Page 40 of Sinful Persuasion of a Lady in the Making
Chapter Fourteen
Sebastian stood and looked up at the house, feeling the same shame he had when he woke that morning. The shawl hung from his fingertips, not quite grazing the ground. Sebastian liked the house, and somewhere deep in the recesses of his mind, he imagined himself there with a wife and perhaps a babe or two.
A wife like Miss Jones.
He shook his head. He couldn’t think like that so soon, not when they barely knew one another. But the truth was, she had enchanted him, and he could think of little else. Normally, when so taken with someone of the fairer sex, it was fleeting, an attraction that was gone by morning. But with Miss Jones, it was different.
As Smith took his cape and top hat, Diana popped her head around the parlor door.
“Ah, you’re back,” she said with a smile on her face. “I thought I heard someone arriving. Would you care to join me for a cup of tea?”
Sebastian thought quickly. He had wanted to freshen up and then visit Miss Jones again as soon as the opportunity arrived. And besides, he was certainly in no mood for another argument. But Diana seemed alive with energy and he was curious at her change of attitude.
“That would be lovely,” he said, intrigued and following her into the parlor.
She took her seat and nodded to the maid, who promptly served the tea, just as Sebastian liked it and just as she had been trained to do.
“How was your morning?” she asked, cheerily stirring sugar into her tea. He narrowed his eyes at her.
“Perfectly acceptable,” Sebastian replied. “And yours? You seem in a rather cheery mood for some reason.”
“Am I not allowed to be happy?” she asked.
“Of course you are,” he said. “It’s just… never mind, it’s of no importance. I’m glad to see you smile, and it’s delightful to take tea with you without there being some sort of disagreement.”
“Indeed,” Diana said, teacup raised to her lips. “My thoughts exactly.”
“So what are your plans for the day?” he asked, hoping to engage her in some pleasant conversation and steer clear of anything unsettling.
“Oh, you know,” she said wistfully. “The same old things we unmarried ladies do every day.”
“Diana,” he warned, shooting her a glance. She waved away his warning.
“A girl can jest, can she not?” she said with a barely concealed chuckle. “In truth, I plan to do very little. Perhaps read for a while. It’s awfully hot outside—far too hot for a walk, and I have received no invitations, so reading in this room it shall be.”
“A restful day, then,” he said, smiling at her. “It sounds quite lovely.”
He looked around the room vaguely, and his eye caught on something, the edges delicately embroidered.
My handkerchief!
“Where did that come from?” he asked, nodding toward the offending article.
“Where did what come from?” she asked in perfect innocence.
“That,” he said, pointing directly at it, “my handkerchief.”
“Oh,that,” Diana said. “I don’t know. It’s your handkerchief. I suppose you must have dropped it.”
Sebastian narrowed his eyes at his sister, trying to decide it she genuinely thought that, or if she was lying to him.
“That’s not true,” he said, shaking his head. “No, that’s the handkerchief I loaned to Miss Jones last night, when she was crying.”
“How very chivalrous of you,” Diana said haughtily. “Mother and Father would be proud of such kind behavior.”
“That was uncalled for, Diana. I have never been unkind. Wayward, perhaps, but always kind.”
Diana made a noncommittal sound in reply.
