Page 35 of A Kiss Of Lies

After handing him a glass of whiskey, Sebastian slumped back into his chair. “I know, but finding wives with good dowries will be delayed by years, as they are young boys, and I don’t need their financial worries on my conscience as well.” He raised an eyebrow. “Will you do that for me?”

“Of course I will.” Christian twirled his glass in his hand, pondering whether he should ask a favor in return. Should he involve his friend further in his affairs? Sebastian had enough problems of his own.

“Actually, I thought I’d spend a few days here at your villa, if that is all right with you.” He’d made his decision to stay over dinner. This island paradise was the perfect place for seduction, and he also wanted Sebastian to help him ascertain anything he could about Sarah’s husband, the despicable Mr. Cooper.

Sebastian broke into a wicked grin. “Ideal for seduction, is it not? It’s all this hot weather and beautiful scenery. It makes the ladies lower their guard. And wear fewer clothes.”

Christian laughed. “Is that why you picked Jamaica?”

“Well, it’s better than the back of beyond in Canada.”

“I should have known you’d have only one thing on your mind, regardless of the fact that you were fleeing England in disgrace.” Christian stretched out his legs and rested his glass on his stomach. He felt more relaxed and alive than he had in a long time. “You’re right, this island lends itself to seduction, but that is not my only reason for delaying my departure.” He contemplated the beauty of the lit garden and let its healing perfection soak into his soul. Finally he uttered, “From what little Sarah has told me, I believe her husband was a plantation owner, and I’m hoping someone here might be able to tell me more about him. Apparently they stopped in Jamaica on their honeymoon—something to do with slaves—before continuing on to Virginia. He must have met with someone while he was here.”

Sebastian puffed his cheroot. “Do you think knowing who he was might help you in some way?”

“It would help me understand how to help Sarah.” He shrugged. “I really just wish to know more about her. She’s an enigma.”

“Fine. We can go into town tomorrow and see if anyone has heard of Mr. Cooper and his beautiful young bride from England.” Sebastian sat silently, blowing smoke rings into the air. “I think Mrs. Cooper is more important to you than a simple seduction. You wouldn’t care so much about helping her. You like her and, I think, admire her.”

Christian was silent for a moment. He did admire her. Many women in her situation would not be as strong or as courageous as Sarah. She had not let her husband’s treatment of her, the position he’d left her in financially, and the fact she was so far from home defeat her or make her bitter. She still had empathy for others—take him, for instance, and then there was Lily. Sarah treated his ward as if she were her own child.

Christian eyed his friend warily. “A man in my scarred condition gets few opportunities where women are concerned. I admit it—the idea that a woman doesn’t find me repulsive is a powerful aphrodisiac.”

Sebastian gave a knowing smile. “It’s more than that. I recognize the look in your eyes when you gaze upon her. I’ve seen it in other lovestruck fools. Such a look is possessive, tender, admiring. Your potential offspring would be stunning, by the way. Perhaps you should think less of seduction and more of making her your wife. If anyone understands how precarious life can be, it’s you.”

“What, talk of marriage from the lips of a Libertine Scholar?”

Sebastian chuckled and held up his hands. “Not for me. Definitely, it’s not for me—yet! I’ve too many women to get to know intimately before I settle down with a plain mouse of a wife. No grand love match for me, far too volatile. But you? I suspect love is very appealing to a man like you. Perhaps you’re ready.”

Christian sat up straight in his chair and stared at his friend as if he were the smartest man he’d ever met. Was he ready? On the battlefield he’d pledged that when the war was won, he would marry and beget his heir. Then his injuries at Waterloo had almost taken his life. As he lay writhing in pain, he’d reflected on what a waste his death would be. No lover or wife would mourn his passing. He had no children to carry on the Markham name. He’d been saddened and disgusted with himself for neglecting his duty to ensure an heir. He’d fought to ensure a better England, and it was his duty to protect his tenants, who relied on the Earl of Markham for their livelihoods and well-being. How would his death safeguard them?

As he lay recovering, he’d become even more determined to marry. It was not until he’d put a foot back into society that he’d understood the monumental task he faced in finding a woman who would tolerate his injuries. He had faced the humiliation of rejection. No one except the desperate wanted him. His title and money attracted those who, it would be kind to say, were on the shelf, or whose families were in financial strife. No one wanted to marry him just for him.

But Sarah hadn’t once looked at him with revulsion. He felt that, somehow, she saw him, who he really was.

Christian admitted, “Your idea has merit. Prior to the war, it would not have been difficult to find a woman prepared to marry a Markham.” Women had flocked to him like bees to honey. The tales of his father’s brutality and the rumors surrounding his mother’s death were disregarded, and women focused only on his looks, title, and wealth. “But now the pool of potential wives has diminished somewhat because of my hideous burns. Oh, don’t misunderstand me—the title and money they like well enough. Just not the look of the man that comes with them.”

Sebastian blew another smoke ring. “If Sarah is the Duke’s by-blow, get him to recognize her. Society might then overlook her background.”

He sat contemplating Sebastian’s suggestion, letting the whiskey relax him. He’d almost died at Waterloo and he had no heir. It wasn’t as if he had all the time in the world to find a suitable wife. Besides, he wanted a wife who would willingly share his bed, not one who would see it just as a wifely duty.

When Sarah had been in his room, he’d seen unbridled desire in her eyes—without monetary incentive. Plus there was no question that she was beautiful and intelligent, as well. And, if his hunch was correct, she came from good breeding stock.

He pondered the fact she’d been married for almost two years with no children. Then his mouth smiled at the memory. She’d told him she’d ensured there were none. Yes, she was clever and courageous.

She was a survivor, like him.

Whom better to form a partnership with? They were both too battered by life to believe in true love. But mutual respect, desire, and friendship would ensure a less lonely existence for them both.

But would she risk marriage a second time?

If he could reach out to Sarah and prove to her that he’d treat her well, like an equal, he would then show her how they could have a good life together. Maybe he would succeed in wooing her.

His stomach cramped with the realization that he’d have to do more than just seduce her. If he wanted her to take the risk of matrimony again, he’d have to win her trust. She’d already adamantly indicated she’d not marry a second time.

Building trust would take time. Well, he had time—the time it took to voyage home. Trust was hard to earn, but very quickly broken. He would have to make a plan and execute it carefully. His strategy had to be sound and his delivery flawless. If he let her know he was looking at her as a potential wife, she’d no doubt flee. Her views on matrimony were perfectly clear. She would not be owned again.

Christian needed her to think he only wanted her as a lover—a paramour and nothing more. If he could introduce her to the delights and pleasures of the bedroom, if he could teach her that life could be filled with joy again, then surely he’d win her trust. He wasn’t expecting her to love him, but he hoped she’d be willing to make a life with him.

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