Course after course was served. With each one more anxiety piled onto Emma until she thought she might burst. When the last course was finished, the men adjoined to the study with their port and cigars, while the women took their sherry and ventured into the music room for some talk.
Emma wanted nothing more than to discuss tonight’s happenings with Sebastian and be on her way to bed. Exhaustion was quickly setting in. By the time she made it to the music room, all three ladies, Belverd’s wife and the two Richardson girls, were already seated, all eyes set on her.
Forcing herself to smile, she walked to the nearest seat and waited for the usual gossip. Instead, one of the Richardson girls, whom Emma believed was named Lily, cleared her throat and leaned forward.
“What is his grace like?”
Oh perfect, how was she to talk about Sebastian when even Emma found him to be a mystery at times. Naturally the girls thought she knew him better than she did.
“He’s lovely,” Emma said.
“Lovely?” Lady Belverd snorted. “Oh dear, it sounds to me like Emma has fallen head over heels for his grace.”
Emma was curious how her describing the duke as lovely sufficed as having fallen for him but decided it was in her best interest not to comment.
“Has he…” Lily bit her lip. “Has he kissed you, Emma?”
Her sister nudged her hard. Emma didn’t mind the question. Wouldn’t she be just as curious?
“Um, well, that is…I—”
“Now, ladies, that is between the duke and Emma.”
“What exactly is between us?” Sebastian swept into the room and bowed before the ladies. “I do hope you were saying good things, Miss Gates.”
Emma lifted her eyebrow as she took a tentative sip of the sherry in her hand. “Of course.”
Sebastian’s eyes never left her face as he announced, “I hope you don’t mind, ladies, but I was hoping to speak to my betrothed for a moment tonight concerning some minor details of our upcoming nuptials. I’m sure you ladies understand.”
Emma thought she heard a few muffled giggles, but couldn’t be sure since her eyes were fully locked on the temptation Sebastian St. James, Duke of Tempest, brought to her.
Dressed in a tight-fitting dinner jacket, his broad shoulders seemed almost too firm to be real. She was half-tempted to run her hands along the smooth fabric. Hadn’t she earlier today decided to enjoy being with Sebastian as long as it lasted? Or had time run out? Just how much had he overheard?
Before she knew it, Emma was being escorted outside onto one of the south facing balconies. Sebastian had no way of knowing it, but this balcony overlooked the Gates’ estate, and if one looked hard enough, it was possible to see the grounds of her parents’ country house as well as their stables.
A familiar longing fell over Emma as her mind went back to easier days. The time before the incident had been good. Her family had adored her and she was to have her first season, but not have to participate in the marriage fiasco it presented. After all, she already had her match.
And what a match Rawlings had been. If looks were to be the deciding factor, then he had those in spades. But he lacked heart, and the years at University had not been good to him. Each time he had returned to her he’d appeared haggard, tired, and debauched. Oh he had still been tall, dark, and handsome. With piercing blue eyes and brown hair, his looks favored Lord Renwick. One could believe them to be brothers. Yet, over time, Lord Renwick had battled his demons and won, while Rawlings was still entrenched in the fight, or had decided to give up. The permanent scowl or smug grin on his face told everyone within his vicinity that he was much too full of himself to be of any use to anyone. The boyish charm was gone. In its place stood a man who had seen too much in the world and come out the other end damaged, just like her.
Maybe Rawlings was interested. Maybe he viewed himself on the same level as Emma. He was her last everything. Her last dance, her last real chance at marriage and the last person who had fully let her down in life. Even if he was interested, he would be the least appropriate man in the country with whom she would align herself. As much as he tried to play her the fool, too much history had gone on between them. She only hoped Sebastian wasn’t bringing her out here for a history lesson, but wanted to spend time with her.
****
Emma appeared a million miles away. Her face stone as she gazed across the countryside. Sebastian didn’t want to interrupt whatever thoughts were plaguing her, and he would be of no help if he asked her to share.
His original intent had been to find out just how well she knew Rawlings. But looking at her face now, he realized it wasn’t for him to ask, it was for her to share, when she was ready. And this was not the time.
Head down, she let out a sigh then faced him.
“You wanted to speak with me, Sebastian?”
Emma’s eyes were void of emotion. If he didn’t know her, he would think she was merely bored, but he knew. It was pain that filled those normally vibrant eyes, and for some reason, he felt he was behind that aching. He watched with concern as she swallowed and, hands shaking, pushed an escaped piece of hair away from her face. Crossing her arms, she gave him the impression she was trying to hug herself, or protect herself from some sort of emotional turmoil.
Music from the salon drifted out onto the terrace. Someone must have decided dancing would make the party livelier.
“Dance with me,” he said, offering his hand.
Sebastian didn’t think it possible, but Emma’s face seemed to pale even more in the moonlight. She looked toward the doorway then back at him.
“I don’t dance.”
“You did before,” he said skeptically.
