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Authors: Bronwen Evans

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical Romance, #Regency

BOOK: A Promise of More
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“Absolutely. The only conclusion the others can come to is that it has something to do with our fathers.”

“One should not be blamed for the sins of one’s father.” Beatrice knew that very well. Her family should not have to suffer because her father was a wastrel, a scoundrel, and promiscuous, so why should any other child bear the sins of their father?

Sebastian raised his head and opened his eyes and looked across at her. “You’re right, of course. But what it does mean is that someone killed your brother in cold blood; there was nothing honorable about shooting a man just to blame another.”

Her eyes narrowed upon him. “Blame? I don’t understand …”

“I’m positive, and Hadley is positive, that I aimed wide of Doogie. After I fired, a second shot clearly was heard. If I’d mortally wounded Doogie, how would he have fired his gun? Plus, do you believe Doogie would shoot after I had all but deloped?”

She bit her lip. Would he? “No. Doogie had some honor. He would have simply lowered his weapon and decided satisfaction had been received.”

Sebastian’s steely gaze glinted in the firelight. “I believe, as do the other Libertine Scholars, that someone else fired a gun deliberately at Doogie to ensure I was blamed for his death. And I mean to prove it.”

“How do you propose to prove this scenario?”

“I propose we go back to the day of the duel. Do you know the physician that Doogie would have used for the occasion?”

“Yes, he would have used our family physician. Dr. Taylor. Why is it important that we talk to the physician? Surely he would have forgotten the details of what happened that day. And if he had seen that someone else had fired a shot, surely he would have spoken up.”

“I would like him to tell me exactly where Doogie was shot and at what angle the shot entered his body. It should be easy enough for us to see whether it was my shot which killed Doogie or someone else’s.”

A surge of anger claimed Beatrice at his words. If Sebastian was right, her brother had been shot in cold blood. He’d been murdered.

If this was true, then it was not Sebastian’s fault her brother died.

A heavy yoke of guilt began to smother her. Each breath hurt. It dawned on her, so it must have dawned on Sebastian, that he was now married to a woman he needn’t have married. If he had known the truth of this, there was no way he would feel responsible for her family, nor would he be obliged to offer his financial support.

A shudder ran through Beatrice. “How long are we going to stay at Lord Markham’s estate?”

He seemed to ignore her. “The more I think about it, the more I am certain I was set up. I remember thinking how odd it was that Clarice propositioned me. Normally a mistress does not go looking for liaisons when she has a protector. I didn’t think about it carefully because I deduced she was looking for a new protector, given Doogie’s engagement and lack of funds.”

Beatrice didn’t know what to think. She took in the man sitting casually in the chair across from her and his relaxed pose. His long legs were spread out in front of him, his bare feet crossed at the ankles. He held a brandy balloon in one hand and his robe gaped open at his chest, revealing the sculpted muscles there. He looked like sin personified. Any woman would want him. She could quite understand why Clarice would proposition him with no other motive in mind except an evening of pleasure.

A laugh escaped from between his bewitching lips. “Vanity, thy name is man. I should have questioned her further.”

“You weren’t to know. How could you know that she wasn’t looking for a protector as you thought?”

Sebastian turned his head to look at her and gave her a steady gaze. “There is one way to find out. We should return to London after Christian’s wedding tomorrow morning, and I shall speak with both the physician and Clarice.”


We
need to go and speak to them. Don’t shut me out of this. It was my brother who was killed, and I want to know why and who was behind this.”

“It could be dangerous. I’m assuming that after all this time she is not being watched, but I could be wrong. It may also get a little bit nasty. I’m not sure what I may have to do in order to get the information out of her. Are you prepared for that?”

Beatrice couldn’t hide a little shiver. The intensity in his gaze and the coldness in his manner indicated just what an enemy he could make. But he was someone who
was on her side. He was also her husband. At the back of her mind, she tried not to recall he was a man she knew virtually nothing about.

