Page 50 of Sinfully Daring

Rosamund’s hand tightened on his, and her smile made his heart hurt.

“Oh,” she said, giving a breath of relief. “Oh, thank heavens.”

Sebastian grinned at her. They were both out of their tiny minds. The scandal would reach fever pitch, and now he did not give a damn.

“Now we just need to persuade my parents it’s a good idea,” she said brightly.

His grin faded abruptly. Hell. Bedwin was going to rip his bloody head off.

Chapter 14

Louis,

I took it upon myself to pay a visit to the wife of your old master. The lengths I will go to for you surprise even me sometimes.

The vile creature lives out of pure spite, I am certain. I think the devil does not relish her nagging tongue in hell so keeps her alive, if barely. She looked far too pleased with herself but even my presence could not induce her to give me anything of interest. Perhaps because there was nothing to give, though I admit my gut tells me otherwise. Sadly, even my villainy draws the line at menacing sick old ladies. Though if I ever changed my mind on that, she’d be the woman to do it. How did you survive her? And to think she terrified you less than the old man. You had balls of steel, mon amie, even as a child. I think I shall have nightmares.

I have nothing to report that we did not know. She relished giving information to your Mr Knight’s informers, naturally, boasting of all the things she had told them. Sadly, none of it was untrue, though I am certain she presented the information in the worst possible light. I promised her I would dance on her husband’s grave on your behalf. I would have said her son’s too, except then I remembered that there had never been a body retrieved from the ashes, and not because we hid it.

As far as I can tell, the dead are still dead, but there was that smug look in her eye that haunts me still.

―Excerpt of a letter from Wulfric ‘Wolf’ De Vere to Louis César de Montluc, Comte de Villen.

15th July 1842, Dern Palace, Sevenoaks, Kent, London.

“Have you taken leave of your senses?” Bedwin bellowed at Sebastian, which was hardly a surprise.

It might even be true.

“Darling, please stop shouting. You are giving me a headache and the least we can do is hear them out,” the duchess said, giving her husband a meaningful glare.

“What the devil is he even doing here?” the duke demanded, sending Sebastian a look of such wrath he was hard pressed not to flinch. He was an imposing devil when his temper was lit.

“I wrote and begged him to come here, to the cricket pitch,” Rosamund replied, quite calm now. “I slipped out early this morning to meet him in secret. It was all my idea. In fact… I asked him to marry me.”

Sebastian looked at her, rather awed by her serenity, for they faced not only her parents, but Lord and Lady Montagu and Mr Gabriel Knight, who had arrived at the same time they had, in search of his wife. He had missed Lady Helena, who had just returned to town. Sebastian could inform Mr Knight of this as he had passed her carriage on his way down that morning.

Bedwin stared at his daughter. “You…” he began and then sat down, put his head in his hands and groaned.

“Darling, you told us there was nothing but friendship between Lord Hargreaves and yourself,” her mother said, studying her daughter closely.

“Yes, Mama, and that was true. Is true. But I am fond of his lordship, and I believe we shall weather this storm better together than apart.”

“That is undoubtedly the most ridiculous thing I have heard yet this week, and it’s got some stiff competition,” her father said irritably. “Do you not see that everyone will believe you were having an affair, and that Hargreaves here pushed his wife down the stairs to make way for you?”

“People think that anyway, Papa. At least, the ones who wish to believe the worst of us. If we brazen it out, however, perhaps they’ll think twice. For surely, we’d not be so blatant if it were true?”

Her father gaped at her, but Lord Montagu was considering them with interest.

“She has a point, Bedwin. It would take one hell of a nerve to do something of the sort if Hargreaves were truly guilty.”

“You’re not serious?” her father said, obviously astonished.

Montagu shrugged. “I think they might handle this better together than alone. Besides, they make a rather handsome couple,” he said, his piercing silver eyes resting on Sebastian in a way that made his neck feel hot.

He pitied the man’s sons. Poor devils likely never got away with a thing. Bedwin took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. Sebastian was under no illusion that only his wife’s presence had stopped the duke from breaking his nose on sight.

“Let me get this straight. He’s supposed to be in mourning for his dead wife, the one the ton thinks he murdered on Rosamund’s behalf, and you believe if she marries him it will smooth everything over?”