Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

T he next morning, Marianne stared at her reflection in the mirror as Hannah stood behind her fixing her hair. She felt she ought to look different after her passionate night in Sebastian's arms, but somehow she was still just…her. He hadn't made her different, at least not where anyone could see.

She forced a smile at her maid. "I do want to apologize, Hannah, for waking you so late last night. I cannot believe I fell asleep fully dressed."

"Of course not, my lady! It's my duty, I'm pleased to do it." She pinned a few more locks of Marianne's hair into place and then said, "I didn't want to ask you last night, as I could see you were tired, but did Lord Ramsbury ever find you?"

Marianne tensed at the mention of the very man she'd been daydreaming about a moment before. "L-Lord Ramsbury? What do you mean? I haven't been out of my chamber today. Was he looking for me this morning?"

"Oh no, my lady. Not today. I meant last night."

Marianne shook her head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"The earl found me in the hall as I was going back to servants' quarters after the gathering broke up. He asked where you were as he had looked for you in the library and didn't find you there in your usual spot. I said I thought you might have gone to read in your room. He did tell me that whatever he had to say to you could wait until tomorrow, but then I saw him going toward your chamber." Hannah stepped back to admire her handiwork. "There you are, my lady. And I must say you are positively glowing this morning. You really do look well in that blue."

"Thank you," Marianne said as an acknowledgment of the compliment, but her mind was racing. "Er, well, I'll look for him this morning and see if he still has something to discuss."

Her maid turned to go and after she had, Marianne leapt to her feet and began to pace the room. Why had Sebastian been looking for her last night after she'd snuck out to the hell with Lanford? And why hadn't he mentioned it after he'd found her there or in the time they'd spent together afterward?

"You're being silly," she assured herself as she moved across the room toward the bed where he had made love to her last night.

After all, just because he'd been seen coming toward her chamber didn't mean he'd actually gone there. He could have always intended to go to the hell, just as he'd told her last night, and speaking to her was only a quick stop on his way, easily forgotten when he thought she'd retired.

She frowned as she went to the dressing table by the window where she'd been sitting earlier. After Sebastian had gone last night, before she'd called for Hannah, she'd realized she left Claudia's list out in her haste to go to the hell. It had been left unfolded on the table before her, there for anyone to find, along with the notes she'd made about her progress.

Was it possible Sebastian had come into this room and actually found the list? Read it? Seen her notes, including the one about going to a hell with Lanford and that was why he had pursued her there?

Her hands began to sweat and she rubbed them on her skirt as she tried to meter her breath. She was likely being ridiculous to think those things. But if she wasn't…if he had found the list…

The very idea made her heart throb faster and her hands shake. She didn't want anyone to know what she was doing, but Sebastian least of all. The time they'd spent together recently, including last night, had meant so much to her. She didn't want it to be marred by whatever his thoughts were about the list. About her crossing things off of it.

"There is only one way to know," she said to herself. "Go find him and ask."

She turned toward the door, but she couldn't seem to make herself move forward. She felt frozen in place, anxiety washing through her in long, echoing waves. Seeing Sebastian after last night was going to be difficult enough. She'd already been planning how to pretend like she didn't know his taste, the feel of his skin, his expression when he lost all control.

But if it turned out he knew her secret, that was going to be even worse.

Somehow she forced her feet to move and exited the chamber. Whatever would happen, would happen. And she had to be brave enough to face it, just as she was trying to be brave enough to finish Claudia's list. She owed it to herself to find out the truth.

Even if it changed everything between her and Sebastian all over again.

S ebastian entered the breakfast room at far earlier an hour than he would normally do so, especially after a late night making love to a beautiful woman. But his chamber and bed had brought no sleep, only restless tossing and turning as he relived every one of Marianne's sighs. Every gentle reaction to secrets he'd never intended to spill out like poison from a wound.

But all those thoughts were pushed away as he realized the only other guest in attendance so early was Charles Lanford. He was sitting at the table, coffee in one hand, a newspaper in the other, though he was paying no attention to either. He jolted as he saw Sebastian and struggled to his feet. "Good-good morning, my lord," he said.

