In Bed with a Rogue (35 page)

“Do you think he will break the betrothal?”

Sebastian shrugged and fastened the front fall of his trousers. “I intend to offer him more incentive to go through with the marriage.”

“I’m so sorry for everything,” she said with a weary sigh.

He turned toward her. “You are not to blame. Remember, we will get through this together.”

“I know.” She rubbed her nose as if fighting back tears. “Your mother and sister were wonderfully kind and understanding last night.”

“They love you, just as I do.” He pulled his shirt over his head, moved to the bed, and kissed her. “Get dressed, love. I can stay long enough for us to enjoy breakfast together. Be quick about it.”

Her dimples reappeared, and she scrambled from bed to yank the bellpull.

Belowstairs, Sebastian sent Fergus to purchase a copy of
The
Informer.
He wanted to know what damage they were facing. Less than half an hour later, Helena joined him in the breakfast room. She wore a simple apron-front frock in a light green shade that complemented her eyes, and her hair had been simply arranged.

“I should call on Olive this morning,” she said. “She should hear the truth from me. I hate to think of her reading the paper before I see her.”

It was still early enough for the countess to remain abed if she had attended a party last night.

The front door opened and closed, and Fergus appeared in the doorway in moments. The paper was tucked under his arm, but he also held a calling card. “Milady, you have a caller this morning. Laird St. Ambrose has requested an audience.”

Helena’s eyes rounded. “Oh! I suppose you should show him to the drawing room.”

Fergus nodded and stalked from the breakfast room.

Sebastian lifted his eyebrows. “St. Ambrose?”

Helena shrugged one shoulder, wiped her mouth with the napkin, and set it beside her plate. “I should see what he wants.”

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed when a dark red blush spread to her forehead. He pushed back from the table. “
We
will see what he wants.”

He offered his escort and she linked arms with him.

St. Ambrose was sprawled on the settee, his arm propped along the back and his foot casually crossed over his knee. He rose in deference to Helena and acknowledged Sebastian with a slight nod.

“My apologies for interrupting when you already have a caller, Lady Prestwick.”

“You aren’t interrupting, my lord.”

Sebastian arched a brow. “Indeed not, sir. My betrothed and I were just discussing the details of our wedding.” It was rather possessive of him, he knew.

“Congratulations, Thorne.” The marquess smirked. “And my sympathies, Lady Prestwick.”

Helena cleared her throat and lowered to one of the chairs. “Well, I suppose we should get to the reason you are here. Or should I order tea first?”

Sebastian took up position behind her seat.

“No, please.” St. Ambrose waved away her offer. “I won’t take up much of your time, but I have news. It’s fortuitous the baron is here, since it relates to his interests as well.”

“You saw
The
Informer
,” Helena said. “It wasn’t Cora, not that the culprit matters at this point.”

St. Ambrose offered an enigmatic smile. “I know Cora is not responsible. It was her mother-in-law.”

Sebastian blinked. “I’m surprised
The
Informer
would divulge its source.”

“It is not standard practice, no. Neither does
The
London
Observer
,
A
Lady’s Companion
, or
The
Talebearer.
But as the primary investor of every gossip rag in Town, I am privy to the sources. No story is printed without my knowledge and approval.”

Sebastian’s body tensed, his fingers curling into a fist. “What the hell are you saying? That you approved the story about Lady Prestwick?”

“I am saying that story will
never
be printed.” His eyes burned with a fierceness Sebastian hadn’t known the marquess possessed. “It would ruin Lavinia’s family, and I will protect her and the ones she loves with my last breath. And I will destroy anyone I must if necessary.”

“You truly love her,” Helena said softly.

“Yes, I love your sister.” The marquess shoved his fingers through his hair, his expression miserable. “Cupid is a vindictive little creature, is he not? I love Lavinia and she loves me, but it seems our differences are an obstacle to our happiness.”

Sebastian experienced a jolt of pity for the man. Even under the direst circumstances, Sebastian and Helena could be together. They might have to endure stares and whispers behind their backs, but St. Ambrose was in love with a courtesan. Miss Kendrick would never be accepted in their world.

