Page 32 of A Sinful Viscount's Mistletoe Affair
George watched his friends deliberating and felt a pang of regret once more as his thoughts turned to Julian Ashcroft. The presence of his son under his roof seemed to be leading to memories of his father dominating George’s thoughts.
Their excitement at the beginning of the venture matched the excitement in this room now. And although the hotel trade seemed a far less risky prospect than sending a ship to the other side of the world in the hope of finding some rare and exotic products to sell, there were still dangers to the scheme.
“Gentlemen, do you think we should return to the ladies?” George said, interrupting the flow of conversation between Edmund and Thomas.
Edmund looked up at him in surprise. “Not yet, I don’t think,” he said firmly. “We have much more to discuss, and I, for one, find this rather a more interesting topic of conversation than whatever gossip our wives and daughters may be indulging in at this moment.”
George chuckled. “I must confess, I agree with you.” He crossed the room towards a small table where a decanter of brandy was waiting, full of tempting brown liquid. He had vowed to himself earlier in the day that he would not drink too much tonight; he knew he needed to remain in control of his faculties.
But he was sure that one more glass would not hurt. He poured a glass for himself and his companions, then returned to the table to join the debate.
He would have to try and forget about the spectre of Julian Ashcroft. There was no point in dwelling on the past; it was far better to focus his attention on future opportunities.
***
Outside in the corridor, Victor leaned against the wall and strained his ears, trying to catch snippets of the conversation that was going on.
It was no use, though. He could not hear a thing. The walls of this grand house were simply far too thick. He suspected he would have more luck if he positioned himself by the door, but the risk of discovery would be far greater there.
He could scarcely imagine the embarrassment if the group of illustrious men inside the study should emerge from within and see him crouched by the door trying to eavesdrop on their conversation like a nosy servant with nothing better to do to pass the time.
No, he would not lower himself to such things. He walked away down the corridor, away from the study. He did not want to go and join the ladies in the drawing room, though, nor did he want to go and play billiards with the other gentlemen. He needed a moment of solitude.
He could not comprehend why George had not invited him to join himself, Edmund, and Thomas in the study. It seemed painfully obvious that they were plotting some great business venture, which he was clearly not going to be allowed to be involved in. He could not understand why George would exclude him.
A stab of panic coursed through him. Surely George could not have found out what he had done all those years ago?
He had been a covetous young man, and if he were truly honest with himself, he would admit that he had remained covetous for all the years that had passed since. He simply wanted to be rich and powerful – was that too much to expect? He had not been born into greatness like the Duke of Wexington.
He had had to claw his way through life, and his status now as a baron had been hard won. But clearly, he was not important enough for Lord Evermere and his companions.
He shook his head as he walked along the dark corridor, looking at the gloomy portraits of George Langley’s ancestors on the walls. There was no way that George could have discovered the truth; he was sure of it. He had covered his tracks too well.
He had not even really intended for it to happen. But when a shadowy figure in an alleyway near the docks had made him an offer, he could not refuse. He had provided just enough information to allow the ship to be intercepted and its cargo to be taken, and that had just been the beginning.
Events had simply run away with themselves after that. He had always intended to share the profits, but when the time came, he found he could not bring himself to part with the money. And when Julian was implicated, what else could he have done? He could not reveal his own guilt and risk losing everything.
And then the rift between George and Julian was inevitable thereafter. George could not save his friend; he had no proof that Julian was innocent. And Julian had died convinced he had been betrayed by his oldest friend.
Victor promised himself then and there, in the dark corridor of Lord Evermere’s house, that he would not allow anything to jeopardize the position in society that he had fought so hard for. Everything would come crumbling down around him if anyone found out that he had committed the betrayal all those years ago.
And poor Felicity would suffer, too. No, he would not allow it to happen. He would not let Sebastian destroy his carefully constructed world. And if he played his cards right and managed to persuade Felicity to play her part too, then everything could still turn out well. He was convinced that he could pull it off. After all, he was a resourceful man, and it would take more than a curious young viscount to ruin everything he had worked hard for all these years.
Chapter 15
Sebastian once again paced up and down his bedroom, unable to sleep. The evening’s events played over and over in his mind.
He had not been fully prepared for the onslaught from Miss Harrow. She seemed very determined to capture his attention, and he had not been quite sure how to handle it. The charade experience had been just as excruciating as he had expected it to be, and then, at dinner, his attention had been entirely captured by Lady Isabella.
He felt a little sorry for her, having to endure the Duke of Harbridge’s boring conversation. But he had also seen the way that Lord and Lady Evermere looked on at the two of them sitting together, and he was in no doubt now that they intended her to marry him.
He knew he should stop thinking about her and force his thoughts away from her every time she popped into his mind, but he found that he could not do it. She was fixed in his mind, and there seemed to be nothing he could do about it.
But his thirst for revenge had not waned either. He had seen George Langley and his stepfather disappearing off to the study after dinner with the Duke of Wexington, and he had been scarcely able to control his feelings. They seemed like they were plotting something, and it had made him realize that his father probably had been the victim of similar private, hidden conversations.
He had allowed himself to get distracted, but it could not continue. He had to persevere in his quest for the truth.
He resolved to go back to the library now that it was late and all the other guests would be asleep. Somehow, he felt drawn to the room and convinced that secrets would be uncovered there.