“Not really.” Emma turned away from him. “It was impulsive of me to try to dance with you at the first ball we attended together. Forgive me. Now I must take my leave.”
“Emma…” Sebastian tried to stop her, but Emma was already out the door. He knew whatever he had said had rubbed her the wrong way. Confused, he stayed out on the balcony. One minute the girl was ready to take any challenge he set before her, the next she seemed as frightened as a tiny mouse. Her emotions alone were enough to drive any man to drink.
Cursing himself for, yet again, making her uncomfortable and for avoiding the topic of Rawlings, he let himself back in the room, walking slowly to the study where the rest of the men were most likely meeting.
His rotten luck continued as he noticed the only man still sitting by the fire was Rawlings himself. Taking a cheroot from the butler, he lifted his coat tails and sat on the furthest seat away from his sworn enemy.
“Tempest,” Rawlings ground out.
Why did it always have to be so tense? Granted, he despised the man, but couldn't they at least be civil?
“Rawlings, has your night been agreeable?”
The only response given him was a grunt from Rawlings and a motion for another brandy, which Sebastian was immediately jealous of considering he himself felt the need to inebriate his body with spirits after his terse conversation with Emma.
“She was mine once,” Rawlings began.
Devil take him, this was not going well.
“Mine,” Rawlings said.
Sebastian felt the sudden urge to pull out his pistols. Unfortunately he wasn’t carrying any, so he was left with the uncomfortable task of listening to Rawlings, drunk as he was, lament over the loss of some chit.
“Miss Emma Gates, the prettiest girl in the country,” Rawlings continued. “You knew we were one betrothed, did you not?”
The smirk on Rawlings’ face was enough to make Sebastian want to hang him. The man should learn his place.
“Oh, don’t get your feathers all in a ruffle, Tempest. I’m merely making polite conversation. Wouldn’t a healthy competition be good for you, my dear fellow?” He smiled and lifted his cup in a toast. “We knew each other well. And before you get that deuced awful scowl on your face, you should know I don’t mean in the Christian way. We were both too young for that, not that it mattered later on. I can’t even imagine why I am telling you this.”
“Too many spirits?” Sebastian offered.
Rawlings ignored him. “Can’t say that it matters though, she’s ruined now. Can’t believe you even offered for her, what with her reputation. It’s only a matter of time before the ton gets wind of her many sins. Did I say many? I mean one, but it’s not for you to know. Only myself.” Rawlings voice continued to mumble until a loud snore came out.
Sebastian waited in anticipation. What in the blazes was this man talking about? What did Rawlings know that Sebastian didn’t? Unsettled, Sebastian waited for Rawlings to say more. Odd that he would hint at any sort of scandal with Emma. But Rawlings was also drunk. If Emma had any black marks attached to her name, surely Nicholas would have said something. His friend knew how important his reputation was to him. He wouldn’t jeopardize that for someone who was merely related to him by marriage.
Just as he was getting ready to kick Rawlings in the shin and demand an explanation, a second snore came and Rawlings’ glass fell to the floor. What information Rawlings was keeping from him would obviously not be revealed tonight. Not with Rawlings so deep in his cups and Emma as skittish as a church mouse. Reluctantly, Sebastian pushed off the plush chair and took the stairs to his room.
Pure torture engulfed him as he realized just how close Emma’s lush body was to his own. One door was all that separated them. One tiny, flimsy piece of wood and he could see her. What would she be wearing? Would she be sleeping peacefully? Would she be—
Sebastian yelled a string of curses as he stepped into his fire lit room. Emma was sitting in the chair next to the fireplace, twirling her long locks in her fingers. Of all the scandals, this had to be the worst.
“What in the blazes are you doing here?” Unfortunately Sebastian’s body was already aroused after thinking of Emma in her nightgown. Now that he saw her in the flesh, he was ready to throw caution to the wind and take her in the quickest way possible.
“Emma?” he asked again, trying to soothe his arousal.
The minx motioned for him to sit and took a drink of wine she had apparently brought to his room. Lovely, more spirits to dampen his focus.
Emma hadn’t moved from her seat. The lines of her beautiful face were illuminated by the fireplace. Never had there been a better setting for seduction.
On cue, her robe fell off her shoulder, revealing a creamy white expanse of skin just begging to be touched.
Sebastian cursed and looked away. “Emma, by your presence in my room I can only deduce you want to speak with me about something that’s on your mind.” Strain was evident as he spoke every word. It was a chore to act normal when the room was ripe for seduction.
Surely he would be sainted if he survived this.
He opened his eyes just in time to see Emma lick her lips and sigh.
Wine. Where was the wine?
Slowly, methodically, he poured himself a glass then walked to where Emma sat and joined her in the across facing chair. He lifted the red liquid to his lips, closing his eyes as the wine trickled down his throat. Unfortunately it wasn’t high enough in its alcohol content to numb the raging lust he was feeling.