Sebastian pursed his lips. He had things to discuss with this man, but he wasn't sure he was in the right frame of mind to do so. The idea that Lanford had left Marianne exposed the night before conjured up far more rage than was healthy for either of them. And it could certainly reveal too much if he spewed it out now.

"Lanford," he growled as he moved to the sideboard to look at the spread.

The idea of food had no interest to him, so he poured tea instead and then joined the other man at the table. When he sat, so did his companion and the two stared at each other for what felt like a tense lifetime.

"Lady Marianne was unharmed after—after the unfortunate incident last night?" Lanford asked at last.

"Yes," Sebastian said, trying not to think of her terrified face as the man she'd been playing cards with had swung toward her in potent, drunken rage. "No thanks to you. What the hell were you thinking, taking her there and then exposing her to danger when you left her side?"

Lanford shook his head. "When I asked her to join me, I was only thinking of us having a good time together. I've been to that hell before, it's usually fairly calm. Tame as far as those places go."

"Tame for men with experience, not a sheltered lady like Marianne," Sebastian ground out.

Lanford nodded. "Yes. You are right, of course. And I knew it was a bit inappropriate, but she seemed so excited about the idea. She lit up like a candle when we discussed it at the gathering. It was impossible to resist her when she was like that."

Sebastian tensed. He knew exactly what Lanford meant. There was something magical about Marianne when she became excited about a topic. Like she was ignited from within, like she glowed. Like she could pull a man into her joy and he'd never feel pain again. The fact that Lanford had seen any portion of that glorious part of her made Sebastian's chest hurt. He knew what that feeling was. He didn't like it.

"So she seduced you, poor innocent thing," he drawled, hoping his tone didn't reveal his darker emotions on that subject.

"No," Lanford rubbed a hand through his hair. "Of course not, no. I only…I…I hoped that escorting her might allow me to get a bit closer to the lady."

That ugly jealousy doubled in an instant and Sebastian's hands began to tingle. He shook them out at his sides. "You have an interest in Lady Marianne?"

"I-I did," Lanford admitted, his head bending as if he were almost ashamed. "I hadn't given her a thought until that night at the Brighthollow ball. But it was impossible not to once the room seemed to turn to her. I approached her there, and I actually found her to be charming. Ultimately, I began to think it would be a good match for us both. She would be removed from the shelf, after all. She must want that after she's been so long overlooked. How could she say no?"

Sebastian gripped his hands in front of him. "That is a romantic judgment of the lady."

"Oh, but I don't think I wouldn't benefit, as well." Lanford said. "I know I would move up in the world through her family connections. Her dowry."

Sebastian turned his head at that rote recitation of entirely normal, but infuriating reasons that a man would want Marianne. Not for her sweetness or her intelligence or her bravery, but for her associations, or more to the point, the associations of her powerful brother. That this man would think the mere act of removing her from the shelf would be something she ought to appreciate.

"I'm certain her brother would not be pleased at your method of courtship," Sebastian managed through clenched teeth. "At any rate, by the time I arrived and came to her aid you had abandoned her side to flirt with other ladies. How does that fit into your supposed desire to court her?"

Lanford shifted, his cheeks darkening to deeper red. "Well, when we were riding over to the hell in my carriage…she…"

There was something about the way Lanford was clenching his hands nervously and hemming and hawing that made Sebastian want to put a fist through his nose.

"What is it, man?" he snapped. "Spit it out."

"She only talked about…about you," Lanford finished.

Sebastian stared at him as the weight of each of those words hit him full in the chest. "I beg your pardon?"

"Any subject I brought up, she turned it toward you. When I asked about her brother's estate, she told me at least three tales of growing up there and spending time with you. When I inquired about her pursuits, she mentioned she was embroidering handkerchiefs for Christmas for you and for her brother." Lanford shook his head. "Even when I inquired about what she was currently reading, she said she was reading a gothic novel she borrowed from you because you thought she would enjoy it. She couldn't wait to speak to you about it when she was finished."

Sebastian felt like each word spoken was a dagger to his pounding heart. "I see," he managed to choke out. "So you don't like her friendship with me."

