Page 48 of What's a Duke Got to Do With It
Instead she managed a trembling smile, though in truth she felt she might be ill. “Thank you, Mr. Young,” she said.
He nodded, in such a way that made it seem as if he were bestowing a great favor upon her. Which, she supposed, he was. A lowering thought, indeed.
“I will have you visit the farm for a day,” he said. “That way I may see how you get on with the children. After that, I will decide if you could be a proper mother for them.”
So saying, Mr. Young turned the boat back for shore. Katrina, feeling as if she had been invited to apply for a position in the man’s household as a servant and not as his wife, slumped in her seat, her gaze once more drifting listlessly to where Sebastian stood. Though she was being rowed closer and closer to him, she felt as if the distance between them had never been so great.
Bridling had been successfully paired with Lady Paulette for not only some rowing, but also for the picnic that followed, and so Sebastian should feel nothing but triumph. Things were going beautifully, the boy’s actress seemingly all but forgotten as he laughed and talked with the latest object of his affections. The end of their time on Synne had to be close now.
Yet instead of Sebastian relaxing with the group and reveling in his looming triumph, here he was, sitting off to the side with Mouse, trying and failing not to glare daggers at Mr. Young as he passed a plate of fruit to Katrina.
“What the blazes is wrong with me?” he mumbled.
Mouse, who had been stuck to his side like a burr all day long, turned his head and gazed at Sebastian with large, soulful eyes.
“I should be happy for her,” he went on, this time directing it to the dog, who continued to look at him in solemn silence. “Mr. Young doesn’t seem a bad sort. He’s a boring stick in the mud, yes. And he has far too many children.”
He looked back to Katrina, who was conversing with her suitor, a small, tremulous smile on her face. “But I cannot be happy. She deserves so much more. She deserves a man who loves her, who will give her the entire world.”
A low whine issued from Mouse’s chest, one huge paw coming up to rest on Sebastian’s knee.
“Well, of course, I care for her,” Sebastian said, plucking a leaf from a nearby bush and tearing it into small pieces before tossing it aside. “But I cannot be the one to marry her. As much as I may want to.”
That last bit slipped out quite without him meaning to. He had been fighting it for days, that voice in his head that had been urging him to turn his back on his responsibilities and make a life with Katrina.
But hearing it aloud from his own lips made it so much more heartbreaking, an undeniable fact that threatened to shatter him.
The whine from Mouse was louder this time, more persistent. Sebastian looked down at him, and his heart twisted at the sadness in those big eyes, reflecting what was in his own heart.
“I can’t marry her,” he rasped. “The whole reason I’m planning on marrying Miss Bridling is to save the dukedom and all the people who rely on it. I can’t sacrifice their safety and livelihoods for my own selfish reasons. I just can’t. No matter how much I—”
He stopped the words before they could emerge, those damning words that there was no coming back from. But Mouse was either much smarter than Sebastian gave him credit for, or a demon sent from hell to torment him, for he let out a low woof, pushing his nose into Sebastian’s chest, as if to dislodge the truth that was stuck there like a cherry pit.
“No, Mouse,” he said, his voice hoarse.
But the dog was not about to give up. He pushed harder, letting loose an insistent whine for good measure.
“Fine,” Sebastian managed. “Do you want me to tell you I love her? Of course I love her. How could I not? I have never known another who would so selflessly give of themselves to help others, who would give up their own chance for happiness to protect those she loves. Not only that, but she has even made certain to assist me in reclaiming some of the joy I used to have in life. And God knows I have not deserved it, not after all I have done to get in her way. She is the kindest, the sweetest, the most amazing woman I have ever known.”
A humorless bark of laughter broke free from his lips. “And the cruelest part is,” he continued, unable to stop himself from pouring his heart out to her dog, “Ihaveconsidered ways I might be with her. I have spent the last two nights wracking my brain, trying to come up with a solution. Is there an old friend, perhaps, who might assist me until the dukedom finally becomes solvent? Is there a bank that might extend to me yet another loan? Is there anything else I might sell to provide the necessary money? But each possible path I see myself taking comes to a dead end. It is hopeless.”
Mouse heaved a mournful sigh and laid his massive head in Sebastian’s lap.
“I know, old man,” he muttered, patting the dog’s head. “It’s highly depressing.”
They remained that way for a time, each mired in his own thoughts. If dogs could be mired in thoughts, of course. Just as he was about to rise and rejoin the others, however, a sudden voice made him tense.
“The dog seems to like you, Your Grace.”
Sebastian glanced up sharply to see Mr. Young peering down at him.
“Have you decided to leave Miss Denby’s side then?” The question burst from his lips without him meaning for it to, burning his throat with bitter gall.Shut up, Sebastian.
Mr. Young frowned slightly before, holding up the pale blue piece of fabric in his grip, he said, “She was growing chilled and asked me to fetch her shawl.”
More sharp retorts rose up and Sebastian forcefully swallowed them down. Truly, what the hell was wrong with him? He had vowed to Katrina he would no longer interfere in her life. And even if he hadn’t, he had no right to verbally attack the man. This was Katrina’s choice and hers alone. If she wanted to marry this potato with hair, that was her business.
“That’s most kind of you,” he managed, returning his attention to Mouse.
