Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

W hen Marianne and Delacourt arrived at his home for a drink before they all left for a ball, Sebastian could see that Marianne was distracted. Thankfully, she had not worn another unflattering black gown, but she still had a band of black around her upper arm, rather like one would see a man wear after a loss.

If he hadn't known his friend so well, he might have simply dismissed her unease as a reaction to Lady Claudia's death and left it at that. But he did know Marianne and he was certain that there was more to the way her gaze went distant and her attempts to add to the conversation were so few. More strangely, he actually found himself curious about the cause of her distress. An odd and unexpected sensation, indeed, for a man who always did his level best to stay out of anything that required emotion or a deeper connection.

"Tonight's fete at Lady Simpson's should be a laugh, don't you think?" he asked, keeping his eye on Marianne for her reaction.

She only blinked, her expression still distant, but her brother answered instead.

"Why a laugh? I've always found her gatherings to be so boring." Delacourt shuddered. "If her husband was not an important member of parliament, I doubt anyone would go and drink her watered-down spirits and listen to those horrible orchestras she has hired over the years. The woman must be completely unable to discern one note from another. Dear Lord, the last one practically picked their way through the waltz."

"And that is why it is a laugh, Delacourt," Sebastian chuckled. "Don't you think, Marianne?"

She shook her head and turned toward him. She was pale and for the first time he noted just the faintest of shadows beneath her eyes. Yes, something was definitely troubling her.

"I'm sorry, I was woolgathering. What are we discussing?" she asked with a deep blush.

Sebastian arched a playful brow. "The fact that the disastrous qualities of poor Lady Simpson's balls are the reason they are so entertaining. Would you not agree?"

For the first time that night, Marianne smiled. It was a faint shadow of her usual expression, but it was there and a swell of pride filled Sebastian. "I do agree."

"You two are clearly troubled if you think standing through her wretched gatherings is an entertainment," Delacourt said as he set his empty drink aside with a shake of his head. "Come, let's go to the carriage."

Sebastian offered Marianne an arm before her brother could, and though Delacourt's posture stiffened, he said nothing as he led them from the room to the waiting vehicle. They would travel together, but Sebastian's own driver would follow shortly so that he could leave when…and with whom…he desired.

He helped Marianne into the rig and after they were all settled and the carriage began to roll the short distance to Lord and Lady Simpson's residence, he tilted his head. "Your brother may not share our amusement at the massive failure of poor Lady Simpson's gatherings, but perhaps if we made it into a game that would change his mind."

Delacourt looked at him with suspicion. "A game?"

Marianne was also staring across the expanse between them, but her eyes had gone a bit wider with interest. "Yes, Sebastian, what kind of game could we possibly play?"

He lifted a finger to his lips. "Each time Lady Simpson introduces two people who despise each other, we must tilt our glasses in salute. And when she boasts too loudly about the cost of the gathering, we must take a sip."

Marianne laughed. "Oh, I like this. What about when the orchestra plays poorly? Or goes off time and makes the dancers nearly crash headlong into each other?"

"A drink full-on, my dear," Sebastian laughed. "What else would it be?"

The carriage pulled to a stop and Delacourt let out a very put-upon and rather theatrical sigh. "You are both a menace to Society at large. I refuse to participate in these childish diversions. If you two wish to make a spectacle of yourselves, then leave me out of it."

Marianne turned to look out the window away from her brother, but Sebastian caught her expression before shadow overtook her features. His words seemed to make her highly uncomfortable, even though he didn't think Delacourt meant them harshly.

He kept his gaze on her as he said, "Great God, Delacourt, you are a bore. He only does this because of you, Marianne."

She turned back toward them with a gasp, but it turned to a smile as she took his meaning. "Ah, you mean because Finn thinks I am a delicate flower who must be protected at all costs from anything daring or, Lord preserve us, fun ."

Delacourt rolled his eyes, but Sebastian could see he was trying not to smile. Although his friend tended to be serious and dry at these events, he would wager Delacourt actually enjoyed his shenanigans. Otherwise, they couldn't have remained friends for so long. "Again, I fail to see how this…punch-drinking game of yours will be fun."

Sebastian let out a long and put-upon sigh. " Fine , if you are determined to play the staid lord of the manor, then you are no longer invited to take part in the game. Marianne and I shall play without you, won't we, my lady?"

For a moment her face paled, and when she finally answered him, her mouth was firm in a line of determination rather than amusement. "Yes," she said with far more passion than the subject demanded.

If Delacourt noticed her change in demeanor, he didn't acknowledge it, just threw the carriage door open with an exaggerated groan of disapproval and stepped out. As he helped Marianne out and the two moved out of the way so that Sebastian could come outside, he couldn't help but stare at Marianne. She had always been a friend in his eyes, but never had he been so interested in her motives. But there was something going on with her and he was going to find out what that something was.