St. Ambrose addressed Helena. “I have offered marriage to your sister. She has denied me repeatedly, but I will not tether myself to anyone else.”

Helena’s mouth dropped open. Sebastian didn’t know what to say, but the marquess didn’t seem to require a response.

“I have spoken with my brother about my wishes, and he is aware he will one day inherit the marquessate. The title will pass to my oldest nephew after him. I will never marry unless Lavinia agrees to become my wife.”

What manner of insanity was this? A gentleman would shirk his duty for—for…

True
love.

Sebastian had no call to pass judgment. Love made a man do any number of mad things. Even he had been willing to walk away when it came to a choice between his duties and Helena.

Helena shifted on the chair. “You own every gossip sheet in Town? How could that be?”

“I was willing to pay whatever price was presented. He who controls the gossip controls everything. Now Lavinia has no reason to worry about anything unsavory being printed in the papers when we marry.”

Helena’s hand covered her heart. “Has she agreed to marry you?”

“Not yet,” St. Ambrose said with a smug smile, “but I am told I can be very persuasive.”

Sebastian snorted softly. He had said something similar to Helena not long ago. Obviously, there was something about the Kendrick sisters that brought out a gentleman’s competitive instincts.

Suddenly, it dawned on him that St. Ambrose was not only responsible for saving Helena’s reputation, he had been shredding Sebastian’s the last few weeks. He scowled. “What was that nonsense about dragging up my past and questioning my sanity after Lady Gabrielle’s elopement?”

St. Ambrose’s grin spread. “They are
gossip
sheets, Thorne. I have to allow the papers to print something to keep everyone happy.”

“And I would feel happier drawing your cork,” he said as he rounded the chair and advanced on the marquess.

“Wait.” St. Ambrose held up a hand, laughing. “No more. I promise. We are as good as family now. You will never see your name in any of my papers again, nor anyone related to you.”

Sebastian halted in front of him and dropped his fist. He wasn’t likely to get a better offer. “I will hold you to that promise.”

He stuck out his hand and St. Ambrose shook it. “You have no cause for worry.”

After the marquess left, Sebastian had to see for himself that St. Ambrose was telling the truth. He retrieved the paper from Fergus and sat on the settee with Helena, flipping through the pages slowly. When they reached the last page without any mention of Helena or Prestwick, she closed it with a breathy laugh.

“That is it. We remain untouched by scandal.”

Sebastian’s lips curved up. “Is that so, Lady Prestwick? Untouched, you say. That will never do.” He tugged her on his lap and grabbed her bottom with both hands. She squealed and wiggled, making the task of touching her more enjoyable.

“Sebastian, the door is open. What if someone sees us?”

“You heard St. Ambrose. We can behave as scandalously as we wish without rumors of it ever finding its way into the papers.”

She stopped trying to crawl from his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I look forward to many scandalous moments with you, sir. I have heard you are worth the risk to one’s reputation.”

“Then I shall endeavor not to disappoint you.”

Her lovely eyes glowed and the dimples he had fallen in love with winked at him. “You could never disappoint me, Sebastian. In any way.”

And then he kissed her like a man who loves a woman should, with passion, tenderness, and a drive to always meet her expectations.

Epilogue

Olive had wanted to make a fuss over Helena’s wedding, but Helena took a stand and insisted the ceremony at St. George’s be kept small. There would be opportunity aplenty for Society to scrutinize her and Sebastian at the extravagant wedding breakfast being held at Eldridge House afterward. Now she just wanted to be around the people she loved most.

Ismay shook out Helena’s champagne-colored skirts in the church foyer before handing her a bouquet of pale pink hothouse lilies. “You look lovely, milady.”

Gracie took up position beside Helena’s maid and tipped her head to the side. She ran a critical eye from Helena’s head to her toes and back again. A wide smile broke across her face and she nodded, bouncing the tiny curls Ismay had made with the iron before they left the town house.

Helena’s youngest sister had come to live with her three days earlier. She hadn’t seemed disturbed in the least by the move, but Helena was still a bit wary about taking her to live at Thorne Place after the wedding. Her little sister had undergone many changes in her young life already.

