Page 45 of What's a Duke Got to Do With It
“Ah, you’re here,” he mumbled, in a tone that was not at all like his typical cheerful voice. “I had forgotten about our ride.”
Which was truly peculiar, as he had appeared excited for the prospect of exploring the Isle when Sebastian had brought it up earlier—an outing Sebastian had suggested for the sole purpose of feeling Bridling out regarding Miss Hutton. The boy had not so much as mentioned his paramour over the past couple days, a strange turn of events. And one that left Sebastian equally hopeful for and dreading what was to come. If the combined efforts of Sebastian and Lady Tesh and the Isle of Synne had finally worked and turned the boy from thoughts of his actress, it meant their time here would soon come to a close. Sebastian could finally return to London and secure Miss Bridling’s hand—and her fortune—having done what Lord Cartmel had required him to do.
Which also meant, of course, that he would be leaving Katrina behind, most likely never to see her again.
Unless you abandon this whole blasted plan and marry her yourself.
If Sebastian had been drinking something he would have certainly choked. No, he would not allow his mind to go down that path. It would only torture him, knowing that a future with her, something he had wanted so desperately all those years ago, would never be within his grasp. Yet now that it had been allowed to slink into his brain, he could not easily dispel it. Though dispel it he must. This was how it had to be, after all, the path he had been forced to take the moment his father took advantage of all those people. Too many were counting on this marriage with Miss Bridling, his sisters and the tenants and all those who worked at Ramsleigh Castle included; he could not destroy their futures due to any selfishness on his part. No matter how much he might want a future with Katrina.
Propping his shoulder against the doorjamb, he watched Bridling closely as he tidied up the desk, dropping the silver stopper of his ink pot in his haste. It was time to put his sole focus on the boy. And that boy, much to Sebastian’s bafflement, appeared nervous, evasive, as if he would jump out of his skin if Sebastian so much as moved wrong. What the blazes was going on?
“Forgive me,” the boy said. “I completely lost track of time.”
“If you’d rather remain inside and complete your correspondence, we can postpone our ride for another day,” Sebastian replied neutrally.
“Correspondence?” Bridling frowned, looking to the desk, as if he could not contemplate what Sebastian was talking about. “No, it wasn’t correspondence. Who would I correspond with?”
“Forgive me,” Sebastian murmured. “I assumed you would be writing to Miss Hutton.”
“Mirabel?” Once more Bridling appeared confused. Though this time there was something more to his frown, as if he could not understand why Sebastian had brought the woman up at all. “Goodness, I have not thought of her in several days.” A short bark of laughter escaped him. “Funny that, isn’t it. Though with what has occurred since, can you blame me? It is not every day a man can play knight in shining armor.”
For a strange moment he fell silent, his eyes going distant and soft until, with a shake of his head, he looked back to Sebastian.
“But my apologies, I have not yet readied myself. I’ll meet you downstairs in about fifteen minutes’ time, shall I?”
Without waiting for an answer, he made his way to his dressing room. But not before locking up the desk tight.
Sebastian strode from the room, his heart thrumming in his chest, feeling much like a bloodhound with its first scent of fox. No, not just a scent of fox; the whole bloody fox had laid down in front of him. He could not have asked for a more viable piece of proof that Bridling’s interest in his actress was waning, his dismissal of his paramour as loud as a shout that the tide was turning.
But that had not been the only thing to capture Sebastian’s attention. Bridling’s dismissal of Miss Hutton had appeared intermingled with something tangible, namely his reference to playing knight in shining armor. A memory surfaced then, of Cartmel’s frustration that day when he’d spoken of his son’s infatuation with Miss Hutton:It’s his need to be a savior, no doubt. He always was enamored of the idea of playing a knight in shining armor. And when he rescued that actress from an overzealous admirer one evening it must have brought up those grandiose delusions that he revels in.
It was quite possible that very same thing had happened again, only this time with Lady Paulette. Was it possible he had formed a tendre for the young woman?
His steps faltered on the stairs as he considered that. Lady Paulette was from a good family. Her father, the Marquess of Ilford, possessed a lineage that even Lord Cartmel in his arrogance could not fail to be impressed by. If by some chance the young lady was beginning to replace Miss Hutton in Bridling’s affections, if Bridling should fall in love with Lady Paulette, surely Cartmel would support such a match. And the price Sebastian had been expected to pay would be paid in full, no doubt with interest. The only question now was: How did he see to it that Bridling and Lady Paulette were brought into one another’s orbits so Bridling’s burgeoning feelings might become more fully formed and thus cement the outcome needed to end this damnable trip—and finally get Sebastian far from the temptation that was Katrina?
Katrina.But no, he would not think of her. He would focus on finishing this thing with Bridling. And there was only one person who had the necessary talent to assist him: Lady Tesh.
The woman would no doubt be in the drawing room at this time of day. So focused was he on reaching that room before his planned departure with Bridling, however, he did not immediately hear the masculine voice from within until he had already rounded the door.
At the sight of the fair, bespectacled fellow seated close to Katrina on the settee he stopped cold.
He had never seen the man before, that was certain. Who was he? And why was he sitting so bloody close to Katrina?
He did not realize just how tightly he was holding his hands into fists until the brim of his beaver hat gave a rather sickening crunch. Looking down at the article, he let loose a soft curse as he attempted to smooth the blasted brim out, all the while taking deep, fortifying breaths to calm his sudden agitation that was certainlynotjealousy. No doubt this man was the latest in Katrina’s attempts to marry and make herself respectable. He cast a furtive glance their way, taking stock of the man—as any good friend would do, surely, and not at all out of the ordinary. At least the man appeared to be a gentleman, perhaps even a quiet bookish type, not a letch or near death’s door as the other two had been. While he was not in the first blush of youth, he could not be above forty, a slight bit of graying at his temples and faint lines at the corners of his eyes giving him a distinguished appearance. Add to that his neat clothing and commanding posture, and Sebastian could almost see the appeal of the man.
Almost.
When Katrina gave the other man what could be construed as a flirtatious smile, however, he knew it would take an incredible amount of effort to keep his promise to her that he would not interfere.
Blessedly he was saved from doing further damage to his much-maligned hat when Mouse spotted him. Woofing softly, the beast rose and trotted over to him, tail swinging in a happy arc. Unfortunately, the dog’s attention also drew the eyes of the others his way. As Katrina’s gaze met his and her smile faltered, he thought surely the whole room must have heard his heart cracking.
“Pardon me for interrupting,” he managed, patting Mouse’s smooth head distractedly, more to keep the beast’s snout from his private area than anything else. “I was looking for Lady Tesh.”
That woman—who he had completely overlooked, as focused as he had been on Katrina and her caller—spoke up from the depths of her wingback chair near the others, beckoning him closer. “Well, I am here, m’boy. But why don’t you come and meet our guest. Mr. Young, I would like to introduce you to the Duke of Ramsleigh, who has accompanied my friend’s son Mr. Bridling for a short holiday on Synne. Ramsleigh, this here is Mr. Young. Mr. Young owns a small farm on the far side of the Isle, a pretty little piece of property.”
“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Your Grace,” the man said in a solemn, monotone voice as he rose and bowed.
“We do not often get to see Mr. Young,” Lady Tesh continued. “He is a widower, you know, with several children, and rarely comes into town.” She eyed Katrina thoughtfully. “Imagine my surprise when he deigned to show up on my doorstep with the express purpose of calling on Miss Denby.”
