A Promise of More (28 page)

Sebastian held Beatrice back. “What nonsense have you been filling my sister’s head with?”

“I can’t imagine what you mean.”

“Can’t you? You know the story of my parents’ marriage. How can you fill Marisa’s head with fairy tales? Love for men of the
ton
is a luxury most of us cannot afford. Duty, titles, wealth, are what marriages are made of. Now, because of you, I feel Marisa will be sadly disappointed.”

She tugged her hand free. “I have not filled Marisa’s head with any nonsense. She’s an intelligent woman. Do you really think no man could ever love your sister? What makes her so unlovable then?”

Sebastian was suddenly conscious of where they were and the stares directed their way. “Stop twisting my words. Of course my sister is eminently lovable, but that does not make for a good marriage.”

“For you, maybe not. But Marisa deserves her heart’s desire.”

“Or is it that you had to give up your heart’s desire and are trying to live it through Marisa?”

Guilt pierced her conscience. Was she? Did she want to see Marisa in love because she’d given away her only chance to find love for herself? Was she pushing Marisa to do something she herself was scared to do? She looked at her husband and her throat dried, her heart clenched in pain, and her knees almost buckled. She loved him. And she was terrified he’d never love her back.

Sebastian, oblivious to the thoughts whirling in her head, pushed her toward the stairs. “We are drawing a crowd. We will continue this conversation later.” They ascended toward the box, Sebastian muttering beside her. “It’s time I picked a husband for Marisa before she does something foolish. It’s up to me to protect her from herself.”

“Coward,” Beatrice whispered under her breath. She would not give up without a fight. “Only a coward lives half a life, hiding from feelings as if love were their Trojan horse.” At Sebastian’s grim frown, she added, “Marisa is brave, she’s
willing to risk her heart.”

He turned on her then, blind to the amused and sniggering audience, fury marring his face and his fists clenched tight. “And what price will she have to pay for her foolishness? A lifetime of misery when love dies as it always does. Is that what you want for her? I would protect her from the pain my mother endured, and plan to do so until there is no breath left in my body.”

Before Beatrice could answer, a footman arrived with a missive. Sebastian tore his gaze from her long enough to scan the note. “It’s from Clarice. She’s learned something of interest. Go,” and he pushed her toward the box, “join the others. I’ll meet you back at the house later tonight. Tell Hadley to see you both safely home.” Without a backward glance, he was gone.

On the carriage ride home, Beatrice barely noticed where they were, thinking about Sebastian’s dictate about Marisa. Would he really force his sister into a marriage based on a cold-blooded business arrangement—like their marriage? She would not let that happen.

Marisa stared out the window lost in her own thoughts, a dreamy smile upon her lips. No doubt thinking of the very handsome Lord Rothburg, who’d stayed firmly in their box since intermission. He’d bid them a goodnight with the promise to call on Marisa in the morning.

Too soon they were home. Beatrice needed to know what Clarice had uncovered.

Hadley exited the carriage and had just turned to help Marisa descend when the front door flew open and Arend yelled, “Wait! Don’t let them leave the carriage just yet.”

“What on earth is the matter?” Hadley asked as Arend and Maitland rushed forward, their eyes sweeping the street.

Maitland spoke in hushed tones, hoping the ladies could not hear. “Sebastian was shot as he arrived home this evening.”

Beatrice didn’t wait to hear more; she was out of the carriage faster than a lightning strike. Heedless of the worried shouts behind her, she raced inside and up
the stairs with her heart lodged in her throat. Sebastian had been shot …

She heard Marisa close behind her, calling out for Helen.

She reached the top landing and Helen flung herself into her arms, tears streaming down her face. “Aunt Alison and the doctor are in with him. They won’t tell me anything.”

It was good having someone to comfort or she was sure she’d fall to pieces too, and the two frightened young ladies needed her. They stood hugging and sobbing in the hall until Maitland arrived and shepherded them like meek sheep into the drawing room.

