Johanna Lindsey (16 page)

We’ll have to wait and see.”

“Nonsense. You know my father thinks of you as the daughter he never had. He’s not going to blame you for succumbing to Seb’s charm. Just the opposite will be more like it. Another mark against my brother, as it were.”

Margaret sighed. She hadn’t thought of that. Not that it mattered, when Sebastian had no intention of staying in England after he finished the job she’d brought him here to do. It still amazed her that Douglas had had yet another accident, and right when she returned home.

“There weren’t any other accidents while I was in Europe, were there?” she asked.

“Now that you mention it, there was one. Father fell out of bed.”

“What?!”

She said it too loud, drawing Sebastian’s attention. She shook her head just the tiniest bit, to let him know it was nothing to be concerned about, then turned her attention back to Denton. “You were joking, right?”

“Perhaps I phrased it wrong, but no. He got out of bed, twisted his foot, and fell to the side.

Scraped his back up pretty good on the bed frame. And his ankle was sprained for a couple weeks. He blamed it on the rug by his bed, that it was bunched up and he put his foot down on it wrong.”

“I see.”

That really did sound like only clumsiness on Douglas’s part. She simply couldn’t imagine anyone sneaking into his room to make a mess of his rug in the hopes he’d fall and hurt himself. That was far too far-fetched—or the plan of someone who wasn’t quite right in the head anymore.

With Douglas absent, Margaret rearranged the seating so that they were all seated together at Abigail’s end of the table.

Sebastian seemed to be on his best behavior, no doubt for Abigail’s sake. But what a contrast!

He wasn’t pulling out any long-bladed daggers here as he’d done at her dining table. No indeed. Here he looked every bit the aristocrat, at ease, and so bloody handsome it really was hard to keep her eyes off of him.

But for a family reunion, he did more asking than answering, despite everyone’s avid curiosity about what he’d been up to these last eleven years. It was amazing how he could speak of his life in Europe and reveal only a little of what he’d done there. The man was as inscrutable as his expression usually was. She’d been hoping she’d learn a thing or two about him, but in fact she probably knew more about him now than his family did.

But while he said little of consequence about himself, he listened raptly to every word his brother and grandmother said. And he watched them and the servants keenly. Margaret reminded herself that he was just doing the job she’d hired him to do, trying to figure out who wanted Douglas dead. Though the odd link in the chain hadn’t made an appearance yet. It was certainly going to be interesting to see what transpired when Juliette returned home—and when Douglas woke up.

A
BIGAIL RETIRED SHORTLY AFTER DINNER. Sebastian disappeared as well, Margaret hoped to do the job she was paying him for, well,
would be
paying him for. Finding herself alone after Dr. Culden’s second visit, which left her with no better news about Douglas’s condition, Margaret chose to retire early as well.

It had been quite an eventful day, much more taxing than she’d expected. Trying to juggle the truth with the lies she and Sebastian had concocted in order to carry out their performance without making any mistakes had exhausted her mentally, if not physically.

A hot steamy bath was in order! Edna arranged it before she retired to the room she and Oliver had been given in the servants quarters. Edgewood had plumbing, but like White Oaks and most households, the pipes didn’t reach the upper floors, so water still had to be heated in the kitchen and carried upstairs. Margaret’s room did have a small separate room for bathing, or bathroom, as it was gaining popularity in being called, with a nice porcelain tub, which she put to good use that night.

She was just about to nod off, she was so comfortable in the tub, when she heard, “I was hoping you’d be asleep by now so we wouldn’t have to have this conversation.” Her eyes flew open. She sank down as low as she could go in the tub to hide. She simply couldn’t believe that Sebastian was standing in her doorway and said so. “I don’t believe this!” She hadn’t closed the door. She hadn’t needed to, since the bedroom door was closed. No one should have entered without knocking, especially him.

“Did I forget to mention we’re sharing this room? You know, just like we’re married.” His tone was excessively dry, as if she’d forgotten their pretense.

