Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

D elacourt's fist slid across Sebastian's chin and it was only that his friend held back that kept him from being knocked on his arse in the middle of the ring.

"Jesus," Delacourt barked. "Keep your hands up, you're acting like you've never done this before."

Sebastian lifted a wrapped hand to indicate he needed a moment and walked back to the corner of the ring. They were at their boxing club, Ripley's, as was their normal Wednesday activity, but he wasn't focusing. He swept up a towel and wiped a bit of sweat from his bare chest. He had to get his mind right or Delacourt was correct. He was going to get hurt.

"What is wrong with you?"

He turned to find Delacourt standing over his shoulder, rubbing his own chest with a towel. He looked both annoyed and concerned.

"Distracted," Sebastian said with a shrug. "I can't seem to stop being distracted."

"Over anything in particular?" Delacourt asked.

Sebastian looked at him as he folded the towel over the ring rope and walked back to the center of the sparring area. "Nothing I wish to discuss."

"Hmmm." Delacourt followed. "Seems you and my sister suffer the same affliction."

Now Sebastian tensed, even as he tried to keep his voice unaffected. "What? Distraction?"

"Yes. Though I suppose Mari is much more often troubled in her thoughts and even more so since the death of her friend." He sighed.

Sebastian almost did the same. He didn't want to hear that Marianne suffered, but there was a part of him that was happy they were both caught up in the same swirl. At least he wasn't alone in his unwanted thoughts.

"I hope the country party will lift her spirits," Delacourt said as they set their feet again to continue their sparring. "And yours. Our carriage will pick you up Saturday morning around ten, if that is agreeable."

Sebastian frowned as he threw a punch, which Delacourt easily blocked. "I've been meaning to talk to you about that. I think it would be better if I rode my own mount out."

Honestly, it would be better if he didn't go at all, but he couldn't do that. He loved going to the yearly party that Delacourt and Marianne hosted at the end of each summer. And if he were honest with himself, he wanted to see her. He hadn't seen her in two weeks. It gnawed at him. If he could go to this party and be appropriate, then perhaps it would put them back on the road to their old friendship. He wouldn't lose her.

Delacourt paused and lowered his hands. "Why?"

That was a loaded question, but Sebastian shrugged. "I have some things to do and I don't want to keep you from your preferred arrival time."

Delacourt wrinkled his brow but nodded. "Very well, it's your decision, of course. I think it will be a smashing party. You need the break. So do I."

Now Sebastian tilted his head, his own torments forgotten as he saw raw frustration on his friend's face. "What do you need a break from?"

Delacourt pursed his lips and his gaze turned distant for a moment. "Irritations that are not worth discussing. Come, lift those hands, I need to box out some of this discomfort."

Sebastian did as he'd asked, but as they returned to their sparring, he couldn't help but wonder what would come of all these secrets the three of them were keeping from each other. And what would happen if he allowed his desires for Marianne to overwhelm him at the country party.

He just had to control himself.

" M arianne?"

Marianne jolted and looked up from her tea to find her brother watching her with concern in his stare. She forced a smile. "My apologies, Finn. I'm such a featherbrain as of late."

"You've been distracted," he said slowly. "For almost two weeks, yes."

She flinched. Two weeks. Finn had unknowingly pinned the exact date of when she'd gone to Sebastian. When he'd done such wicked things with his tongue that had haunted her dreams ever since. When he'd told her he wouldn't ever choose her over his friendship with her brother.

"I'm simply busy with party preparations," she said, pointing to the papers they had been working on together during their tea. "We leave in so short a time—I want to ensure everything is perfect."

His brow wrinkled. "We've done this party every year for I can't recall how long and it's always wonderful, Mari. You needn't trouble yourself so much that it keeps you up at night."

She took a slow sip of her tea so he wouldn't note how his statement affected her. "Who says I'm up at night?"

"Aunt Beulah mentioned hearing you wandering the halls when I took her to church last week," Finn said. "The day you had a headache."

"She cannot hear when I ask her to pass the tea, but she has no problem listening to me go to the library late at night to fetch a book?" Marianne said with a forced laugh.

She got a half-smile in return. "Well, she'll enjoy being on her own while we're gone. I think she intends to call on all her friends."

"Yes, and Cousin Fiona is coming, I believe," Marianne said absently as she looked at a sketch of the guest rooms in the estate outside of London. Names were written in the boxes representing them. Sebastian's was there, in her own hand, in the chamber closest to the family quarters. Four doors down from her own.

"…won't be going with us in the carriage as usual."

Finn's voice pierced her thoughts again and she jerked her head up. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"You remain distracted," he said with a shake of his head. "An affliction that Ramsbury shares, it seems. He told me when I met with him yesterday that he didn't intend to ride with us to the estate."

She drew in a breath. She and Sebastian had been studiously avoiding each other for weeks, but the three of them always rode out to the estate in the carriage together for this gathering. She'd actually been looking forward to it, hoping that the time together with her brother as chaperone would help them get some of their old friendship back.

"Did he give a reason?"

"Not a good one," Finn said with a shake of his head. "He's been out of sorts lately. I've tried to determine why. Perhaps it's trouble with a lady."

Marianne clenched her hands in her lap. "Well, that would fit his personality, wouldn't it?"

Her brother laughed again. "It would. Or it did but he isn't—" He cut himself off. "Forgive me, these are not topics to discuss with my sister."

"He still intends to come, though?" she asked, hating the lilt of desperation to her tone. "He hasn't rejected the invitation outright?"

"He's coming," her brother said. "And I think we'll all enjoy the respite. London seems too…close this year. Too hot."

