Page 32 of Marriage Most Scandalous
It was no brief kiss he gave her. It was absolutely inappropriate for public view, even if their only audience was his brother. With his arms still firmly around her, his lips slanted across hers like hot velvet, so possessive that her will succumbed completely to his. Clear down to her toes she felt that kiss. And good God, the taste of him when his tongue slipped just beyond her lips and pushed against her clenched teeth.
He let her go with a chuckle. She was sure it was because she’d gritted her teeth in her effort to resist what he’d made her feel, and he knew that. It sounded natural, though, that chuckle. And then she realized he’d actually chuckled. What an actor he was! Could he fake any emotion at will like that?
She started to move away from him but suddenly realized that her knees were weak! She clenched all her muscles, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, pulling herself under control again. When she opened her eyes, she found both men staring at her, and she felt herself blushing again. This just wouldn’t do!
“Really, Sebastian, behave yourself in public,” she scolded lightly.
“Impossible, m’dear. We’re still newlyweds,” he said with a grin.
A grin! She was beginning to see why he’d once been called a charmer. His golden eyes gazed at her knowingly, as if they shared some secret, which they did! But that wasn’t the impression he was trying to give Denton, she was sure. No, he was being “naughty” for Denton’s benefit, to fix in his mind that their marriage was thriving in every way.
Rubbing it in, because Denton’s marriage was such a disaster? No, she didn’t think he held any grudges against his brother. Then again, how would she know?
None of the Townshends other than Abigail had ever spoken to her about Sebastian. And the one time she had mentioned his name when Denton and Douglas had been present, the atmosphere in the room had turned icy. Definitely a touchy subject, which she’d never broached again. Abigail had talked about him all the time, but nothing relevant, merely reminiscing about his childhood and how much she missed him.
Denton didn’t appear to be pleased by anything he’d just heard and witnessed. In fact, he was looking quite angry and making no effort to hide it.
“You should leave, before Father returns,” he said in a frosty tone.
Sebastian raised a brow at him. “Why? I haven’t come here to be reinstated in the family.”
“Then why are you here?”
“To see Grandmother, of course,” Sebastian replied. “Ever since Maggie managed to drag me back here, I’ve been fighting the urge to come see the old girl. And since—”
Sebastian didn’t finish. The front door burst open and a frantic fellow rushed in to shout at Denton, “Another accident, m’lord! We found ’im by the side o’ the road, lying in a ditch full o’ rainwater.”
Denton paled. So did Margaret, until she heard Douglas complaining outside the door in an annoyed but weak voice, “Blister it, man, I can walk.”
“We tried that, m’lord,” someone said. “You bleedin’ well toppled over again.”
Douglas Townshend didn’t get his way and was carried in by two men, one at his feet, the other with a good grasp on his shoulders. He was filthy and wet. And dripping blood from somewhere...
“What happened?” Sebastian asked before Margaret could. His tone was deceptively neutral, but she could almost feel the tension pouring off of him.
Douglas replied, his voice just as weak as it had first sounded, though some annoyance was still detected, “Fell off my bloody horse—I suppose.” And then looking up directly at Sebastian, he asked, “Who are you?”
Chapter 17
IT WAS AS IF A GRAVESTONErose up out of the floor right there in the entryway. That was certainly the feeling that Margaret got, so she could just imagine what Sebastian must be feeling, standing there looking at his father who refused even to recognize that he existed anymore. She would have been devastated. He probably was, too, yet not a single inflection crossed his features to show it, his emotions were so well contained.
Sebastian didn’t answer, which was probably fortunate. Anything he might have said—“your ex-son, a ghost, your worst nightmare”—would undoubtedly have sounded sarcastic or chilling.
The tension was killing her, so she began, “Douglas,” only to be cut off.
“Is that you, Maggie?” Douglas asked.
Margaret was too incredulous to answer for a moment. He didn’t recognize her? Then he hadn’t recognized Sebastian either!
“I’m seeing two of you,” Douglas said haltingly, “and you’re a bit blurry around the edges.”
Before she could reply, the fellow who’d rushed in with news of the accident whispered at her side, “’E’s burning up with fever, m’lady. Ye can feel the ’eat pouring off o’ ’im.”
Margaret nodded. She was rather good in emergencies and didn’t hesitate to direct the men carrying Douglas toward the stairs. Walking next to them, she assured Douglas, “Yes, I’m Maggie.”
“Thought so,” he replied so softly she barely heard him. His voice was getting weaker. “You’ll stay? Want to hear all about your trip and the fellow who managed to win your heart.”
“Certain—”