“Not all married couples share bedrooms,” she replied tartly. “Surely you know that. And we fall into the it’s-not-going-to-happen category!”

He sighed. “As I said, I really was hoping this conversation could wait until morning, but if you insist—”

“Just leave, Sebastian. We can discuss this any time but now.”

“Well, no, it obviously must be now, since I’m not leaving.” She poked her head over the rim of the tub just enough to see him. “What d’you mean you’re not leaving? We have enacted a pretense. That does not give you liberties that would otherwise be denied you. This is not going to work!”

“Be quiet, Maggie. It will work. If you’d put aside your maidenly modesty for a moment and just think about it, how better to keep any doubts about our marriage from arising than by our sleeping in the same room, with the whole household aware of it?”

“This is not going to work!”

“Be quiet, Maggie,” he said again. “Separate bedrooms would be fine at your house, not that I would allow them if we were really married, of course—”

“Allow?!” she cut in.

“But everyone here knows we’re just guests for the duration,” he continued, ignoring her outrage,

“that we have no intention of staying long—except my father, who isn’t even aware yet that I’m here.” Margaret wasn’t going to discuss that either at the moment. She could see his golden gaze trying to make out her shape beneath the bathwater. “For the last time, get out of my bathroom! If we must discuss the sleeping arrangements now, you will kindly let me finish my bath first.”

“Kindly?” He started to laugh. “Don’t believe I’m capable of that anymore, Maggie. But if it will expedite this discussion—” He turned to leave, then turned back again, his intense golden eyes meeting hers. “You have magnificent breasts, Maggie.”

Before she could scream, he closed the door, with himself on the other side of it. Margaret spared a moment to make sure it was going to stay closed, then flew out of the tub. She didn’t waste time drying off. She wanted her body covered right away. The pink robe would have to suffice, since she’d left her clothes in the bedroom.

With her robe belted tightly around her waist, she was still somewhat trembling from her outrage.

She leaned against the door for a moment, took several deep breaths. He was impossible. How could he make that remark about her breasts? She didn’t know how to deal with a man who did and said whatever he pleased. He’d lived alone too long, she feared, away from polite society. He’d forgotten how to behave around a lady. Or he simply didn’t care. That was more likely.

She wasn’t actually calm yet, but her heart had stopped pounding, so she took one more deep breath and opened the door. She was hoping, she really was, that he’d dredged up some semblance of decency and wouldn’t be waiting for her in her bedroom to finish a discussion that they shouldn’t
even
be having in the first place. It was a foolish hope.

Sebastian was stretched out on the chaise longue, a fancy piece in soft blue and green quilted silk.

It was designed for someone to sit on with her back against the high end and her legs stretched out comfortably, as she enjoyed a good book. It was designed for a woman to do that. She doubted Sebastian’s legs would fit even if he weren’t now almost lying prone on it, his calves off the end, his feet on the floor.

Both his arms were crossed behind his head. He looked entirely too much “at home,” with no intention of leaving. She was determined to put a dent in his current satisfied expression.

She marched over to the chaise, crossed her arms over her chest, and said matter-of-factly, “Did I mention this isn’t going to work? Your spending the night here? Don’t interrupt me,” she snapped when he opened his mouth. “We are pretending a marriage. We can bloody well pretend you’ve spent the night in here as well.”

He actually appeared to give that some thought, but then he shook his head. “That won’t wash, m’

dear. Too many servants passing along the corridor out there. One’s bound to see me sneaking in and out.”

“Rubbish. That is the impression you are striving for, that you have access here at any hour.”

“Yes, but not if I’m leaving at night and entering in the morning. Besides, if I’m known to be sleeping here, I won’t be given a separate bedroom, will I? So where would you suggest I sleep?”

“Do you really need to ask?” she asked with a tight little smile.

He gave a short bark of laughter. “Sorry, but stables and kennels don’t agree with me.”

“You aren’t being reasonable, Sebastian.”