One way or another.

M arianne stood on the veranda overlooking a pretty garden below. She clung to the edge of the stone with both hands as the world tilted precariously about her and tried not to pitch headfirst into the bushes down below.

"There you are."

Marianne sucked in a long breath of fresh, cool air and then slowly turned to find Sebastian standing at the doors of the veranda. It boded poorly for her that he had two drinks in his hands.

"You missed three ladies tumbling into each other in a spectacular crash on the dance floor thanks to the orchestra changing its tune right in the middle of one of the country jigs." Sebastian moved closer and handed her a glass. "So this is for you."

Marianne took the glass and swallowed hard as she stared at the liquid within. But she had made a promise and all she could do was take a large sip. As it made its way down her throat, she made a face.

"I am not feeling quite right," she admitted. Her voice seemed far away in her ears.

Sebastian looked at her for a moment and then reached out to take her elbow. "Well, the party was a stunning success for our game, though not for Lady Simpson."

He smiled and Marianne found herself staring at his mouth. It was such a nice mouth. Such a beautiful, kissable mouth.

Sebastian, apparently oblivious to her shocking thoughts, moved her toward some benches farther back in the shadow of the terrace. "Dear Lord, you're drunk, aren't you?"

Marianne blinked. "Am I? Is this what being drunk feels like?"

Sebastian chuckled low in the dark and the sound of it sent a tingle down Marianne's spine that she had never experienced before. "Is the world spinning?"

Marianne nodded and the movement proved Sebastian's point exactly. "Yes."

"Do you feel out of control? Foggy?"

"Most definitely," she said.

"And you're slurring your words slightly," he mused, though it seemed like he was saying it more to himself than to her.

"I am not," Marianne protested, indignation rising up in her. "I sh-sound perfectly fine."

"Yes, I believe you are at least a bit tipsy," Sebastian laughed again. "I should apologize. I wasn't thinking that this would be the outcome when I proposed our game, but between the fact that you rarely drink and that Lady Simpson made some particularly gruesome faux pas tonight, it might not have been the best time to play."

Marianne nodded, but the movement only made her head spin again. "Drunk. Well, that's nice. I can cross that off the list."

Sebastian looked at her in confusion. "List?"

Marianne stared up at him. The moon cast the only light in this dark corner and it partially illuminated his face in a most interesting way. What was he asking about? The list? But he didn't know about the list. No one knew.

But he could help her. Lord knew he had experience in some shocking things. He was the perfect person to assist her with a few of the items Claudia had wanted to do before her death.

"Do you think you could teach me some naughty words?" Marianne asked.

Sebastian had taken another sip of his drink and he began to choke on it. He drew out a handkerchief and coughed into it for a moment before he gathered his composure.

"Naughty words?" he repeated in blank disbelief.

Marianne nodded. "Yes. I'd like to know how to ush…use them. Like…" She searched the foggy annals of her mind for words she had heard men on the street use, or her brother if he thought she wasn't nearby. "Like bollocks and doxy and?—"

Before she could say more, Sebastian reached out and covered her hand with his. It felt so warm and heavy. Comforting. Why was her body tingling?

"Yes, yes," he said. "I-I understand. But why—" He cut himself off with a laugh and a shake of his head. "Actually, I'm not certain you're in much condition to even know why you would want to know such things. But I shall come by to see you tomorrow and we can discuss it in private when your mind is clearer."

"My mind," Marianne hiccupped, "is perfectly clear."

Sebastian stared at her a moment and then he reached up and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. It was a delicate gesture and Marianne's heart began to pound at it.

"Of course it is," he said softly. Then he shook his head. "Now we shall find your brother. I'll tell him that you have a headache and need to go home. If you remain quiet, there is no reason he needs know that you are at least somewhat in your cups, do you understand?"

Marianne smiled. Good, so she would know the naughty words. That would be two items off her list in just a day's time. Excellent.

"Marianne?" he repeated. "Do you understand?"

She nodded. "Yes, Shebas…Sebastian. Of course. I shall be quiet as a church moushe. I've had plenty of practice at that."

Sebastian looked at her. Even in her fog, even in the dim light, she saw the troubled expression on his face, and the surprise in his eyes when she said that. Then he nodded.

"Yes, I suppose you have." Then the trouble was gone and he smiled as he got to his feet and offered her an arm. "Come, my lady. I shall make certain you arrive home safely."

Marianne took his offering and leaned on him slightly as he maneuvered her toward the door. "Thank you. And don't forget, you promised me. You promised you would help me."

"Yes. I did. And I keep my promises."