Lanford arched a brow and looked at Sebastian like he was a simpleton to put it in those terms. "Your friendship? I suppose I wouldn't like it if my potential wife was friends with such a known rake, no. But that isn't it. No, it was entirely clear, by the time we reached the hell, that Lady Marianne had no interest in my pursuit, not when her head was filled with thoughts of you. No matter how out of reach you are to a woman like her, she clearly considers you her ideal. I couldn't compete."

The room shifted around Sebastian and Lanford's words sounded like they were coming from under water. He was meant to respond now, though how to do so felt muddy with the knowledge he was being given.

The understanding it left him with.

"And so—" He cleared his suddenly thick throat. "And so you chose to abandon her to danger because it was clear she had no interest in you. How gentlemanly."

"I was distracted, I admit, and that was wrong." Lanford let out his breath in a long sigh. "I've no intention of ever spreading any stories, you know. Not about her. If that's your worry."

"I think it would be best if no one ever heard about what happened. For both your sakes. And mine, I suppose."

Lanford gave him an appraising look. "You're protective of her."

Sebastian pursed his lips. It should have been easy to brush off the statement. To dismiss it and her as meaningless beyond a long friendship. But he found he couldn't. The words wouldn't come anymore.

"I am," he finally said, and nothing else.

Lanford opened his mouth as if to say more, but before he could, Marianne strode into the breakfast room, hands clenched at her sides. "Sebastian, one of the maids said that you were—" She cut herself off and stopped short at the chamber door. "Oh, Mr. Lanford. I didn't…I didn't realize you were here."

Lanford and Sebastian both rose and Lanford gave a small bow. "Good morning, Lady Marianne. I am beyond pleased to see you unharmed after I was so remiss in my behavior last night."

She swallowed hard and looked from Lanford to Sebastian and back again. Sebastian could see she was nervous, her cheeks flushed as she brushed her palms along the skirt of her dress. He couldn't help but think of touching her thighs last night. Of the catch in her breath when he'd done so.

"I'm well, thank you for your concern," she said with a quick smile of comfort for the man. "If you've been torturing yourself about my experience, I free you from that worry. My evening was more than pleasant—" Her gaze darted to Sebastian again. "Aside from that one little nastiness at the card table." She stepped closer and extended a hand to Lanford. "May we still be friends, Mr. Lanford?"

Lanford hesitated but a moment before he came around the table to take her offered hand in both of his. There was an intimacy to that. Marianne held his gaze as he said, "Have I earned a continuing friendship with you, my lady, I'm greatly appreciative of that fact. Now I shall excuse myself and continue with my day, as it seems you had something to discuss with Lord Ramsbury."

He released Marianne and went to the chamber door where he cast one last glance toward Sebastian and then left the room. Left Sebastian alone with her.

"Good morning," he said softly.

Her cheeks darkened further. "Good morning."

"You look lovely."

She worried her hands in front of her. "I kept stealing glances at myself while Hannah was readying me and expected to look different…after."

"You do look different," he said as he moved to the sideboard. "May I get you tea?"

"No, thank you." She tilted her head. "How do I look different?"

He turned and leaned on the edge of the wooden table, allowing himself to drink in the look of her at his leisure. "You glow."

"Funny, that's what Hannah said, as well." She covered her now pink cheeks with both hands and he smiled despite his tangled thoughts and feelings about everything that had transpired in the last twenty-four hours.

"Well, I swear the reason why will remain a secret between us," he said. "On the subject of secrets, it seems Mr. Lanford will also keep his. He has no intention of speaking to anyone about your misadventures in the hell last night."

"Good." He could see her relax with that statement. "Very good. There's no reason for what happened to become common knowledge. It wouldn't reflect well on any party."

"No," he agreed, and stepped toward her. How he wanted to take her hand as Lanford had. Only if he did, he feared he would duck his head and kiss her. And then he'd want to do more than kiss her. Right here in the damned breakfast room. He cleared his throat.

"Were you looking for me for some other reason?" he asked.

She nodded and her expression changed, became more guarded. He found he didn't like even that small wall coming down between them, despite it being for the best. "Yes. Er, Hannah said you were trying to find me last night."

He swallowed. He'd all but forgotten that he had encountered Marianne's maid in the hall. Of course she would report back his actions to her. Ones he had lied about the previous night because he didn't want her to know he'd found her list.

