Chapter Sixteen

The door to the parlor opened and Seb sat up straighter in his chair. He was gawping and he couldn’t stop himself. Catherine was wearing a gown the color of blush pink rose petals, the candlelight rippling across the satiny cloth as she moved. It looked almost made of water, flowing about her. Her dark hair was dressed simply, but she did not need artifice with her beauty. She looked so stunning he couldn’t think of a word to say, and it wasn’t often that Seb was struck dumb.

It was a moment before he realized the others in the parlor were equally lost for words. He was about to rise to his feet—it seemed like the thing to do—but Lord Knowles was there before him. Knowles had already greeted him with the mocking comment that he looked like he was on his way to a ball in Mayfair. Seb had ignored him beyond the usual courtesies, and since then Lord and Lady Knowles had been talking in loud voices, dropping the names of persons they were acquainted with in London, as though it was paramount that they impress the other guests and make them feel inferior.

Seb had heard Anthea snigger a few times when Querol gave a muttered aside. The Fotheringhams looked completely out of their depth, and Benny had been silent. Their happy little troop was no more.

“Who is this glorious creature?” Lord Knowles asked, though it sounded more like a declaration.

Before anyone could answer, Benny shouted out, “That’s the duchess and you should call her Your Grace!”

Knowles frowned, but thankfully Rose arrived before he could give Benny a set down. The innkeeper had overheard the conversation. “This is the Dowager Duchess of Winstanton, who is staying here with us,” he said proudly. “Your Grace, have you made the acquaintance of Lord and Lady Knowles? They’ve just arrived.”

Lord Knowles gave him an impatient look. He had obviously been about to flatter Catherine even more ridiculously before the interruption put him off his stride.

“How do you do?” Catherine said faintly.

Effie Knowles smirked. “I saw you when we arrived. With Albury.”

“The road to the south is open,” Rose interrupted again, beaming at them. “And those of you journeying north should be able to leave in the morning. We’re expecting the mail coach. Once we hear them blow the horn, we’ll know for certain the way is clear.”

“I am acquainted with your sister, Your Grace.” Effie Knowles ignored the innkeeper and beamed a smile of her own.

Catherine replied, “Sophia knows everyone.”

Seb bit back a grin as Effie was silenced. She was a vibrant woman, always dressed in the height of fashion and with plenty to say. She was also an unrepentant flirt. She had offered Seb a great deal but her delivery in the bedroom had been disappointing. Especially when it turned out it was a show put on to titillate her husband.

Seb’s gaze went to his lordship. He was smiling at Catherine too, but his smile was far from that of a gentleman making her acquaintance for the first time. There was a word for that look, and it was lascivious. Seb watched as Knowles’ gaze slid over Catherine’s bosom, nicely framed by the bodice of her dress. Some men thought women existed only for their pleasure, with no other purpose, and Edward Knowles was one of them.

For a worried moment Seb wondered if he was like that. It was true he was an admirer of women, but he would never expect them to dance to his tune just because he might want them to. His enjoyment depended on their pleasure being mutual.

It was time for him to join the conversation.

“Surely The White Rose is too far from the capitol for the two of you? What are you doing so far from London?”

Effie smirked and simpered. “We were in Derbyshire when we were invited to a house party. It didn’t seem much farther north but the weather and the dreadful roads have conspired against us. If we had known, we would have declined—this is not at all what we are used to! But there were some very tempting inducements.” Her smile grew. “We couldn’t say no, could we, Edward?”

Edward took his gaze off Catherine’s bosom long enough to grunt.

Effie had already tried to get Seb to sit down beside her, but instead he had taken the smaller table, saying untruthfully, “I beg pardon, but I usually sit here.” Effie had looked put out. He only hoped that Catherine would pick up on his cue and sit beside him or he would be left in solitary splendor.

Now she hesitated, her gaze searching for an alternative, but the only other vacant seat was the one beside Effie. It seemed that Seb was the better option, and she took her place beside him.

Once again Effie appeared disgruntled. “Well! I see now why you refused to sit beside me. Never let it be said I stood between you and the duchess, Albury.”

The way those bright eyes slid from Catherine to himself, full of speculation, was particularly unpleasant. He noticed Catherine’s hands were shaking as she unfolded her napkin. Why had the wretched Knowleses to come now and spoil what had been a very nice tryst? Yes, things had gone a bit awry at the end, but Seb was sure he could have smoothed it over. He was very good at talking his way out of a difficult situation. Now everything felt painfully awkward.

The food arriving was a pleasant distraction, and everyone had to make the important decision between soup with bread and butter and soup without. When that was done, the only sound to be heard was whispering between Lord and Lady Knowles, a cackle of laughter from Anthea, and Benny whining that he did not like the soup and what were those “bits” in it?

As Catherine took a sip, her gaze slid sideways and she caught Seb watching her. She set down her spoon and raised her eyebrows inquiringly. “Do you have indigestion?”