“I just want to learn the truth. It would give me peace of mind to know the man I’ve married, the man I’m going to share my life with, did not kill my brother.” She gave a big sigh and stood and walked to the sideboard and poured herself a small amount of sherry. After everything she had learned this evening, her whole world had changed. She was no longer married to a man she should despise. He was suddenly a man she did not know, and a man she had trapped in marriage.

She returned to her chair and plopped back down. “I’m sorry,” she whispered softly.

He looked deep into her eyes. “What are you sorry for? None of this is your fault,” he said.

“But I made you marry me. You only married me because you thought you had killed my brother. You were honorable enough to try and right a wrong.”

Sebastian sighed. “I doubt any woman could
make
me marry them. What has been done cannot be undone.”

“It could be,” Beatrice whispered. She glanced toward the bed. “We haven’t consummated the marriage. You could, if you wanted to, have the marriage annulled. You could accuse me of using Doogie to trap you. And you could walk away, wiping your hands of the Hennessey family.”

He sat staring at her for several moments. His eyes trailed from her feet slowly up her body and settled on her lips. Heat followed in his eyes’ wake.

“But if I did that, what would happen to your family, what would happen to you?”

Beatrice hugged herself, fending off the strange glint in his eyes. “You know what would happen to us. We have no money. And it’s not as if any man is going to want to marry Henpeck Hennessey, is it? Not if you have our marriage annulled. The scandal would destroy me. But we—I—am not your problem.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You know of your nickname then?”

“Of course. The spiteful element within the
ton
took pleasure ensuring I knew.”

“I doubt you deserve the name. I suspect you earned the name by trying to stop your foolish brother from wasting the rest of your family’s money.”

Beatrice remained silent. Sebastian was right. She hadn’t cared what society
thought of her. All she cared about was saving her family.

“You married me even knowing I had the nickname Henpeck Hennessey? What would you have done if I really was a henpeck?”

“In truth?”

When Beatrice nodded, Sebastian continued, “I would have taken you up to my estate in York, and left you there once I’d got you with child.”

“You could still do that.” Beatrice’s breath caught in her throat as she waited for his reply.

For the first time that evening, he smiled, and it turned her stomach inside out. “I suspect you wouldn’t stay there even if I did.” He took a sip of his brandy and eyed her cannily. “I suspect you’d want to find out who killed your brother, and I suspect I wouldn’t be able to stop you from trying.”

Beatrice nodded enthusiastically. “You are right, of course. I won’t rest until I find the culprit. But what are we going to do about our situation?”

Her fists curled tightly in her lap as she waited for Sebastian to tell her the fate that awaited her—and her family. If he annulled this marriage, no other gentleman would ever offer for her hand. To be refuted by a marquis—she would never be able to show her face in society again.

“There is no reason for us to annul our marriage. It doesn’t change the reasons why I accepted your proposal in the first place. It is time I married, and it is time I fathered a son to carry on the Coldhurst name. I never wished to marry for love. Love doesn’t belong in a marriage. You know the only things I want are respect, trust, and companionship.” He stared directly at her. “And I believe that between us we could find that. I’m not unhappy with the arrangement, if you aren’t.”

Beatrice let out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. He wasn’t going to walk away from her. He wasn’t going to destroy her, or her family, and she had never felt so grateful.

“As I offered the proposal in the first place because of my family’s precarious financial position, which hasn’t changed, I’m perfectly happy to continue with this marriage. In fact, it’s a lot easier to stomach marriage to you knowing you may not have been responsible for killing Doogie.”

“You have no objections to sharing my bed then?” He paused and his eyes filled with heat. “I find I’m desirous at the prospect of taking you to the bed behind us.” Sebastian must have noted the tremors that went through her body, because he
softly added, “There is no need to be nervous. If you share my bed, I assure you, you will enjoy it. I think you can leave it to me to know what I’m doing.”

Beatrice thought back to the conversation she’d had with Lizandra. All Lizzy could talk about was the pain. But then, Sebastian Hawkestone couldn’t have earned his reputation as one of London’s greatest lovers by causing pain, only pleasure, and his reputation for finesse was undisputed.

