“She should stay,” Sebastian said. “I have news she will want to hear. But first—I’m sorry, Cecil. No one regrets Giles’s death more than I do.”
“Don’t,” the older man choked out. “I come home to find my son dead and already buried. And you—”
“It was an accident,” Sebastian cut in. “You can’t really think I meant to kill him? I went there to fire into the air. If he was angry enough to kill me, so be it. But his bullet nicked my arm, lowering it just as I fired. Good God, did no one ever tell you what happened there?”
“Does that bring him back?” Cecil demanded. “He was my only son!”
For such an emotional statement, Sebastian would have expected to see more than just anger in Cecil’s eyes. But nothing else could have brought the pain back so strongly for him than those particular words. His own heart ripped open, “He was my best friend! How many times do I have to die because of that slut he married?”
“Please!” the duchess begged again.
She was right, they were drawing notice. And it had been a long time since Sebastian had lost control like that, to let his pain be so obvious. By sheer force of will, he put it back where it belonged, behind the iron shield that encased his emotions.
He wanted to walk away, but there was one thing left to say on the matter, to appease his own curiosity. “Why have you blamed my father?”
He didn’t think Cecil would answer. His face was growing red with anger again.
But in a low, baleful tone Cecil said, “I went away to mourn. I couldn’t bear being in the house where Giles was raised. I come home months later and find that French whore who caused your duel married to your brother. Douglas should have prevented that. He should have prevented the duel.”
“What more could he have done than forbid it, which he did?” Sebastian replied. “I defied him. I went there to die myself, Cecil. I didn’t expect to have to come home and tell him that a quirk of fate reversed the outcome.”
“Douglas could have told me that, instead of telling me to get out and never come back! You have been misinformed. I didn’t end our friendship, he did.”
Sebastian was so surprised by that, he almost forgot he wanted to tell them something else. They had both turned to walk away, eager to end the confrontation. He almost stopped them but decided not to upset Cecil anymore. What he had to say to the duchess could be said in private.
It took him a few minutes to catch her eye and indicate that he wanted to talk with her. It took her a good ten minutes more to come up with an excuse to get away from Cecil. Margaret had rejoined him by then, but the duchess didn’t approach him. She left the room instead. He made his own excuses, leaving the parlor as well, and noticed her entering the empty ballroom at the back of the house.
The large room was quite dark, as the candles in it weren’t lit. The woman grasped his arm as soon as he entered.
“This will be brief, yes?” she asked. “Cecil has been upset enough this evening. I do not wish him to know we are speaking.”
He could barely make out her silhouette, though his eyes were adjusting quickly. “Does he know you already have a husband?”
“He knows I had a husband, yes. But that was many years ago.”
“Well, the husband you had is currently looking for you. He wants a divorce—or your demise. Your guess is as good as mine which he would prefer.”
“No!” she gasped. “This is impossible. Too many years have passed. He would have had to set our marriage aside. He would have needed an heir.”
“Do I understand you correctly? You were going to marry Cecil on the mere assumption that your previous husband would have made you free to do so?”
“Why are you telling me this nonsense?” she demanded. “I assure you, his position would have demanded he marry again in order to sire an heir.”
Sebastian shrugged, though it was doubtful she could see it in the dark. “Apparently he was in no hurry to do so. Now that he is, his bride-to-be wants absolute proof that his first marriage is ended. My guess is that she won’t settle for any divorce that he could arrange. She wants to see for herself that you agree to it. She doesn’t want you showing up later, thereby making any heirs she gives him illegitimate.”
“I am truly still married?” she said in a small, incredulous voice.
“Not just that, madame. He is hiring people to find you and bring you back to Austria. He knows your path led to this country. It wasn’t very wise of you to remain here, or to keep your name.”
“I changed my name.”
“You should have dropped the title, too.”
She was silent for a moment, then said tiredly, “Vanity, yes, that was unwise. But I didn’t stay here. I have been living most of these years abroad, always traveling. I am sick to death of traveling. I was enchanted with this country when I passed through it. I yearned often to come back here to settle. I finally gave in to that yearning.”
“Bad timing, then, since this is where he’ll be looking for you.”
She started to cry. Sebastian couldn’t help but feel sympathy for the fugitive duchess. “I would suggest you tell Cecil the problem. He will know who to see to arrange a quick divorce for you. Get those papers sent with all swiftness to your husband the duke. That should satisfy him.”
“How did you come to know about this?”
“He tried to hire me to find you.” The Raven grinned menacingly. “I didn’t particularly like his way of asking.”
Chapter 45
S HOULD I BE JEALOUS?” Margaret asked when Sebastian joined her in the parlor again.
“What the deuce for? Ah,” he said, following her gaze.
She was watching the duchess of Felburg reenter the room just moments after he did. Not that she sounded the least bit jealous. There was merely curiosity in her tone.
“I needed to speak to the lady about some old unfinished business,” he explained. “My good deed for the—century, as it were.”
“The century, eh? Good deed opportunities show up so infrequently for you?”
“No.”