That made him laugh under his breath. “If I were prone to it, then this would be the moment. But no, there is nothing wrong with my digestion.”

She looked as though she didn’t believe him, and he decided he should try some honesty. He had nothing to lose, after all. “Lord and Lady Knowles are the sort of people I avoid when I am in London.”

“And yet she seems to know you so well.” She picked up her spoon again, and then put it down. “Were you lovers?”

This was more frankness than he had expected! Seb wasn’t used to being questioned over his choice of partners, but in this instance he wanted to answer. It felt like the right thing to do, and at least Catherine wouldn’t think as badly of him as he feared she did now. Why it mattered what she thought was a topic he didn’t want to explore.

He bent his head and lowered his voice even further so that Catherine had to lean into him, their foreheads almost touching. It must have looked intimate from the other table, but he wasn’t going to share his secrets with everyone.

“Last year I made the mistake of spending a couple of nights in Lady Knowles’—Effie’s—bed. Her husband knew about it. When I cornered her on the subject, she admitted that he encouraged her liaisons. Not that there is anything wrong in that if both parties are agreeable, but in this case I had no idea I was bedding Effie for Edward’s pleasure.”

He waited for her response. Would she be surprised or shocked or amused? But her face was politely blank, her eyes still fixed on his. Seb noticed again how long and thick her lashes were, and the way her freckles made a faint splash upon her skin. He was feeling uncharacteristically nervous as he continued.

“She also admitted that Edward was watching us from an adjacent room. A peephole had been specifically built into the wall so that he could observe. It made me feel... grimy. I am no saint but there is something unpleasant in the way Edward encourages his wife to sleep with other men so that he can watch. It isn’t a game I want to participate in.”

Catherine frowned. He thought she would ask him more about Effie and Edward, but instead she turned the conversation to him. “Then you do have rules when it comes to your partners? Principles? I imagined a rake would be willing to try anything. Is there such a thing as a Rake’s Code of Conduct?”

Behind him he could Effie chattering away, dropping names like confetti, trying to convince everyone that she was quality with a capital Q. “So you know Prinny, too?” he heard Anthea ask drolly, and the gasp that followed.

He concentrated on Catherine’s question. “Despite what you may think of me, I do have rules and principles. These days... even before Effie, I was finding the life of a rake, that sort of life, had run its course. It has been a while now since I involved myself in such debauchery.”

Until you.But he left that unsaid because his time with Catherine did not feel like debauchery. It did not feel like anything he had ever felt before.

She stared at him in that manner of hers, like she was trying to read his mind, but he did not look away. Let her look, let her see he was not the sort of man she had obviously thought him to be. Then her expression softened, and he wondered if she would change her mind about tonight after all. Anticipation, the memory of her body against his, the way she had muffled her cries against his shoulder in this very room when his hand was between her thighs, made him shift a little in his seat.

Then Benny piped up behind them. “Will there be time to make another snowman before we leave?” His parents’ murmured response obviously wasn’t what he wanted to hear, because he called out to Seb. “Sebastian! Can you make another snowman with me before we leave?”

Unwillingly, Seb took his attention from Catherine and turned around. “I think the snow is melting, Benny. We will have to wait until next winter.”

As the boy bemoaned his response, Seb’s gaze went unwillingly to the Knowleses. Effie was smirking at him, but Edward was still staring at Catherine. That look on his face! He was imagining tupping her. Fury boiled up in Seb’s chest and it was all he could do not to stand up and demand the man step outside. One thing he was determined on: Knowles was never going to get his hands on Catherine. Even if Seb had to sleep outside her door all night, that lascivious blackguard was getting nowhere near her.

“Will you be staying here again next year?” Benny hadn’t finished with him yet.

“Benny, please stop it. The viscount has other plans and so do we.” His mother tried to divert him.

“What other plans? Are we going to London, like Anthea said?” He fumbled a little over the name, which caused Effie to snigger.

Anthea came to his defence, shooting daggers at the other woman. “You should, Master Fotheringham. There is so much to see your eyes will be as big as dinner plates.”

The child’s eyes were big enough now, as he questioned her about the various attractions. Seb couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm and added a few suggestions of his own, much to Benny’s delight.

Who cared that Effie was watching with a sneer on her face, or that her husband must consider him a lost cause? A renowned rake chatting with a child? But Seb enjoyed being with Benny, and he had enjoyed allowing himself to be silly and childlike. It was almost like he was rediscovering the boy he used to be, before hurt and suffering turned him into a man whose only pursuit was pleasure, his only need to forget.

In that moment he wondered what sort of man he would have been if his mother hadn’t died in that awful way. How would his life have turned out? But he didn’t go down that road. Such reflections were foolish and a waste of time. He was what he was, and there was no way of going back. All he could do was go forward and see where that led him.