“I’ve organized for tea to be delivered. Don’t look so worried, ladies. It is but a scratch and—”

“There was blood everywhere,” Helen wailed, which only made Beatrice rise from her seat. She had to see him.

Maitland blocked her exit. “It was only a flesh wound, but a second bullet grazed his head and head wounds tend to bleed profusely. I swear on my honor, he is fine. Why don’t you have a cup of tea and gather yourself before you see him?”

Beatrice was torn. She wanted to go to him at once, but what if Sebastian didn’t want her there? She finally retook her seat. “What happened?”

“He was shot as he walked up the steps to the door of Waverly Court. So none of you are to leave the house unescorted. We don’t know if the assailant is still in the area, or if he’s targeting anyone besides Sebastian.”

“Were you with him?”

Arend answered her question as he entered the room. “No. Your aunt sent word to us at White’s. Beatrice, he’s asking for you.” Both Helen and Marisa jumped to their feet. “Just Beatrice for now. We don’t want to tire him out.”

“I’ll send for you after I’ve had a quick word.” At Arend’s frown she added, “They want to see their brother. They won’t sleep if they cannot reassure themselves that he will be fine.” Without waiting for a reply, she hurried up the stairs.

At Sebastian’s bedchamber door she had to stop and compose herself. She was standing there taking deep breaths, readying herself to knock, when she heard laughter coming from inside the room, and she quickly opened the door.

It would appear Sebastian was not much injured. He lay on his side facing the door and was talking freely with the doctor, his muscled chest bare and very appealing, a sheet draped discreetly over his lower half, obviously naked beneath. Her
heart started drumming madly again.

Aunt Alison came out of his dressing room, wiping her hands on a towel.

“Don’t look so worried, Beatrice, he’ll live. He might have a thick head for a few hours, but that’s more likely to be from the amount of alcohol he’s consumed.”

“As it turns out, it was just as well I was three sheets to the wind, or I might have been injured worse. Besides, it dulls the pain from the doctor’s stitches.”

Beatrice hurried to Sebastian’s side, her eyes filling with tears of relief, which she quickly blinked away. That would be too much emotion for Sebastian.

She stood by his bed not sure if she should kiss him in front of the doctor and Alison.

“I’ll show you out, Dr. Jamieson,” said Aunt Alison.

The doctor gathered his bag before turning to address the patient. “No physical activity for a while or you’ll rip open those stitches. I’ll come by in a couple of days to see how they are healing. In the meantime, change the dressings twice a day and keep the wound clean.”

“I can’t laze around here for the next few days. There is an assassin on the loose.”

“You will if you want the wound to heal.”

“I’ll ensure he follows your instructions, Doctor.” Beatrice’s words earned her a scowl from Sebastian. As soon as the doctor and Aunt Alison had left, she approached the bed. “Are you really all right? The girls are very worried.”

“Only the girls?” he said, and gave her one of his wicked, heart-stopping smiles and patted the bed, inviting her to sit. “I’ll be fine. I don’t want the girls to see me until tomorrow. They’ll ask too many questions and I don’t want them frightened any more than they already are.”

She eased herself onto the edge of the bed and pushed his hair out of his eyes, her heart swelling with tender feelings. She longed to throw herself into his arms and hug him to death for scaring her so. “They won’t sleep until they know you are not badly injured.”

“I told Maitland to let them know I was fine.”

She raised one eyebrow. “Have you met your sisters? Nothing is going to stop them visiting you tonight.”

Just then there was a timid knock at the door and it opened to Marisa sneaking a worried look. Her face broke into a relieved smile as she saw her brother half sitting
up, leaning on his elbow and looking very much like his godly self.

“Oh, you are looking perky, so you can’t be badly hurt.” She giggled as Helen pushed past her and entered the bedchamber. “The bandage on your head looks ridiculous.”

Beatrice thought it made him look younger and vulnerable. It softened his aristocratic countenance and brought out her mothering instincts.