Her lips twisted sourly. He felt an urge to hug her. Margaret wasn’t very good at teasing. Lord love her, she tried, but she tended to leave herself wide open for broadsides that she didn’t know how to parry. Of course, she probably fared better with others in the matter of teasing. She’d just never come up against someone with his odd sense of humor, or lack thereof.
He was going to miss her. It struck him poignantly that it was the first time he’d felt that way about anyone other than his own family or Giles. The bluestocking had grown on him. He’d gotten used to her hard-nosed candor, her incessant chatter, her forthright way of looking at things. She was quite the gem, Maggie was, so unexpected after their first meeting when she’d walked all over him with her indomitable determination to help someone she cared about.
He actually admired that in her and had from the start, though he’d been too annoyed with her to admit it. And good God, the attraction between them was killing him. He never should have agreed to delay his departure in order to attend this party with her. It had been pure hell staying away from Maggie for most of the day when he’d wanted to spend every last hour of his remaining time in England with her in his arms.
The simple fact was, he had nothing to offer Margaret. That he had even come to that realization amazed him, since it put her into a category that he’d never put any other woman—the desire to keep her. But Margaret needed stability, a man she could depend on, a man who would always be there for her—a man like he used to be.
“Oh my.”
Sebastian followed Margaret’s gaze to the door. He went very still. Douglas and Abigail had walked in, arm in arm. Margaret groaned. Abbie might not be on speaking terms with her son, but with Denton in London, the old girl would make an exception and enlist her son to escort her to a party in honor of her grandson’s marriage.
Having done his duty, Douglas patted his mother’s hand, and Abigail moved to
the first group of acquaintances she recognized, while Douglas moved straight toward Sebastian and Margaret. Quite a few people stopped him along the way, determined to speak with him, either to offer congratulations on the new member of his family, or to ask after his health.
“Bloody hell,” Sebastian swore.
“Buck up,” Margaret said in her staunchest tone. “You can withstand this.”
He glanced down at her and shook his head. “You don’t understand, Maggie. We’ve committed the worst sort of manipulation. My father is tossing his convictions out the door—based on a lie we perpetrated. When I agreed to this farce, I expected only grudging compliance from him, and only for your sake. I had no idea how much he wants you to be part of his family, so much so that he’d actually forgive me. It’s not just that I can’t do that to him. I can’t bloody well stomach his acceptance of me for a reason that isn’t even real.”
“You don’t know yet that he’s tossed out anything. For appearance’s sake, of course he must play the role of the proud father, just as you’ve been playing the role of the redeemed son.”
“Don’t count on it.”
“Then you should leave now, right now,” Margaret urged. “I’ll think of some—”
Too late. Douglas had reached them, and after hugging Margaret, he said, “I can’t believe that neither of you mentioned your marriage to me when we last spoke. Did you think I couldn’t withstand the shock while I was still recovering?”
He was smiling. Worse, his smile seemed to be genuine. There was warmth in his amber eyes. This was the man Sebastian remembered, the father he’d had—before the duel.
“We need to talk,” Sebastian replied in a clipped, hard tone.
“Certainly,” Douglas agreed.
“In private,” Sebastian added.
Margaret sighed quite loudly at that. Douglas was now frowning but said, “Alberta’s study is off of her library. I’ll let her know we need to use it and I’ll meet you there.”
“I’ll join you,” Margaret began as soon as Douglas moved off to speak with the dowager duchess.
“No, you won’t,” Sebastian cut in. “Stay here.”
He left her before she could summon up her determination and insist. The study was easy enough to find, a small utilitarian room for conducting business, lacking the frills one might expect a duchess to favor.
Douglas entered a few moments later, closed the door behind him. His expression was shuttered now.
He began, “I suppose this is overdue.”
“No,” Sebastian said, “not overdue, just necessary. Before you say anything you might regret, you need to know that Maggie and I aren’t really married.”
Douglas stiffened. “What nonsense is this? You haven’t consummated the marriage yet? I happen to know you shared the same room—”
“I’m afraid you misunderstand,” Sebastian interrupted. “Not married as in we never got married to begin with. It was a ruse.”
“This is nothing to joke about, Sebastian.”
“I agree. I told you she hired me. I told you why. The pretense of a marriage was to assist me in my investigation. I couldn’t very well do as she wanted if the door to Edgewood was still barred to me.”
Douglas was quite red cheeked by now. “Good God, I can’t believe that a son of mine—”
“I’m the dead son, remember?”
“What the devil are you talking about? You ruin that girl and for such a flimsy reason?”
“The reason was sound at the time. We didn’t expect you to have another accident, or to become so seriously ill with a fever that could very well have killed you. If you had been fit and hale, you would have kicked me out of the house without the least bit of discussion—just as you did eleven years ago!”
Sebastian turned away. The shield on his emotions was cracking. He had to fight to repair it. He’d had excuses eleven years ago that never got said, that Giles’s death had been an accident. He wasn’t going to make excuses for this.
“She will announce a divorce not long after I’m gone,” Sebastian said. “My desertion will gain her sympathy and understanding.”
