Page 22 of Surrender to Sin

Sebastian shrugged. “I was a late responder. But as soon as I heard of the fundraiser, I simply couldn’t ignore the need. And the ladies here were so very grateful for my arrival, poor pets.”

“They are but women in need of far stricter guidance,” said Lord Baxter easily, but his shoulders were rigid and his eyes practically spat loathing. “Dare we hope you might have followed my lead and dropped a few guineas into the fund? Or are you quite the cit now and channel all your resources back into, er, trade?”

Grace quivered as she attempted to smother a snort of laughter. Her wretched temporary fiancé no doubt considered that the worst insult possible, completely ignorant of Sebastian’s skill and lifesaving generosity toward others.

“Oh no,” said Sebastian, quirking an amused eyebrow at her before smiling equably at Lord Baxter. “I was pleased to donate. I can only hope two thousand pounds is enough to make a difference to that charming church and the good people who worship there. My mother was a part of the congregation for a time, and they were always so warm and welcoming to her…I say, Baxter. Are you all right? Forgive an indelicate observation, but you’ve gone a rather unbecoming shade of tomato. No, wait, aubergine. Now, where have I seen that phenomenon recently…hmmm.”

Lady Miles shook her fist at him. “Why, you unconscionable reprobate—”

“A gentleman wouldn’t make such an uncouth statement,” snapped Lord Baxter. “Nor would he put his hands on another man’s property. Step away from my fiancée.”

Sebastian turned and grinned at her, one finger slowly tucking an errant blond curl behind her ear then trailing sensually along her jaw. “It is my experience that Lady Carrington very much enjoys my hands on her.”

“No,” Edwina moaned, cupping her pale cheeks. “Oh no. Grace, what have you done, you stupid, stupid girl?”

Taking a deep breath, strengthened by Sebastian’s touch and presence, Grace looked her stepmother square in the eye, and smiled widely. “Everything.”

Lady Miles swooned. Edwina’s face twisted and she flailed her arms in apoplectic rage. Sebastian began to laugh.

“’Tis true,” he said, his amber eyes gleaming. “My darling Gracie is a most willing and adventurous minx. By the by, Baxter. I must chide the use of such an archaic term as property. Good God, man, next you’ll be saying a lady must endure rather than enjoy the bedchamber.”

Lady Miles gasped from where she sat on the floor, having been revived by a friend waving a vial of hartshorn under her nose. “Lord St. John!”

“Be at ease, my lady,” said Lord Baxter, bestowing a small smile on the fallen pumpkin. “St. John’s upbringing was far more casual than ours and Lady Carrington’s due to his mother’s background. A common strumpet wasn’t she, my lord?”

Sebastian’s laugh was carefree, but his eyes were stormy. Grace shuffled closer, about ready to spit on Lord Baxter’s champagne-polished boots.

“No,” drawled Sebastian. “Cherished companion to a select few in the upper echelons of power. Then she met my father and happily retired. But I daresay you are right, my upbringing being different to yours. Several generations apart and all that. Now, Lady Carrington, I wonder if you are a trifle parched after this afternoon’s exertions and excitements. May I fetch you a glass of punch?”

She nodded. “That would be lov—”

“No time,” said Lord Baxter with a bland smile. “The speeches are about to start. St. John, I do believe you have outstayed your welcome and should depart with all haste. Come along, Grace my dear, Edwina, our seats are reserved next to the bishop’s.”

Before she could blink, her fiancé hooked his arm around hers and started dragging her toward the front of the room. When she glanced back, Sin still watched them, and from this distance he looked troubled, as though torn between several emotions. The same as she.

“My lord,” she gritted out, turning back to Lord Baxter and shaking her head at the fanciful thoughts. “I don’t believe we are going to miss anything. The committee hasn’t set up yet.”

“Oh, I know. But I wanted a word in private with you. Edwina, would you mind?”

As her stepmother fled, Grace’s heart skipped a beat. Was this it, the moment she’d been wishing for—him crying off and setting her free?

“Yes, Lord Baxter?” she said softly, keeping her gaze on the ground so he wouldn’t see her joy.

“You have acted with atrocious disregard for propriety this afternoon, Lady Carrington. Allowing a lowborn whelp like St. John to touch you. Insolence toward Lady Miles and your stepmother. Causing scenes in the middle of a fundraiser. All conduct grossly unbecoming my fiancée.”

“And so?” said Grace, hardly daring to believe her good fortune. Tentatively she lifted her head, ready to be faced with revulsion and righteous anger as he formally ended their betrothal.

Instead, Lord Baxter’s pale eyes were bright with feverish excitement. “You may not be aware, but everyone invited here today is utterly beholden to me. Over time I have collected their debts, loaned them money, provided introductions, and done them favors. But one misstep, and I will collect. I own them. Just as I will own you.”

“What?” she said, confusion and stark horror almost robbing her of voice. The man wasn’t just awful, he was actually evil.

“They know I will destroy each and every one of them…their families, livelihoods, and social standing…should one word spread of your shocking behavior. But now your true depraved and willful nature is revealed, I must answer the calling. You require a husband with a stern, resolute hand, one who is prepared to employ whatever correctional methods necessary to ensure you stay on the right path. I will be that man. And so, Lady Carrington—Grace—we must bring the wedding date forward.”

Chapter Six

“Apologies for disturbing you, my lord, but you have an unexpected visitor. She says she needs to speak with you urgently.”

Sin glanced up from his parlor desk, where he was attending to the last minute list of costume requirements for the evening’s annual pirate ship fantasy extravaganza. The most anticipated event on Fallen’s calendar, the extravaganza allowed club members to either take full part in the most extreme and uninhibited of role-play orgies, or indulge their voyeuristic tendencies and watch from comfortable tiered seating. It promised to be an intense sexual spectacle and a half, as things tended to be when Vice was in command.