He studied her steadily and said, “You look absolutely petrified at the thought. Has no one explained what goes on between a man and a woman?”

Beatrice nodded and looked away. She would have to tell him something. “I had a friend, a very dear friend. She had an experience that wasn’t very pleasant, and her experience has not made me look forward to intimate relations with any man.”

“So you are afraid? This friend of yours, her lover obviously wasn’t very skilled if all she felt was pain. No woman should feel any pain if her lover prepares her correctly.”

Beatrice turned to face him. “I feel inclined to believe you, since many women want to share your bed.”

“Have you never experienced desire? For any man? Or a woman perhaps?”

“Woman?” She puzzled over that while she took a deep breath. “No. I guess I’ve been a coward.”

“You must have been desperate as you broke your rule—you propositioned me.”

She could hardly deny it. “Yes. My family was desperate and I blamed you for our situation.”

“I suppose your father and your brother didn’t help raise your esteem of men in general. Did your mother not have the power to sway your father or your brother at all?”

“No. She had no idea how to manage them.”

Sebastian’s mouth curved cynically; he’d never allow any woman to “manage” him. “We should go to bed. We’ve got a big day tomorrow. I’ve agreed to stand up for Christian, but then I’d also like to get back to London as soon as possible.”

Beatrice glanced over her shoulder at the large bed behind her and took a deep breath to steady herself. She quickly looked back at her husband. He wasn’t the man she thought he was, but he was still incredibly dangerous. Apart from his sensual
charm and heartbreaker handsomeness, Sebastian Hawkestone possessed a potent quality that beckoned and lured, a compelling vitality that called to everything deeply feminine within her. Despite her fear about what went on in the marriage bed, she was also very vulnerable to him. The last thing she should do was fall in love with, or have feelings for, her husband, the man who made no secret that he despised love. A man who was only looking for someone to bear his children.

“I can see your mind thinking. Don’t let your fear cloud your judgment. You should empty your mind and put your trust in me to show you pleasures you have never dreamed of. Can you do that? For one night, your wedding night, can you trust the man you married?”

Her breath caught in her throat at the images his promise conjured in her mind. That and the seductive sensuality in his eyes held her so spellbound she couldn’t reply.

His gaze dropped to her lips. “Come here, Beatrice.”

She stared at him, still dazed by the seductive tone in his voice.

“You promised to obey me when you married me this morning. Come here. I promise you’ll enjoy it.”

Warily she searched his face, darkened in the shadows, but it was the faint line of stubble along his jaw, lending his handsome features a dangerous intensity, that made her evade his gaze. Sebastian’s vital masculinity didn’t exactly intimidate her, but she would be wise to remain uneasy, for the forbidden sensations he aroused so easily in her both frightened and titillated. The raw, powerful sexuality emanating from him was palpable, the unspoken tension between them very real.

Restless and adrift in unfamiliar sensations, she finally obeyed him and got to her feet, moving across the small space to stand in front of him. He reached out and took her hand and pulled her closer until she was standing between his legs.

“Give me your hand, sweetheart. Touch me …” He guided her hand to his face. “I am flesh and blood, just like you. I don’t want to hurt you. I want to teach you all the pleasures that a man and woman can share.”

He made her breathless, fluttery inside. And yet there was something warm and tender in his eyes that doused her fear.

“This doesn’t frighten you, does it?” he asked, drawing her fingers to his lips, letting her touch him there.

“No …,” she murmured truthfully.

He pulled her gently down until she sat in his lap. His strong arms came around her to cradle her tightly against his chest. His face was so close to hers she could see the tiny lines at the corners of his eyes. Laughter lines, her mother would call them, and it warmed her even more. He brought his mouth close to her and brushed her lips with his. They were warm and soft. Soft as the caress of a butterfly’s wing. An unmistakable yearning flooded Beatrice along with an unfamiliar hunger she could only call desire.

She stared at him, dazed, as he drew back.

The husky texture of his voice stroked her as brazenly as the hand that rose to graze the line of her jaw. “Have you never been kissed before?”

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