Page 44 of The Gentleman Was Right
He would never forget when Sebastian had asked him for advice on how to please Emmeline in the bedchamber. It had been more than a little shocking at the time, but in retrospect it was rather sweet. And even though Edward wasn’t the lothario his brother had believed him to be, he had been happy to help.
“Did you bring the book to London with you?” he asked, suddenly curious.
Edward had found a book with graphic drawings of sexual gratification hidden in the library at Greydon Hall less than a year after their father died. He’d never been particularly naïve about sex. His parents had not been concerned with privacy, so he’d seen quite a bit more than he should have. The book, though, had been revelatory. The illustrations were illuminating and fantasy inspiring. The pictures were not anatomically correct, but the unquestionable pursuit of pleasure between the pages had made a sizable impact on his expectations.
Expectations that hadn’t been met until a certain redhead had kissed him.
“It is missing,” Sebastian whispered.
“You lost it?” he asked incredulously.
He’d kept the book hidden until Sebastian had come to him for advice after marrying Emmeline. No one else knew of its existence.
“Of course not. It disappeared. At first I thought I hadn’t shelved it in the correct spot, but after I performed a thorough inspection, I can confirm it is no longer in the library.”
“The library here? Or at Greydon Hall?”
“Greydon Hall. It disappeared before we left.”
Edward’s brows shot up. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I had other things on my mind.”
“But—” He broke off. “Who do you think took it?” It was a foolish question. There was only one answer that made any sense. He groaned. “Belinda. It had to have been her. Have you asked her where she put it?”
Sebastian looked at him like he was crazy. “Absolutely not. I’ve had more than enough conversations with our sister about men. It has been months since I found her in a compromising position, and I find myself unwilling to pry deeper into the reasons why.”
Edward choked. “You would rather she keep a book full of sexual positions than ask her what she knows about it.”
“Precisely,” Sebastian responded stiffly.
The conversation had diverted to an unexpected place. Edward could offer to talk to Belinda, but it was entirely possible that by doing nothing, Sebastian had already done the right thing. Belinda would not appreciate interference from either of them, and for the first time Edward was rather glad Sebastian was the one tasked with protecting Belinda from scandal.
“You know that I do care about her happiness. And yours,” Sebastian added quietly when Edward didn’t respond. “I always have. Even when it seemed like I didn’t.”
Edward swallowed and nodded. He may have doubted his brother for a time, but he no longer did. He reached over and squeezed Sebastian’s shoulder. “I do know and I’m sorry I ever doubted you.”
ChapterFourteen
Violet would be lying if she claimed she’d never thought of her wedding. As soon as she’d met Basil, she’d actively imagined pledging her heart and soul and body to him. She’d envisioned herself standing in a church wearing a soft shade of green that allowed her startlingly pale skin to glow, while her father and her sister beamed at her from a few feet away. And she’d pictured Basil, his eyes worshipping, his hair perfectly styled, and his morning suit stretching across his broad shoulders.
It would have been perfect ifit had happened as she imagined.
As it was, she was glad it hadn’t happened at all.
Agreeing to marry Edward with far different expectations, she hadn’t concerned herself with the details of their wedding. She told herself that it hardly mattered what she wore. Or how he looked at her. They weren’t in love, and there was no reason to pretend they were.
Instead of considering their wedding, she’d spent her time concentrating on what she would do after they spoke their vows. Her mind had been elsewhere most of the time, and it honestly hadn’t occurred to her to disagree with any of the multitude of suggestions that were made by his family. If they asked her opinion, she simply nodded and agreed with whatever they said they preferred.
Because she’d paid little attention and offered no ideas, on the morning of her wedding she found herself standing at the front of a small church, wearing a perfectly fitted gown of pale lavender that Edward’s sisters had chosen for her.
Trying to remain calm and detached, she looked down at herself and resisted the urge to laugh.
She wasn’t amused.Not even a little.
What she was, wasnervous.
It was not an emotion that she appreciated—especially on her wedding day—so she attempted to ignore it as she snuck a glance at her future husband. He looked exquisite; his jacket appeared to have been sewn onto his body, his light curls were perfectly tousled, and his emerald eyes shone with something that resembled fondness or, heaven help her, affection.