He came off the chaise quickly in one fluid movement. She wasn’t sure how he did it, but he was suddenly standing there, towering over her, much, much too close. Nor did he let her get out of his way.

He put both his hands on her shoulders, pinning her to the spot.

“Let me put this another way,” he said, his tone turned husky. “If you continue to stand here arguing with me, which I believe I mentioned before I find quite stimulating, I’ll be sharing that bed with you. I’d wager after a few moments of my persuasion you’d stop arguing about the sleeping arrangements and be involved in something much more pleasurable. So I would suggest that you take this opportunity, while I still have some meager control over the lust you inspire in me, to get your delectable body under those covers over there and out of my sight.”

He let go of her so she could do just that. She didn’t hesitate, she raced to the bed. But she did pause there to glare back at him.

“You’ve lost all semblance of sanity,” she began, only to be cut off.

“Maggie, don’t tempt me,” he growled.

She dove under the covers, pulled them up to her chin. Her heart was racing again, her arms and legs trembling. It took nearly ten minutes and the silence that followed for her finally to calm down.

He had possibly waited for just that before he said all too casually, “I’ll sleep here on the chaise tonight, but if I wake up in the morning with a stiff neck, we’ll be taking turns here.” Margaret shot out of the bed, yanked off the thick bedspread, and tossed it on the floor across the room. It landed rather neatly spread out, she noticed, before she dove back under the sheets she had left to her.

“There,” she said huffily, pointing out, “I believe John mentioned to me, when we were discussing the accommodations on the ship, that you both frequently had to sleep on the ground during your travels.”

“Not on the floor of a bedroom,” he corrected. “But—you’re quite right, that will probably do much better. A pillow?”

“Certainly,” she replied primly and tossed one in the direction of the spread. “Anything else?”

“Good God, don’t ask such a leading question!” he barked at her.

She blushed and refused to watch him cross over to his new bed on the floor. He said no more.

And sometime in the middle of the night, before she finally succumbed to sleep, she realized that he’d managed to end their argument about his sharing her room rather abruptly with his threat of lovemaking.

Odious man. She had no doubt that had been his exact intention.

He’d be hearing what she thought about that—but tomorrow. Tonight, she was just thankful he wasn’t saying anything else that flayed her senses with more excitement than she could handle.

M
ARGARET STRETCHED, YAWNED, and sat up on the edge of her bed. She started to get up, then sat back down and didn’t move another muscle as her eyes fell on the man lying on the floor not ten feet away from her.

Sebastian had rolled himself up in the thick bedspread she’d sacrificed for his use. She’d have to tell Edna to find some extra bedding for him—no, what was she thinking? He couldn’t stay in her room another night. They were going to have that conversation again, and this time she would have the last word on the subject of sleeping arrangements.

He was lying on his side, still sleeping, one arm outside the cover. Her eyes followed that arm up to his shoulder before she realized both were bare. He’d removed his coat and shirt! She noticed them on the seat of the chair nearest him, quite rumpled now, as if he’d just tossed them there. And what was that with them? Oh, good God, he’d removed his britches too! This was intolerable. It was bad enough he was even in the room, but without his clothes on?!

Margaret shot across the room to her bureau, snatched under-garments and stockings out of the drawers with barely a glance, grabbed a morning dress from her wardrobe, and ran straight to the bathroom. With the door closed behind her, she took a few moments to regain her composure, then quickly dressed for the day.

Well, that didn’t work very well. She couldn’t reach all the bloody buttons on the back of her dress and she was wearing two stockings that didn’t match. She poked her head outside the door to make sure Sebastian was still sleeping, then rushed to grab a shawl and her shoes. She’d have to wait until later when Sebastian was gone to change her stockings.

She’d just reached the bedroom door to make her escape when she heard, “Open it and I guarantee you will be scandalized when I make the effort to stop you.” Margaret dropped her forehead against the door and groaned. She understood the threat. But he was all the way across the room. Surely she could get out of there before he reached her. And then chase her down the corridor? Bloody hell. She wouldn’t put that past him.