Read At The Stroke Of Midnight Online

Authors: Bethany Sefchick

At The Stroke Of Midnight (13 page)

BOOK: At The Stroke Of Midnight
4.13Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

"Sebastian.
 
Don't."
 
Her cheeks flared with heat.
 
No one said things like this to her.
 
"I do not need flattery.
 
All I need is to be here with you.
 
In this moment.
 
Then I shall be
content."
 
He looked as if he
wanted to argue, but instead he simply tucked her hand into the crook of his
elbow and together they walked the grounds of where the chapel had once stood.

"But you are all of those
things, Jane, and more."
 
Sebastian
drew them to a stop near the back wall where, in the warmer months, a thicket
of wild roses grew.
 
"Only I did
not know it before.
 
I wish I had.
 
Then we would not be in this
predicament.
 
But I believed the lies my
friends told, never giving 'Plain Jane' a second glance until that night."

"Why did you even then?
 
Other than the fact that I nearly knocked
you down and ruined your shoes, that is."
 
She wanted to know.
 
Somehow it
seemed important.
 
Her life had changed
so drastically in that single night, awakening feelings she had not known
herself capable of possessing.
 
"What changed?"

He shrugged and pushed a wet lock
of hair that was dotted with ice crystals and snow from his eyes.
 
"Honestly?
 
I do not know."
 

Sebastian leaned back against the
wall, heedless of the snow and tucked her against him, her back to his front,
keeping her warm with the heat of his body.
 
Then he rested his chin on her shoulder.
 
"All at once, I looked and you were there, as if you had
sprung from nothingness to nearly run me over.
 
At first, I was bewildered because you were Jane.
 
Plain Jane.
 
The woman my friends spoke of as if you were some sort of odd creature
and not a lady.
 
You did not even speak
to men, let alone collide with one you did not know."

"And then?" she prodded,
eager now to know.
 
This was a far
different picture of herself than she had ever been given before.

"Then?
 
Well, then I suppose I looked down at
you.
 
Or tried to.
 
And instead, I found myself not looking
down, but rather looking directly at a woman, or very nearly as I am able given
my own abnormal height."
 
Jane
thought his height to be just perfect, but she didn't argue the point.
 
"I saw a woman looking back at me with
something more in her eyes than thoughts of gowns and fashion and jewels and
how quickly she could spend my fortune."

Jane laughed, a little chuckle that
made Sebastian tighten his hold on her.
 
"But I could, you know.
 
If
you wished it, I could be those things."

"But I never would."
 
He nuzzled her neck, heedless of the cold
breeze that had begun to kick up.
 
"For that moment when you opened your mouth and made the comment
about being tone deaf, I was captivated.
 
Here, at least, was a woman with spark and spirit.
 
You have no idea how enamored I was of the
idea.
 
And, rather quickly, how enamored
I became of you."

Jane decided that it was time to be
honest with him.
 
Here in the very spot
where her parents had married seemed like the proper place.
 
"I think I began to fall in love with
you that night.
 
You were everything I
longed for in a suitor but believed I would never find.
 
I have been trained to believe I am unworthy
from the moment I was old enough to begin thinking of my debut.
 
Men like you?
 
A family?
 
A life of my
own?
 
Those were things I was taught not
to want because they would never be for me.
 
Not for Plain Jane."

"Your family is
horrendous."
 
Sebastian pulled her
tighter, wishing he could erase the years of hurt and pain she had
endured.
 
"You know that, don't
you?"
 

It was on Jane's lips to protest,
but instead, Sebastian spun her around and silenced her with a kiss before
continuing.
 
"I have dealt with
your father, your stepmother and your sister.
 
They are not worthy of the trust you place in them, Jane.
 
I had hoped that your father might show some
spirit, as he
is
your father, and he has to a degree, but the other
two?
 
They are out only for themselves
and what they can acquire in this world.
 
Including men.
 
Specifically,
me."

"That is harsh," she
chided, uncomfortable with where this conversation was going and not liking it
a bit.
 
"They have not cast me out
or anything so horrid."

Sebastian gave a short, humorless
bark of laughter.
 
"Perhaps not,
but they have not treated you fairly, have they?
 
They have not taken your wishes into consideration.
 
Only what meets their own selfish
needs.
 
That includes your sister, who,
make no mistake, will still throw me over for Adam if she is given a chance, no
matter what she says now."

"They are not monsters,"
Jane insisted again, looking up into his dark eyes.
 
How could she make him see that - in their own way - they did
love her?

"Angeline is."
 
He said it so swiftly that Jane wondered how
much of her family's history he knew.
 
"She had the chapel torn down, didn't she?
 
Merely as yet another way to erase your
mother from existence?
 
Do not tell me I
am wrong, for I can see the truth of it written plainly on your face.
 
I had heard rumors among the servants and
had hoped that they were wrong.
 
I see
they were not."

He was right, of course, and Jane
could not find it in herself to deny it.

Growing up at Blackstone, the
chapel had been one of Jane's favorite places.
 
It was where her parents had married, but it was gone now.
 
Even then, it had been in disrepair, but
Catronia had planned to restore the old building, built by the original earl
for his wife.
 
Then, she had begun to
grow ill and all plans and renovations had been stopped.
 
She would return to the project she told
Jane, once she felt better.

That day had never come and before
Jane knew what was happening, Angeline had ordered the chapel destroyed.
 
At the time, Jane hadn't understood the
reasoning, but now, standing here with Sebastian - and even well before, really
- she did.
 
All too well.
 
The new wife wanted all traces of the old
one erased.
 
That now included
Jane.
 
