Chapter 15

15

One week later…

A beam of sunlight fell through the window onto the paper in Sebastian’s hand that deemed Emma Sherbourne and Sir Jasper Bardsley’s marriage annulled. In the semidarkness of his study, where he was usually bored, signing papers and talking to his solicitor and his steward, he was excited for the first time in his life. His chest expanded as though there were a hot-air balloon inside of it being warmed up and about to soar.

He had Emma’s freedom in his hands.

His solicitor had just brought the annulment papers earlier today. Smart man, he’d managed to find the copy of the deed of sale for the lands mentioned in the contract, and he’d gotten a copy of the marriage contract from Sir Jasper’s solicitor in Bedfordshire. It was all correct and quite straightforward. There it was, the decision from the bishop, expedited thanks to the deceased Grandhampton having introduced Sebastian and the bishop a few days before he died.

Sebastian had spent the week following the tragedy with the Seatons, helping Preston and the family with the funeral arrangements and just being at their side. He ached for Emma as if she were a missing limb. As agreed, his carriage and the footmen had returned. They would stay in London until he got word that she was ready to come back. Seven days, and his very skin ached for her touch.

There was a knock at the door, and Standen came in, concern showing behind his perfectly cool and polite expression.

“What is it?” asked Sebastian.

“Sir Jasper Bardsley and Lady Bardsley have come to see you, Your Grace.”

Sebastian froze, the smile on his face dying. The hot-air balloon in his chest deflating. His stomach dropped. Lady Bardsley.

His Emma.

Not the Duchess of Loxchester.

Sir Jasper couldn’t have marked his territory more clearly.

“Please, show them in here,” said Sebastian, helplessly clenching and unclenching his shaking hands.

Standen nodded and left the study. Several excruciating moments later, the door opened again, and he let Emma in accompanied by a man. Sebastian recognized him at once, despite his clean gentleman’s clothing—he had the same smug, round face of the farmer selling her in Clovham. And now, triumph showed in his beady eyes.

Emma wasn’t wearing one of the dresses he’d had made for her anymore. She was probably dressed in the clothes she’d had in her home—a perfectly appropriate but rather modest dress that did nothing to complement her lovely coloring, her green eyes that were so beautiful he had a hard time breathing, nor the rich color of her shiny mahogany hair.

Sir Jasper Bardsley stood next to her, his arm touching hers in an intimate way that screamed to Sebastian who was her husband here. The sight completely wrenched his stomach apart.

Sebastian’s eyes met Emma’s, so aloof and distant, and his whole being went cold. Her face was a mask, as though she was devoid of any emotion. As though the days they had spent together…the nights—their talks, their lovemaking, their closeness—meant nothing to her.

He meant nothing.

“Your Grace,” said Sir Jasper with his nose held high, “my wife and I came to pay you a visit and thank you for the hospitality you showed to Lady Bardsley. Our marriage is repaired now, and I’ll relieve you of her presence. She won’t be a burden to you anymore. And I’ll be keeping your money, sir.”

A burden? Emma? She was the opposite of that. She was his treasure, the light in his life of gloom and obligation. Sebastian wanted to punch the man. But he couldn’t allow himself to glance away from Emma. He didn’t even care about the money.

“Emma, what happened?” he asked, forcing his voice to not shake. He picked up the most precious paper in the world and held it out to her. “I have the annulment of your marriage. All you need to do is sign.”

Her mouth opened, the inner edges of her eyebrows rising. She blinked, her eyes watering, staring at the annulment papers that could be her salvation.

Finally, she swallowed hard. “I won’t need them.”

It felt as if someone had punched Sebastian right in the solar plexus. All air left his lungs.

Emma, looking like she was being dragged to a death sentence, said, “I choose Sir Jasper. Not you.”

His heart broke and cracked and grew dead inside, calcifying like an oyster at the bottom of the sea. He had never felt such pain in his entire life. No one had the power to hurt him as she could.

He had known this would happen. That the happiness they’d had together was nothing but an illusion. It wasn’t for him. His way was the way of loneliness and unhappiness, just like his parents’. The mask he’d worn his whole life prior to her hardened the muscles of his face, turning the edges of his mouth downward, setting a crease and painful tension between his eyebrows. His shoulders hurt. It seemed as though the whole world went dim, the sun disappearing behind the curtain and the study falling into semidarkness.

He laid the papers on his desk and nodded. “I never loved you anyway. You were always just a game.”

Was it his imagination, or did something break in her eyes?

“I will destroy the papers. Goodbye, Lady Bardsley. And be well.”

He turned, forever closing himself away from her and breathing hard, trying keep the pieces of his broken heart together.

Only what for, if the happiness that had been at his fingertips had disappeared forever?