"I was," he said carefully. "After the party broke up, I wanted to talk to you about Lanford."

"About Lanford?" she asked, her brow wrinkling. "Why would you wish to speak to me about him?"

"He's interested in you," he said, trying to keep his tone as mild as possible. "I guessed it yesterday—he confirmed it during our conversation this morning."

She sucked in a breath and her spine straightened. What felt like a dozen emotions passed over her countenance in that moment: surprise and disbelief, confusion and dismay. But two stood out the most to him. She appeared angry and she appeared interested.

"I thought you were only going to make sure that Mr. Lanford didn't discuss last night's unfortunate situation, not break bread with him and talk about something so private."

"His interest in you is private , is it?"

She shrugged. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"Considering what you and I did last night?" he asked.

Her eyes widened. "One has nothing to do with the other. How did that subject come up? Please tell me you weren't trying to barter away your pathetic friend to some other man, out of some fear I'll ask you for more than you've given."

"Of course not," he said, pushing off the sideboard and crossing toward her. "That wasn't it at all. But I can't believe you aren't dismissing his interest out of hand. Charles Lanford ?"

She pursed her lips. "Should I dismiss it because I am so beneath him or he beneath me?"

Sebastian shook his head. This was coming out all wrong and he hated it. Hated that she was now staring at him with arms folded like a shield. Hated that she hadn't laughed off the attentions of some other man, even if Sebastian had done nothing to earn that. Hated that he could feel her anger directed at him with the same intensity with which she had bathed him in her passion the night before.

"You are certainly not beneath him," he said.

"Some would beg to differ. I am a spinster many seasons on the shelf. Yes, I have money and connection, but that's tempted no one in all the years I've been out. Do I need to remind you of my disastrous debut?"

"No."

She shook her head. "No, let me. Because you think you understand but you don't. My mother's death kept me from coming out for half a season, but that's not why I was shunned. She had a breakdown before her death."

"I know that, Marianne," he said, stepping toward her, hand outreached so that he could comfort her.

To his surprise she backed away. "No, you don't. No one knows. No one knows what I saw, what I endured. Not even my brother."

"Then tell me," he whispered, wanting to know her at such a deep place that he hadn't even realized it existed. "I hope you can trust me as much as I trusted you with a past kept in the shadows for far too long."

She shut her eyes and drew a shaky breath. Her pain was so clear, so powerful that it felt like a knife across this throat. "My mother…it was an arranged marriage like so many others. But she loved him. Or…perhaps it wasn't love at all. She tended to become obsessed with things, people, entirely focused on every part of them, needing them to be as tied to her. There was no one she felt that way about more than my father."

Sebastian flinched. "Not a good pick, I fear. I know he wasn't a kind man."

"No. And he loved to bounce her around on his wicked string. It was a game to him. It broke her down over the years. Just before my coming out, she discovered he had been living in one of his homes out in the countryside with his mistress while he kept her away in London. He'd never been so bold. She became…frenetic in a way I'd never seen. She wrote letters, three or four a day. I saw a few of them before she sent them. They were almost nonsensical and begged him to return, begged and begged."

"Did he answer?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Never once. After ten days like that, she just…stopped eating and drinking. At first I thought it was best to leave her to her own devices, let her calm herself. But she didn't. Then I began to insist she take care of herself, tried to tempt her and help her. Only she became angry. She went out of control. I'd never seen her like that. She destroyed her own chamber, she slammed herself into furniture and she—" Marianne cut herself off and swallowed hard. "She lashed out at the servants and at me, physically."

"She struck you?" he breathed.

Tears sparkled in her eyes as Marianne nodded slowly. "I'd been trying to keep the worst from Finn, but I had to reach out to him then. He had just purchased that old house of his on St. James, so he'd been distracted. He rushed over at once when I sent for him, saw what was happening. We kept trying to calm her, sent for doctors, they even tried to force feed her, but to no avail. She withered. Withered away as if the possibility of that man's love was all her sustenance. And she died of a broken heart."

Sebastian's own heart broke for Marianne and he took her hand. She let him for a moment, clung to him like he could keep her upright. "Finn never told me," he breathed.