Back then, Angeline had not been
able to manage it since Jane was still a child, but now?
 
Now, she seemed to be succeeding, the
current situation with Sebastian merely another example, and with that
knowledge came a new flare of anger inside Jane.

It was not fair and it could not
stand.

How dare Angeline push her
aside?
 
Better yet, how dare her father
allow it?

Here on the grounds of the old
chapel, Sebastian by her side, Jane felt all of the anger she had kept bottled
up inside of her for so long threaten to spring free.

From the moment Angeline had
entered the house, Jane had essentially ceased to exist in many ways.
 
Oh, she was still fed and clothed, given a
few seasons in an attempt to make her mark on society and snare a husband.
 
She was still a living, breathing person
after all, a mere child dependent on her father.
 
As the daughter of an earl, she could not be cast aside
completely.

However, Angeline had done
everything within her power to sweep Jane aside otherwise, acting as if she did
not exist.
 
Acting as if she was somehow
inferior to Lizzie, even though, as the eldest daughter, Jane should have been the
one to be celebrated.
 
It was
Jane
who should have been married first, Jane who should have been given in marriage
to Sebastian when he asked.
 
Not Lizzie.

And for as much as Jane loved her
sister - which she did and could not deny - she also had to admit that Lizzie
was not an innocent in the entire scheme.
 
In the beginning when she had been a child, certainly, but as she
grew?
 
She knew precisely what she was
about.
 
She wanted the adulation and
respect that being the eldest daughter brought and she, like her mother, had
pushed Jane aside, filling the
ton
's head with whispers and rumors.
 
Likely some of the very same rumors that had
long ago reached Sebastian's ears and given him reason to immediately dismiss
Jane as a potential wife.

Angeline and Lizzie had created
"Plain Jane," but Jane herself was also culpable.
 
She had allowed them the power to treat her
thus.
 
She could have spoken up or
appealed to her father.
 
Now, perhaps,
it was too late, but in the beginning?
 
She had been a child but she could have said
something
, given her
father a hint at her increasing unhappiness.
 
Despite everything, a part of Jane still believed he cared for her.
 
Last night had shown that he did.
 
Sebastian had all but confirmed it, also
narrowing down the reason as to why her father felt that way.

All one needed to do was look at
the portrait gallery, in particular the previous Countess of Devonmont.
 
Jane looked almost exactly like her mother
had when the portrait had been painted.
 
She was the living embodiment of Catronia and every time father looked
at daughter, he saw his beloved, deceased wife.
 
The one that, yes, Jane could admit the truth of it now, he had
often hinted had abandoned the family.

Her mother had not chosen the
die.
 
The fever had taken her, but
Sebastian was right in that, too.
 
In
many ways, Jane's father blamed his beloved Catronia and, after the initial
pain was gone, had transferred that pain and blame to his daughter.
 
It was wrong-headed and not logical, but
then, as Jane had come to realize, love was rarely every logical.

It was time for her to fight back
and attempt to reclaim her life.
 
And
the man she loved.
 
She might still lose
in the end, but at least she would go to Scotland knowing that she tried.
 
It was better that way than wondering what
might have been or the guilt she knew she would feel for not having attempted
to exert at least some control over her life.

Looking up at Sebastian, she knew
with an ever-growing certainty that she loved this man.
 
Foolish as that emotion might be was didn't
make it any less true or real.
 
She had
probably loved him from the moment they had met, wrong-headed and illogical as
it was.
 
Like father like daughter, she
supposed.

"You are correct," she
finally said, looking up at Sebastian and knowing that if she wanted him, she
would have to fight for him.
 
He was not
in a position to do so, but her?
 
She
was, at least to a degree.
 
It was odd,
but, at the moment, she had more freedom to fight for what was between them
than he did.
 
And she would use whatever
weapons were available to her in her quest to win the war and secure Sebastian
for her own.

"I am?"
 
He was obviously surprised that she had
agreed with him so quickly.
 
"I am
never right, especially about family matters."
 
He inclined his head back towards the manor house.
 
"Take my relationship with my mother as
a perfect example.
 
We do not agree on
anything at all, and yet, for most of my life I believed that we were always in
perfect agreement."
 
Given his
reaction, she could tell he was sorry that he had spoken in such harsh words
about her family.
 
She, however, was
not.
 
It had been true.
 
All of it, no matter how ugly the words.

Jane shook her head in
disagreement.
 
"No, you are right
about my family, particularly Lizzie and Angeline.
 
I am a reminder of a past they wish had never existed.
 
And I am partly to blame for that."

"You share no blame in what
they have done to you!"
 
There was
a fire burning in Sebastian's eyes, and she knew he would defend her to the
death, if called upon.
 
It warmed her in
a way nothing ever had before.

"I am," she replied
steadily, finally willing to face the truth.
 
"A small part, but a part nonetheless.
 
That said, it is time for this madness to end.
 
I am tired of being treated as if I do not
matter.
 
I am tried of being pushed
aside and denied.
 
In the end, I may
still be sent away, but at least I will have fought for what I want.
 
And in this moment, I want you.
 
I may never have you, not the way I desire,
but I need to know that I have at least tried."

BOOK: At The Stroke Of Midnight
4.13Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Clipped Wings by Helena Hunting
Colony East by Cramer, Scott
Alex & Clayton by John Simpson
Death and Deceit by Carol Marlene Smith
Vow of Silence by Roxy Harte
Southern Heat by Jordan Silver
Here Come the Dogs by Omar Musa
The Hangman's Lair by Simon Cheshire
Amos and the Vampire by Gary Paulsen
Hedy's Folly by Richard Rhodes