Olive poked her head through the double doors leading to the sanctuary. “It is time. Are you ready, my dear?”

“Fergus is retrieving something from the carriage, then we will be ready.”

Her loyal Scot and his sister were staying in London until the end of the Season. Then they all would travel to Aldmist Fell in the autumn.

Opening the door wider, Olive held out her hand. “Come along, Miss Gracie. I need someone to keep me company while your sister and Lord Thorne exchange vows.”

Gracie went to her readily and took her hand. “Shall I help you back to your seat?”

“Oh yes, dearest. I’ve quite forgotten my way.” Olive winked at Helena before allowing Gracie to pull her down the aisle. The door swung shut.

Tears threatened to make an appearance, but Helena blinked them back. Olive had become a most precious friend, accepting not only Gracie, but the truth about Helena’s past. Helena and Sebastian had agreed it was only right to be honest with Wickie’s cousin, so she could decide if she wanted to continue an association with Helena.

Olive had pursed her lips.
I
always
knew
Wickie
was
hiding
something. I hate to admit the truth is less damning than my imagination
.

Of course Olive refused to comment further on what sins she had imagined her cousin had been guilty of committing. But it must have been wicked indeed, for Helena had never seen the countess blush before.

Your
past
is
neither
here
nor
there, Helena. I shall think on it no more and neither should you.

Helena couldn’t afford to be as nonchalant as the countess. In fact, she thought Olive was being too naive about the entire affair.
There
is
always
a
chance
everyone
will
learn
the
truth. Perhaps it would be in your best interest to keep your distance.

Pish-posh. Everyone has skeletons in their closets, my dear. Now eat your biscuits. All this worry has made you too thin in the face.

Ismay pulled the door open a crack and peeked inside the sanctuary. “Ooh, Laird Thorne looks more bonny than usual.”

Helena hurried to peek through the crack too and melted on a sigh. Impeccable as always, Sebastian stood toward the front of the church engaged in conversation with Lord Ellis. Sebastian’s black breeches and coat fit to perfection, and his gold waistcoat—which might appear gaudy on anyone else—was a spectacular choice. He was the bridegroom every bride dreamed of marrying. “He cleans up rather well.”

“He isna a stray, lass.”

Helena and Ismay jumped. The door swung shut and she turned to face Fergus. He held up a small box tied with a green bow. “Now, I am ready to walk you down the aisle.”

Ismay gave her a quick hug and hurried inside the sanctuary to witness Helena’s wedding. “Do no’ let me forget to give this to you after the ceremony,” Fergus said and slipped the box into his coat pocket before offering Helena his arm. “I am mighty proud of you. I know it wasna easy to let yourself fall in love. You’re a brave lass.”

She squeezed his arm. “Thank you, but it wasna hard to love Laird Thorne.”

He chuckled. “That was better, but you still do no’ sound like me.”

The double doors swung open and they began the long walk down the aisle. The arched stained glass window glowed softly, creating a sense of intimacy and protection from the world outside. Helena smiled at the familiar faces as she passed. Ismay. Lady Thorne, Eve, and Sir Jonathan. Olive and Gracie. The Dowager Duchess of Foxhaven. Lord and Lady Ellis. Even Lady Norwick and her husband had come.

And waiting at the altar was her life and her meaning. Sebastian’s dark eyes glimmered in the light. He took her hand and a thrill passed through her. As they spoke their vows, a golden warmth enveloped her and stayed with her while she signed her name in the parish record, all the way down the aisle, and onto the front steps of the church.

Their guests followed them outside and offered congratulations with hearty slaps on Sebastian’s back and hugs for Helena. Fergus passed her the small box while Sebastian was shaking hands with Sir Jonathan. She used her bouquet to shield it from view as Sebastian assisted her into the carriage.

Helena settled on the bench; a movement across the street caught her eye. She set the box on the bench and scooted closer to peer through the window. Lavinia stepped out of the shadow of a building, lifting her hand in greeting. Her sister’s smile warmed her heart. Helena pressed her hand against the glass, thankful for the small moments they could share. Even if it was from afar. Helena blew her a kiss.