grace and when she moved, the folds of the muslin softly molded her figure. Sebastian blinked again.

Her shape was not at all as he remembered. Her breasts looked fuller, but it was her stomach that drew his attention. No longer flat, it now boasted a pronounced, protruding roundness. It took a moment before he realized what that meant.

“Bloody hell, you’re pregnant,” he said bluntly.

A panorama of emotions flickered across her features and then her hand reached down, covering her belly in a protective gesture. “I … uhm … well, yes, obviously I am increasing.” Her cheeks flushed red and an awkward silence ensued.

She inhaled slowly and deeply, then sank down to the sofa. “What are you doing here?” She lifted the calling card she held in her hand. “The card Robert gave me says the
Earl of Tinsdale.”

He felt his eyes narrow. “I recently inherited the title from a distant relation. I am on my way to “York-shire to inspect the property and the manor house, which I was told had been badly neglected. My horse threw a shoe and I was forced to stop and ask for aid.”

She looked at him in disbelief. “You came to be here purely by coincidence?” she asked.

“Apparently.” He dragged his gaze from her troubled eyes, lowering it to her rounded midsection. “Or maybe it was fate.”

Her breath hitched. For a moment she simply looked at him, as if she could not trust what she was seeing. “Damn fate,” she muttered.

Sebastian’s heart beat painfully in his chest. For months he had dreamed of seeing her again, of having a chance to seek forgiveness, to make amends. Now it was too late. She belonged to another man.

“Your husband must be very pleased about the child,” Sebastian said. “Is he here? If you don’t object, I would like the chance to meet him and offer my congratulations.”

Her mouth dropped open. “My husband?”

“Mr. Stewart, isn’t it? Your manservant referred to you as Mrs. Stewart.”

For a moment she stared sightlessly across the room, her hands unmoving in her lap. Then she tilted her head and lifted her chin a touch higher. “There is no Mr. Stewart. There never has been,” she said firmly, gazing at him with grim, sober resolve. “For obvious reasons I am claiming to be a widow.”

The room suddenly felt airless. Sebastian stared at her rounded belly, emotion thickening his throat, astonishment and disbelief rippling over him. “What are you saying, Eleanor?”

The question hovered between them, crackling the air. “I’m roughly five months along,” she finally answered. “The child will be born sometime next year, most likely in late February.”

His body went still as he did the calculation, though it was hardly necessary. She had been a virgin when she came to his bed, and given her heartache when they parted, it was most unlikely she would have started a relationship with another man. The child was undoubtedly his.

Emotions, tumultuous and uneasy, churned in Sebastian’s stomach. “Why didn’t you send word to me?”

“I didn’t think you would want to know.”

His chest squeezed and he found himself unable to dispute her claim. His prior behavior toward her justified her thoughts, even if they were untrue. Sebastian crossed to the window on the opposite side of the room and looked out over the rolling hills to the horizon.

“I will purchase a special license in London and
return in a few days. We can be wed by the end of the week.” Pronouncement delivered, he turned to see her reaction.

She rose, crossing her arms tightly beneath her breasts. “Goodness, after all this time you can still surprise me, Sebastian. I never thought you would offer marriage.” She studied him for several long minutes. “I guess the long-dormant honor inside you occasionally escapes. Well, you have done your duty and offered to accept responsibility for the child. I suppose I should thank you for it, but frankly it is the least you can do.”

He nodded, feeling duly chastised. “Where shall we marry? ‘Twould be awkward to do so here, since everyone believes you are widowed. And very recently, given your condition.”

“I never said I would marry you.” “But you must! You are carrying my child.” She turned her back to him. “Please, Sebastian, be reasonable. Our past makes marriage between us an impossibility.”

“You have every right to despise me, Eleanor, but circumstances dictate change. We must marry for the sake of the child.”

She shook her head slowly. “I have established myself as a respectable widow in this community and am slowly gaining acceptance. When the baby is born, it will not carry the sting of illegitimacy, nor will it suffer the cruelty of being a bastard. Aunt Jane is well situated financially and has been both kind and generous. The infant shall want for nothing.”

“I want my child to have my name,” Sebastian insisted stubbornly.

“I want my child to be raised in a household of love and respect,” Eleanor countered.

He dragged in an unsteady breath. “You must do what is best for this baby. Luckily you have been able to pull off your little charade for now. But sooner or later someone will come along who knows the truth and then you will suffer for it. As will the child.” Her face paled and he knew he had found her weakness. “The only solution is marriage. You know that, Eleanor.”

She raised her eyes to the ceiling. “You have every right to be bitter about what the earl did to your mother, what he did to you. My baby is part of his bloodline. How will you look upon this child and not remember how much you despise the earl? How will you ever accept this innocent being into your life, into your heart?”

Conceding the point, Sebastian calmed his voice. “I admit it won’t be easy, but that doesn’t mean we should not try.”

His child would be raised with all the advantages of wealth and privilege. Yet he could not guarantee his feelings, because he honestly didn’t know if he could see beyond the fact that the earl was the child’s grandfather. Eleanor started shaking her head and Sebastian’s stomach knotted. He should have told her what she needed to hear, but he couldn’t lie to her. Never again.

“I was raised by a man who disliked and neglected me,” she said. “I will never allow my child to suffer a similar fate.”

“While the earl is the very last person I would wish to be grandfather to my children, I can guarantee
that I will never treat my offspring the way he has treated you,” Sebastian countered hotly.

He saw the uncertainty in her eyes and it made him even more angry. If he couldn’t convince her, then all would be lost. Unless he forced her into marriage. Could he do it? He knew her weakness, knew exactly what he could use as leverage.

“I can’t marry you, Sebastian.”

