Chapter 7

Chapter 7

As Sebastian had expected, his father was quiet for most of the ride home. He too, remained quiet—after all, there were only so many times a man could explain that he had merely behaved like any gentleman would have before getting exhausted by the mere prospect thereof.

It was pointless too, he realized as he thought back to William Wentworth's stern face when he and his father had arrived in his study. He made it quite clear that the truth, at least to him, was irrelevant and Sebastian let out a frustrated sigh at this.

It was this sigh that loosened his father's tongue as they arrived at the manor, and Fitzgerald looked at Sebastian with a dark frown.

"Do you have something to say, boy?"

"I just…" Sebastian sighed. He had not been granted much of an opportunity to say much at the Wentworth estate—his father had taken that upon himself.

"I just don't feel good about this plan," he admitted at last. "I am not fond of how it makes me seem. It does not sit well with me."

Fitzgerald simply shook his head with a scoff. "Why must you be difficult?" he asked tiredly and Sebastian sighed.

"Father," he tried reasoning again, though he was rather convinced that it was futile. "This was all a mere misunderstanding, and I am not certain that we are going about it the right way."

"Oh!" Fitzgerald laughed derisively and glared at his son. "Do tell me, Sebastian, with your infinite wisdom, what it is we are doing wrong?"

Despite his father's condescension, Sebastian still tried. "The entire ton has seen me with Beatrice," he started but Fitzgerald merely scoffed.

"No announcement was ever made," he quickly countered, and Sebastian sighed. "Perhaps not," he relented, "but people have seen us together."

Fitzgerald glared down at his son. "You are being deliberately difficult," he accused. "We can explain that you were privately engaged to Caroline and that will explain why you spent time with her sister. People will be far more forgiving of your… indiscretion… if they believe that you were engaged to the girl all along.

Sebastian shifted uncomfortably at this. He did not like it one bit, but he knew that trying to explain that to his father would be a glorious waste of his time. Not for the first time, he wished that he could speak to Caroline or Beatrice—explain everything to them.

But asking would have been absolutely futile—this much he knew. He closed his eyes with a suppressed sigh.

"I didn't mean for any of this to happen," he mumbled, but rather than soothe his father, this seemed to inflame him even more.

"That is the problem with you, Sebastian," he burst out. "You never mean for these things to happen and yet scandals tend to cling to you! You attract them to you, or you must simply be the unluckiest man in the world. It cannot possibly be that you are the one in charge of your own life, it cannot be that your choices cause these things, can it?"

Sebastian opened and closed his mouth, bitterness taking hold of him. His father's claim that he was in charge of his own life was preposterous—but of course he could not dare to say that.

Again, he allowed his mind to drift to Caroline and the anxious look on her pale face he'd seen in the garden. Gone was the spontaneous girl who had challenged him over dinner, who had laughed with him on the balcony—she seemed to be a mere shadow of the girl he had met.

Marrying her would be the right thing to do, he realized. He had no choice but to go through with it—he had to help her. The poor girl was frightened out of her mind—that much was clear.

"I suppose I will marry Caroline," he mumbled, and Fitzgerald looked at him as though he'd suddenly spurted another limb.

"Of course you will," he said as though it had never been an option. "What are you talking about?"

As much as Sebastian wanted to say that he would only go through with this marriage if both women were alright with it, he knew that doing so would only irk his father even more. He could only hope that the results of this marriage would not be disastrous due to the circumstances thereof.

***

Caroline had fled from the garden and back to her chamber rather quickly after seeing Sebastian out on the lawn. His sudden appearance at the estate had brought back the treacherous dreams she'd had, and she could not stand to look at the man responsible for the thoughts that were such a gross betrayal to her sister.

Where she sat on her bed now, Caroline could not dim the light of curiosity that shone within her heart. Why was he there? She supposed it had to do with his marriage to Beatrice. She could only hope that there was a way to salvage her sister's wedding—Beatrice, she knew, would never forgive her if Caroline ruined her marriage.

"My lady…"

A hesitant knock at the door had her looking up quickly, facing Anne with a forced smile. "My lady," the other girl continued, "Your father is calling for your presence in his study."

Caroline jumped to her feet and ran a hand through her hair. "Thank you… thank you, Anne," she muttered—and she did not miss the sympathetic glance Anne shot her way. Her heart raced as she rushed down to the study. Hope stirred in her heart—perhaps her father would merely scold her once again before announcing that the wedding would go forward.

She hesitated when she noticed Beatrice already seated in their father's study—her face pale and her blue eyes wide.