"He didn't know the part where she hit me, I knew it would only crush him more than he was crushed seeing her like that," she whispered. "I've carried that lonely burden every day since."

"I'm sorry I didn't know how terrible it was."

"It was even more terrible when the servants, who were loyal to my father after all, talked. The whispers of suicide and madness leaked out, even muted from the horrible reality. It was such a story, nothing the ton could possibly ignore. The wife of an earl in full collapse? That was just too good not to spread to every corner of Society. When I returned to the marriage mart after my mourning period, I was given side glances instead of being appraised for my potential as a match. Even when they forgot the foggy details, the damage was done. They might not recall fully why, but they know I'm not worth the time to pursue."

She had her chin lifted in strength but he could see the pain in her eyes. The heartbreak she had experienced and hidden. "Marianne," he whispered.

She pulled her hand away and kept on. "So if a gentleman of a certain quality and a reasonable handsomeness has finally expressed an interest in me, I'd be a fool not to at least consider his offer."

Sebastian's mouth dropped open. "You cannot mean that, Marianne."

She moved toward him now and her eyebrows knitted together. How many times had he watched her make that expression over the years. A little indication of her frustration. Again, he didn't like it directed at him. "Why would you care so much, Sebastian? You've made it clear that you cannot pursue a future with me even if you wished to, which you don't , because of your friendship with Finn."

He shook his head, trying to find an answer to her perfectly legitimate question. Why did he care? No, he wouldn't have chosen Lanford for her, even before the other man had exhibited such a lack of care for her. But certainly she had a right to have an interest in another man. In a life with someone who would grant her the chance to have more experiences. To have more freedoms. To have children and an increased standing with her peers.

Only he couldn't think of anyone he'd want to see in that role. The very idea of her arching her back beneath another man like she'd arched it beneath him, of her laughing with some other man at a breakfast table, of bringing her joys and excitements to him…it was an anathema.

He cleared his throat and forced the next words from his lips. "I suppose if you find yourself interested in Mr. Lanford, you are right that I shouldn't object. It isn't my place."

Her expression flickered with pain for a brief moment and then it was gone. "No. It isn't. Please excuse me, Sebastian, I think I forgot something in my chamber."

She pivoted then and walked from the room before he could respond. He turned away and pressed his hands onto the table before him, his breath coming short and harsh in the quiet of the room.

This wasn't how he'd wanted to interact with Marianne the morning after they made love. How he had wished to do so had been a foggy thing, but not this. Not facing her with tension, and not of the pleasant kind. Not her declaring that he should walk away and not take interest in the potential courtship of another man when her moans of his name still echoed in his ears.

"Fuck," he grunted.

"That isn't a good way to start the day," came a laughing voice behind him.

He turned to find Delacourt entering the room, and for a moment he tensed. But the smile on his friend's face seemed to indicate he'd heard nothing of Sebastian's exchange with Marianne. In fact, Delacourt looked lighter than he had in weeks before in London and Sebastian should have embraced that positive change. Instead, he had to force a smile.

"I don't suppose you have a suggestion on a better way then?" he asked.

"Some of the boys are going for a ride this morning. We'll do a bit of shooting before supper and the ball tonight. I've even arranged for a spread by the lake for tea."

Sebastian glanced toward the chamber door, as if he could call Marianne back to him if he concentrated hard enough. But then he nodded. "The air and companionship will do me good," he said. "But we must be sure to invite Mr. Lanford, as well."

Delacourt wrinkled his brow. "I wasn't aware you were so friendly with the man. I thought you didn't much care for him."

"Perhaps he'll grow on me."

"Very well, I'll be sure to have a personal invitation given to the man before I begin to ready myself for the outing. We depart in an hour."

Delacourt slapped Sebastian's bicep before he grabbed a pastry from the sideboard and exited the breakfast room. Sebastian sighed and moved to the window where he looked out at the garden behind the house. He jolted as he watched Marianne appear from the direction of the terrace stairs and walk through the bushes and plants.

It was good he'd have time away from her on this outing. Surely it would cool any residual feelings their night together had falsely created. And with Lanford within his sightline, he would also insure that Marianne didn't do anything foolish in her anger, either.

By the time of the ball that night, everything would be normal again. It had to be. There was no alternative.