Her words crushed him. Knowing he now had no other choice, he moved closer, fixing his gaze intently on her eyes. “I suspect the warm reception you have received from the community will change abruptly when they discover you are not a widow, but instead an unwed mother-to-be.”

“You wouldn’t,” she whispered, horrified.

“I wouldn’t want to,” he clarified. “That doesn’t mean I would not do it. Please, don’t force my hand, Eleanor.”

Her breath came in shallow pants. Her stricken eyes cut into Sebastian’s heart, but his options were few. Her reputation was the only bargaining chip he had and if forced, he would use it.

“You would label your child a bastard, to be shunned and ridiculed, forever burdened with shame?” she asked.

“More than anything I want to protect this baby. That’s why we must marry,” he replied, hoping his sincerity would mollify her enough to be reasonable.

“And you hope to achieve my compliance by threatening me?” She raised her brow. “A novel approach.”

He smiled then. Her ire must be waning if her
sarcastic wit was emerging. He wondered if a kiss would change her mind and seal the arrangement?

Eleanor watched Sebastian’s lips tighten and realized precisely where his thoughts were heading. He was going to kiss her, was he? Well, let him try.

She narrowed her eyes as tightly as she was able, but the dratted man only deepened his smile, his masculine presence overwhelming the room, dominating every corner of the feminine retreat she and Aunt Jane had created.

This was not happening! It had taken them weeks to locate this cottage and almost two months to establish themselves among the community as well-bred gentlewomen. And now Sebastian had threatened to expose her as an unwed expectant mother if she did not agree to marry him.

She tried to draw in a breath, but her lungs constricted. It exasperated her to be at his mercy, but her days of being a victim were over. If she decided to marry him it would be because she believed it to be best, not because he coerced her.

And she was considering it, even though she had just told him no. She assumed that his proposal was partially motivated by a sense of guilt, but that didn’t overly concern her. She might not like it, but his argument had merit. There were practical reasons for accepting this offer that could not be dismissed out of hand.

Added to the practical were the emotional. After recovering from the initial shock of seeing Sebastian enter her parlor, Eleanor had felt a surprising rush of euphoria, followed by an overwhelming longing.

The deep, bruising ache of hurt and the blazing anger of betrayal she felt toward him were gone, no doubt mellowed by the passing of time and faded because she carried his child. She was wary and guarded, of course, but that was to be expected. Yet as she gazed into his eyes, the lure of what might be possible if she were willing to take a chance and marry him was a real temptation.

She still loved him. With an intensity that let her know for as long as she drew breath, logic would never play a role in her feelings for him. Love was not an emotion she could control. She must either reject or embrace it.

Did she dare surrender to the yearning deep inside? Would she be able to protect her unborn child from a father who might be uneasy around it, who might be emotionally distant?

Eleanor closed her eyes. These questions could not be duly weighed and considered while Sebastian stood in front of her, clouding her senses. And if he did kiss her, good heavens, her wits would truly scatter.

Her eyes popped open. “I will concede that your proposal deserves consideration. However, I will not be bullied by you or any man. I need time to contemplate your proposal and by God, I shall have it.”

His gaze lingered on her lips for a heartbeat and then he nodded. “All right. If you promise that you will give my offer serious consideration, I will wait. But don’t take too long, Eleanor. In order for the child to be legitimate we must marry before it is born.”

* * *

Four days. For four days Sebastian cooled his heels at the local inn. Despite the comfortable accommodations, excellent service, and tasty food, he was miserable. Word had quickly spread that there was an earl staying at the inn and he had been besieged by the local gentry with invitations. He had politely refused them all, fearful of his reaction if he encountered Eleanor in a social situation.

Alas, his reclusive nature turned him into an even greater curiosity. He tried to keep to his rooms as much as possible, but eventually boredom set in and he would venture outside. Where he was immediately waylaid by virtual strangers, stared at and whispered over by nearly everyone he encountered. Ridiculous.

There had been no word from Eleanor and his notoriety made it impossible for him to visit or even write her, for he trusted no one to deliver the letters without announcing it to one and all. The lack of communication worried him and he feared she was ignoring him deliberately, simply waiting for him to leave so she could dismiss him from her life. The thought left him in a decidedly sour mood.

On the afternoon of his fifth day in what he now regarded as purgatory, Sebastian decided he had had enough. He would take out his mount for a long ride and make his way to Eleanor’s cottage. He would strive to remain undetected, but if he were spotted, then so be it.

Plans made, he strode quickly to the public stables where his horse was being kept. As he hurried past the shops on the main street, he happened to glance inside one where he noticed a group of
women clustered around a display table. Eleanor was among them.

The sight of her hit him with the force of a punch. She looked radiant, the swell of her abdomen barely visible beneath the folds of her cloak. The opportunity was too perfect to call it anything other than fate. True, he had promised her time to make her decision, but he had given her time.

He pushed the door open and strolled into the shop. Astonished silence greeted his arrival. “Good afternoon, ladies.” He lifted his hat and gave them all a sweeping bow.

Eleanor’s eyes grew round. Aunt Jane’s lips thinned in disapproval. All the other women blushed, smiled, or did both. He noticed one fix her bonnet, another hastily pinch her cheeks to add color.

“Lord Tinsdale.” A sharp-faced matron garbed in a hideous gown of deep orange answered his greeting, then swept into an awkward curtsy. The others quickly did the same, with the exception of Eleanor and Aunt Jane.

He smiled. “You will pardon the interruption, but when I spied all of you from the window I realized I could not go by without coming inside and greeting an old friend.”

Several sets of eyebrows raised and a dull muttering was heard. Judging by the anxious glances the women were throwing at one another, it was clear they were taken aback by his statement.