Though she wanted nothing more than to reach out to her sister, Caroline wisely turned her gaze to her father with a muttered greeting and waited for his permission to sit.

William Wentworth rounded the desk and looked at his daughters sternly before speaking.

"I am not happy about this," he said at last. "It is a grave disappointment to me, Caroline. A grave disappointment that one of my daughters was caught in a scandal with… with that man."

Caroline looked up nervously at this, but when she met her father's angry eyes, she quickly averted her gaze back to her hands and her cheeks flushed.

"I spoke to Lord Burlington and his rake of a son," William continued, his voice cold. "And we agree that there is only one way to handle this scandal."

Caroline looked up hopefully. Beatrice and Sebastian would marry, she was certain of it—so certain that she did not hear her father's next words until Beatrice turned to face her, tears forming in her eyes.

"Oh you awful, awful girl!" Beatrice let out shakily as she looked at Caroline. "This is all your fault! Do you have any idea what you have done to me?"

Caroline looked from her father to her sister, silent and dumbstruck. She was still not quite certain what was happening, but Beatrice now had two angry red blotches on her pale cheeks and her eyes were wild in her head.

"I will never forgive you for this, never!" she ascertained angrily. "I will be a spinster forever because of you! Oh, I should have known that you would do something like this when you waxed lyrical about how handsome he was! I… I hate you!"

Caroline was barely aware of the muttered apology that stumbled over her lips—watching in a daze as Beatrice stormed from the room. Only once her sister was gone, did she turn to face her father once more.

Though she had no doubt that he was furious, her father looked remarkably calm as he spoke.

"We will not waste time," he said simply, as though he were discussing nothing more than a business transaction. "Your wedding to Sebastian Fairchild will take place soon—as soon as possible, in fact."

Caroline felt a wave of heat rushing over her and she shook her head.

Marry Sebastian?

It was impossible. She couldn't. She wouldn't.

For a treacherous second, it was the thought of spending every day in close proximity with the man whose arms had felt so strong and comforting around her that sent heat rushing to her cheeks. Her entire body heated up at the thought of spending not only days, but nights with him—in his bedchamber, in his bed. This thought however, was quickly replaced by a small voice—sounding rather like her sister—screaming that she was a traitor.

"Father…" Caroline got out at last, her lips dry and her voice small. "Please… please do not make me do this."

William merely looked at his daughter and Caroline stared at him pleadingly.

"I cannot marry him!" she let out at last. "Please… please do not make me marry him, Beatrice… she will be heartbroken. She will never forgive me."

Though she pleaded earnestly, Caroline could not shake the thought that her words were empty. While she was quite certain—and terrified—that her sister would never forgive her if she married Sebastian, a part of her was rather certain that it was not about Sebastian at all—instead, she knew that Beatrice was not in fact heartbroken over the man, but rather the idea of being married that she'd held onto.

"You have no choice, Caroline," William said sternly. "As for your sister's heart, that is something you should have thought of before you were caught in a scandal with the man. Right now, we need to do everything in our power to ensure that your reputation is not ruined beyond repair!"

"I don't care about my reputation," she burst out. "I do not care if it is ruined, I do not care if I never marry… if you send me away… But I cannot marry him, please!"

Despite her earnest pleas, William seemed quite unaffected. "You will marry Sebastian," he said simply, his voice cold. "It is the one favor you can do for your sister now."

Caroline frowned at this and William shook his head irritably. "If your reputation is ruined, Caroline," he explained coldly, "your sister will suffer too. That is why I will not listen to your pleas or heed your tears. It is too late now."

He was right, Caroline realized with a shock. If she did not marry Sebastian, she'd be branded with the reputation of a loose woman—a harlot—and Beatrice would be branded merely because of their close relation.

Her father was right. She truly had no choice.

"Alright," she whispered, though she was quite aware that her father barely heard her. "I will marry him."

Her heart raced wildly within her chest as she said this, and she pressed her clammy hands on her lap to keep them from trembling. Her father, however, did not notice this for he did not look up from the documents he was already perusing.

"Of course you will," he muttered simply before dismissing her with a wave. Caroline stood slowly, leaving the study without a word.

Her feet felt heavy as she walked to her own bedchamber, tears burning behind her eyelids, tears that she would not allow to fall. She hesitated in front of Beatrice's door. She could hear miserable sobs from within the chamber and she wanted nothing more than to enter, hold her sister in her arms and comfort her, but she knew that Beatrice would not want it.

She had gained a betrothed and lost a sister all in one horrible misunderstanding.