There was something in her brother's tone that drew Marianne's attention to him. He had a troubled line to his lips, but he didn't give her a chance to question him about it.

"Now I'm off to my club. Must meet with a few gentlemen before we depart. Thank you again for the company and all the assistance. I do appreciate you." He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek and then he was gone, thundering out of her drive a few moments later.

Marianne sat staring at what remained of her tea, her breath a bit shorter. Then she got up and rang her bell. When Adams appeared, she said, "Will you fetch me something to write with and ask a footman to prepare to deliver it immediately?"

"Yes, my lady, of course."

After he departed, she returned to the table and pushed aside her drink and all the papers she had been studying with Finn. Right now she had more pressing matters to attend to. Ones she could no longer pretend away.

S ebastian had received many letters from Marianne over the years. Invitations to suppers, messages of thanks for some small kindness, larger letters of condolence that he still kept in the drawer of his desk, along with the gloves she had forgotten when she came to box at his home what felt like a lifetime ago.

Never had one been so curt as the one he'd received half an hour before. The one practically burning a hole in his pocket as he rode onto her drive.

I need to see you. Now.

Marianne.

Two lines and a signature, nothing more. And yet he felt her frustration in every word.

"Good, then she is matching my own," he muttered as he swung off the horse and gave over the reins to her servant. He was halfway to the door when it opened and revealed the lady herself.

He stopped on the stairs to look at her. Had pale green always been her color? It was really lovely on her, with the sunshine coming down on her like a beacon. She almost looked like a wood sprite. Were those supposed to be wicked or good? He couldn't recall.

"I'm pleased you came," she said.

He shook off his unexpected thoughts and tried to behave as he normally would by forcing a smile. She didn't return it, but ducked her gaze from his as she motioned him inside.

"I'm surprised to be greeted directly by you."

She was already turning away to guide him down the hallway to a parlor. "Yes, Adams was equally taken aback when I demanded I meet you in his stead. But here we are. None of us are acting ourselves of late."

He pressed his lips together and entered the room behind her. She stayed at the door as he passed and surprised him by pushing it shut.

He pivoted. "Marianne?—"

She held up a hand. "Don't worry yourself, Sebastian, I have no intention of doing anything to violate the terms of our earlier agreement to distance ourselves. But I heard something from my brother today that I had to address with you in person."

He shifted. "And what was that?"

"Finn says you shall not ride with us to Garringford Corners."

He smiled slightly at the name of the siblings' small estate just outside London and memories of all the happy times they'd spent there over the years. Marianne didn't return the expression, but remained singularly focused on the topic at hand. "Is that true?"

"I'm surprised he would say something about that, it's meaningless." A lie, but he continued, "I intend to ride behind later in the day. I won't arrive much after you two do."

"Exactly why he mentioned it, I assume, as it goes against our habit of how we normally travel to this yearly gathering," she said, folding her arms. The action lifted her breasts a little, a distraction he tried to ignore.

"I see," he said softly. "And what is your fear?"

"You pretend you don't know?" She moved forward but brought herself up short before she got too close. That was probably for the best because he wasn't certain he could meter his response at the moment. "You're acting out of character. Don't you fear he'll recognize that I'm the reason?"

"Does he notice you acting out of character?" he asked.

She caught her breath. "Of course he doesn't. He thinks any change in my behavior has only to do with Claudia's death. But I mean less to him than you do."

He drew back at that statement. "That isn't true. You must know that you mean the world to him."

"I'm a difficulty he must bear. A disappointment, I'm sure," she insisted, and for a moment all her pain was clear. Pain he wanted to ease with such a power that it was almost frightening. He pushed aside his baser desires and moved on her.

He caught both her hands and held them to his chest. "You could never be a disappointment, Marianne. Not to him, not to—" He cut himself off and released her. He ran a hand through his hair. "I've known your brother for more than half my life and he has never spoken of you with anything but love and affection. He adores you."

"And yet you don't think he'd notice any change to me. Nor to you."

"He has his own distractions," Sebastian said with a slight shake of his head as he thought of Finn's faraway expressions the past little while.

Now she straightened. "Finn? What do you mean? Is he well?"

"Yes," Sebastian said. "He won't speak to me about it in detail, but I can see it in his face. So I don't think you have to worry about your brother suddenly noticing that we don't want to stand near each other or that I might not travel with you because I worry that I'll—" Once again he cut himself off. It wasn't fair to say more when he had demanded they stop this madness between them. "Was that all you needed?"

She stared up at him and he couldn't help but notice all the lovely lines of her face. Strange that he hadn't ever been so taken in by them in years past and now all he could do was analyze every little twitch and movement of them.

"Yes." She shifted. "Except…"

He smiled slightly. " Except ?"

"Do you really not wish to stand near me?" she said. "Is that how far this has come?"

He sighed. "I'll gladly stand beside you, Marianne. Like you, I don't want what we shared to ruin our friendship. It means a great deal to me. I simply must be more careful until this…this desire fades."

She nodded. "Well, you know best when it comes to desire. If you say it will fade, then I believe you."

His hand fluttered at his side, and for a moment he almost let himself defy all their agreements and touch her. God, how he wanted to do just that. To touch her and then never stop touching her. Not until they both had their fill of pleasure.

But he had to be stronger than that. He stepped back instead. "It must. I'll see you at Garringford Corners in a few days. Good day, Marianne."

He pivoted on his heel and strode from the parlor, from her home. He could feel her watching him and when he mounted his horse he gave a quick glance over his shoulder to find her at the window, doing just that. As he rode away he drew a shuddering breath. There had to be a way to overcome this.

There just had to be.