Page 41 of A Sinful Viscount's Mistletoe Affair
“I am not sure I want to play, Adrian,” Sebastian said in a low voice once all the gentlemen were ensconced in the room.
“Well, I am sure there are others who will happily play first,” Adrian replied. “There is only one table, after all. Let’s just have a drink and watch the game.”
Sebastian nodded, and Adrian went over to a small table where a few decanters of brandy and whisky were laid out. He poured them both a drink, then returned and handed a glass to Sebastian.
“You seem rather out of sorts, my friend,” Adrian observed.
Sebastian thought for a moment about how best to respond. The truth was that he was oscillating rapidly between feelings of almost enraptured joy when he thought of Isabella, and surges of guilt and anger when he reflected on his failure to make any progress regarding uncovering the mystery of what had happened to his father.
It all seemed rather too complicated to admit to Adrian, though. And, of course, he was not going to mention what had happened privately between himself and Isabella. Not where there was a chance of them being overheard, at any rate.
“Just rather a lot on my mind, that’s all,” Sebastian said, deciding to keep it brief for now. Perhaps he would confide in Adrian a little more when they were alone, but now was not the time, when they could be overheard by any of the other gentlemen gathered in the room.
Adrian took a sip of his drink and looked at his friend curiously. “I wonder that you are not more cheerful when you are quite clearly besotted with Lady Isabella.”
Sebastian glared at him. “Keep your voice down!” he hissed.
“Well, it is no great secret, my friend.” Adrian chuckled. “Anyone who has seen the two of you together could not be in any doubt that you are developing feelings for one another. You have hardly spoken a word to anyone else all day.”
Sebastian shrugged. “Why would I, when she is by far the most interesting person in the room, whenever she is present?”
He remembered their conversation that afternoon in the drawing room. She was so knowledgeable about so many of the things that he was interested in; he simply could not help himself. When he was with her, he wanted to find out more about her thoughts and opinions. Although when they were alone together, of course, there were things other than talking that he wanted to do, too.
But the situation was not simple. In another life, perhaps, he would have asked to court her formally, but how could he when her father was the source of his own father’s downfall? How could he align himself with her family when her father had wreaked disaster upon his?
He let out a ragged sigh, and Adrian stared at him, then pulled him into a corner. “You cannot be thinking of using your growing relationship with Lady Isabella to progress this insane quest for vengeance?” he whispered. “I do not know how many times I have to tell you that it would be far better if you just forgot about the whole thing. And surely you would not exploit her like that?”
Sebastian groaned softly. He knew, in his heart, that he already had exploited her. Perhaps already he had done unforgiveable things. “I cannot explain it to you here, Adrian,” he replied. “Please, do not talk of it anymore.”
Adrian shrugged. “Very well, but please be careful. And do not do anything that would make you feel ashamed of yourself when you look back on it.”
His friend’s words made Sebastian wince. The truth was that he was already ashamed of himself and what he had done. He was using Isabella to try to find out the truth about his father, but he was not even making any progress there. How had he become so impotent, so indecisive? And how had he allowed himself to be so utterly distracted by her beauty and charm to the point that he could scarcely think of anything else?
He looked around the room and saw George Langley talking with the Duke of Harbridge. He had to take some action this evening, he resolved. He had vacillated for long enough, and it was not fair on Isabella to continue like this. Because the truth of the matter, really, when he forced himself to acknowledge it, was that every moment he spent with her, his quest for vengeance became less and less compelling.
Perhaps Adrian was right, and he should let the whole thing go. But not until he had made one last attempt at uncovering the mystery that had dominated his mind for so long.
***
“The truth is, George, that I am not at all convinced she will accept me,” Henry said.
George frowned. This conversation was not going the way he had hoped it would. He had expected Isabella to be more encouraging towards the duke’s advances, in all honesty, but he had not anticipated the bond that seemed to be growing between her and Sebastian. And clearly, he was not the only one who had noticed.
“I am sure she will accept your proposal, Henry,” George said, trying to sound more convinced that he really was.
“Well,” Henry said with a shrug, “the fact of the matter is that I probably see these things a little more baldly than she does. If she wants a great love story, then I am not the man for her. But I can offer her a very comfortable home, a highly elevated position in society, and a useful business connection between our two families.”
George nodded. “She is a sensible girl at heart. I think she will accept the reality of the situation.”
“So when shall we announce the engagement?” Henry persisted. “I am rather keen to get it all sorted out, you know. I am not a man who enjoys uncertainty.”
George glanced across the room and saw Sebastian engrossed in conversation with Mr Sterling. Sebastian looked distracted as if he was worried about something. George felt at a loss as to what to do. He did not know much about young ladies, but he knew enough to sense that Isabella would much prefer to be Sebastian’s wife than to marry the duke despite all the obvious advantages of the match.
But he knew he could not permit the match. If Sebastian were to encroach that deeply into their family, then he would learn the truth: that George had not done enough to absolve his father, to save him from the accusations made against him, and ultimately, he had not done enough to save him from his untimely and tragic death.
He had not done enough for his friend, and he did not want Julian’s son to discover this. He did not think that he could bear the shame of it.
But would he then force his daughter to marry the duke instead? He resolved that he would have to. There was no other solution to the problem that he faced. Isabella, surely, would get used to the idea. The Duke of Harbridge was not such an awful man, after all. And she would be a duchess, which surely was the kind of position that most young ladies dreamed of.