“You’re leaving?”
Was that surprise in his father’s tone? He glanced at Douglas again, but his expression hadn’t changed. He was probably furious over the deception and bitterly disappointed that Margaret was not truly his daughter-in-law.
“Of course I’m leaving. I never wanted to come here in the first place.”
“Then you will marry her first. Or will you stand there and try to tell me you never touched her?”
“No, I can’t tell you that.”
Even more angry color shot up into Douglas’s cheeks. “Then by God you will marry her.”
“For what? So you can claim her as a daughter-in-law until she institutes a real divorce?”
“Because it’s the right thing to do,” Douglas said, glaring at him.
Chapter 46
M ARGARET TOOK PART in several conversations of which she couldn’t remember a single word. Sebastian hadn’t returned yet from his private talk with Douglas. What was taking them so long?
She should have insisted on joining them. The marriage idea had been hers, after all. She would have explained it all to Douglas herself, after Sebastian was gone. She would have had to, when she announced the divorce. She wished she could do so now in order to alleviate some of the backlash Sebastian was no doubt receiving from his father.
She had a feeling Sebastian wouldn’t mention that the pretense had been her idea. She even had a feeling why. He seemed to want Douglas’s anger directed at him. It was what he had expected all along, so keeping it that way prevented him from finding out if they really could reconcile. Perhaps Sebastian was so certain his father would never forgive him that he couldn’t help but be defensive and resentful. Actually, it could be that he wouldn’t forgive his father. Good God, she hadn’t considered that. It would certainly explain why he had refused ever to return to England.
She was fretting herself sick on what was happening in the study. She didn’t doubt she looked it, too, so she sought out Alberta to let her know they would be leaving as soon as Sebastian returned. The duchess claimed to understand and even commiserated with her.
“Happens to all you young gels,” Alberta told her. “You let the nerves get the better of you. Why, I’ve had some of them faint, before and after the party I’ve given for them.” And with a stern eye, Alberta demanded, “You aren’t going to faint, are you?”
Margaret managed not to laugh. “I have an aversion to lying on floors, so I will most certainly restrain m’self. But I am feeling rather peaked, so I’m going to seek my own bed. I just wanted to thank you for the lovely party and to warn you that once Sebastian sees that I’m not feeling well, he’s likely to drag me straight home. He’s like that, you know.”
“Is he?” Alberta chuckled. “Well, some men do overreact when they’re concerned. Don’t give it another thought, m’dear. I confess that even I was a tad nervous about tonight, but it went splendidly, if I do say so m’self. Well, I need to rephrase that,” she added with a glower as she faced the door. “It was going splendidly.”
Margaret didn’t have to turn around to know what Alberta was talking about. She winced, hearing Juliette’s raised voice behind her. When she’d spoken with Abigail about a half hour ago, she’d learned that Denton and his wife had planned to attend the party, but must have been delayed in their return from London.
Alberta tsked in high annoyance, admitting, “I’ve asked that gel to stay out of my house. Even if I wasn’t obliged to invite the Townshends, I would have anyway because I adore Abigail. But Denton’s wife is not welcome here. I told her so as politely as I could, and when that didn’t work, I confess I was quite rude about it. Other hostesses in the area have experienced the same predicament with that gel. I swear her understanding of the English language is selective. She still comes and still disrupts.”
Margaret was surprised to
hear that Juliette had become a social pariah. No one wanted to shun the Townshends, but everyone seemed to disapprove of Juliette and her appalling behavior. Denton had probably been beseeched to control his wife, but Denton had no control over her. Juliette seemed to control him.
Seeing the duchess so indignant when she was renowned for maintaining a social demeanor that never got ruffled amused Margaret.
“At least she keeps the gossips busy for a while,” Margaret said, trying to appear sympathetic.
“Which is quite the point. People should be talking about my parties, not the scandalous behavior of one of the guests, an uninvited guest, I might add. Now that you are a member of that family, I hope you can break through the language barrier and convince her to keep her outrageous antics at home where they belong.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Margaret promised.
“Good.” Alberta huffed and with a scowl in Juliette’s direction, marched off to find some consolation from her cronies.
Ordinarily, Margaret would join Juliette and try to calm her down, but Juliette hadn’t spoken to her since she’d learned of Margaret’s marriage. If the one glare she’d intercepted hadn’t been enough to warn her that their so-called friendship was over because of it, Juliette’s loud complaints across the room certainly did.
“The traitor marries him and gets honored. Why was I not honored when I married you, eh?”
Denton didn’t appear to be embarrassed. He was too used to being the center of attention at parties because of his very vocal wife. But Abigail looked flustered. Juliette was loud enough that even Abigail, with her poor hearing, had caught every word.
So Juliette, considered her a traitor? That was amusing, Margaret thought. Before Juliette could offer even more insults and disrupt the party further, she decided to leave the room and find out what was keeping Sebastian.
She wouldn’t be surprised if he’d already left without her, especially if Douglas had demanded that he truly marry her.