Page 11 of Sinful Persuasion of a Lady in the Making
Chapter Six
Sebastian puffed on the cigar to light it, the blue smoke hanging in the air around his head. He inhaled deeply. It was a scent he had loved since childhood; it reminded him of his father. In truth, it was probably the nostalgia that made him smoke at all. He was not particularly keen on the taste, although he had to admit the feeling it gave him was pleasant enough, and the brotherhood he felt with his fellow men was worth it enough.
“Bloody balls,” he muttered to himself as he stepped off the terrace and into the garden proper, the grass soft under his feet.
He had escaped the stuffiness of the ballroom, leaving his sister to dance and woo as best she could, and found solace in the quiet outdoors. Music drifted gently, the loud chatter disguising it as mere background noise, but even the sound of the guests was subdued here, between the trees. And Sebastian finally felt as though he could breathe.
He leaned against the rough bark of a tall oak tree, watching the cherry-red tip of his cigar bouncing around in the dark. These sorts of events always got to him. Diana was increasingly hateful, and the gossip formed a thick blanket of misery around him.
And yet she wonders why I am reluctant to attend!
He knew—of course he did—that he had made some bad choices in life, but the only way he knew how to deal with them was to hide himself away from the polite world, burrowed in the darkness of drink and gambling. Whether it was right or not, he couldn’t stop himself. He spiraled, further and further into the depths of self-pity.
His thoughts stopped abruptly, intruded upon by a man’s voice, lewd and rough. He took a step forward, still hidden by the cover of the trees but closer to the stone balustrade that ran around the paved terrace, and he listened intently.
“Come here, pretty little thing. You won’t get away with treating me like that. Lord knows I want to get my hands on you!”
The lady in question whimpered.Demurely, perhaps?
Sebastian chuckled to himself, thinking he had stumbled upon some illicit fun, a couple who had snuck into the garden to misbehave. No matter what his sister said, Sebastian always approved of people willing to misbehave. It meant they were not restrained and ruined by the seemingly arbitrary rules of society.
The man let out a guttural groan of passion and hunger, and Sebastian turned to walk away with a chuckle.
I shall leave them to enjoy themselves.
“Yes, that’s it,” the man said, the sneer in his voice making Sebastian cock his head in question and turn back. Perhaps he had read the situation wrong. “Stay where you are, little kitty cat, there’s no escaping me now.”
“Leave me be, you brute!”
Sebastian gasped. The lady’s voice squeaked with fear but growled with rage, and he suddenly realized she was probably not a willing player in this game after all.
He took another step forward, careful not to rustle the leaves that surrounded him, and he peered around the tree trunk. The lady in question was backed up against the balustrade, indeed unable to get away, while the man had his hands held out in front of him, moving closer toward her.
At first, Sebastian could only see silhouettes, his eyes not quite adjusted to the candlelight coming from the ballroom. But as the gloom faded, he saw it was the lady he had been drawn to before, the one his sister had warned him about.
Miss Jones.
And the man approaching her had an ugly leer disgracing his face.
“Don’t you take another step forward, or you’ll regret it,” she said through gritted teeth, holding a finger up as though that might be some sort of defense over the man who was clearly bigger than her.
“What will you do?” the man asked with a giggle. “Stamp on my foot again? I’m afraid that little trick won’t work this time. And there is no one out here to witness our act of… union, either.”
“Union!” she cried. “Just leave me be.”
“Why attend such an event in search of business, if you’re only going to reject that business when it arrives?”
He sounded genuinely curious, but Sebastian had met men like this before. He was trying to lower Miss Jones’ guard, nothing more.
“What are you talking about?” Jenny snapped. “I am not—”
“A lady of the night? Forgive me, but all the evidence points to the contrary, and I have been told of your… expertise.”
“No!” Miss Jones cried. “You’re wrong.”
“How dare you say so,” he said in mock annoyance. “I am a Lord and you… well, you are nothing. Now, give me what I am owed, or I will bring you and that brother of yours down to where you belong.”
The lord took another step forward and Miss Jones whimpered again—not loud or weak, but just enough for Sebastian to hear, and no doubt the brute that attacked her.