Helen appeared more concerned. Her young eyes raked his bare chest, no sign of embarrassment at seeing her brother half naked. “Where were you shot?”

Beatrice should have thought to ask that question. Maitland had already said the head wound was a scratch. To her surprise Sebastian’s face flooded with color.

“Nowhere that is life-threatening,” he said sheepishly. “Now, if you two hellions don’t mind, I’d like to talk with my wife privately.”

Marisa sent Beatrice a knowing wink, which Sebastian caught, and Beatrice noted his frown. The girls kissed him and told him they’d check on him in the morning, then left the two of them alone, quietly closing the door behind them.

“Where
have
you been shot? You don’t seem to be badly hurt.”

“That depends on how you look at it. I’m shot somewhere that makes moving distinctly difficult, and with you looking good enough to eat in that gown, I find I would like to move quite vigorously.”

As usual, trying to ignore the heat in his eyes was like trying to deny the sun. “You heard what the doctor said. No moving.”

Sebastian sighed and, still on his side, eased down so his head rested on the pillow. “Don’t suddenly go all Henpeck on me now. I need a little bit of soothing. My male vanity has taken a direct hit.”

She tried to ignore his gibe, for he had been shot, but hurt settled in her chest. Would she ever live that hateful name down? Besides, Sebastian knew more than anyone else how she loathed that name. Did he do it on purpose, to keep distance between them?

Anger flared and she stood. “Perhaps you could tell me what happened, since my concern is not required.”

“I was returning from White’s, having been to Clarice’s, and I will admit to being a little worse for drink. As I walked up the steps to the door, I tripped and fell forward just as I heard a pistol fire. If I hadn’t tripped, I’d likely be hurt far worse, or perhaps dead. Instead the bullet caught me in my right buttock—”

“You got shot in the bottom!” Beatrice couldn’t help but giggle. “No wonder you don’t want anyone to know.”

“Yes, all right, very funny. I was shot in the arse. Then as I tried to stand, a second shot sounded and just grazed my temple. By then Roberts and the staff came to my assistance, and the rest is a blur.”

She began to pace the room, not finding anything amusing in the attack now she realized how close he’d come to being killed. “This wasn’t a warning. Whoever it was meant to kill you.”

“Stop moving, you’re making me dizzy. Sit here,” he said, patting the bed. Once she’d taken a seat, he barked an order. “You and the girls are not to leave the house for the next few days.” As she started to issue a protest, he added, “Not until Arend says it’s safe to do so, and then only when accompanied.”

“Marisa won’t like it. She’s having a wonderful season, and finally Lord Rothburg seems to be declaring himself. He’s to call on her in the morning.”

He reached up and took her chin in his hand and forced her to look at him. “Promise me. I will have your word, Beatrice—your word. You will ensure Marisa and Helen stay home too. I won’t have any of your lives on my conscience.”

Beatrice couldn’t look away from the concern in his beautiful sky-before-a-storm eyes. He genuinely cared for her. She nodded her head.

“My sisters are my world. Say the words,” he insisted.

So much for caring about her. Sebastian obviously still didn’t trust her. What if Henry needed her? What if Monica summoned her? She couldn’t hold his gaze, for she would have to go. Henry had only Beatrice to rely on.

“I will not go out unless with Arend or one of the other Libertine Scholars, and I promise to ensure neither of the girls do, either.”

He kept looking at her before finally letting her chin go and leaning in and placing a kiss on her lips. “Good girl. Now, the alcohol is wearing off and my buttock is on fire. Be a good wife and pour me another whiskey.”

When she handed him the glass, he said, “Come and lie down beside me and tell me about your night.”

He drank the amber liquid in one gulp, and as she carefully lay next to him, on her side facing him, she saw the tiredness in his eyes. “It’s been a long night. Why don’t you try and sleep and we can discuss your visit to Clarice’s and what you learned tomorrow. I suspect the attempt on your life has to do with your visit.”