Page 71 of My Deceitful Duchess
Charlie abandoned her, faithless hound that he was, no doubt in his eagerness for whatever bits of toast he could cajole out of Sebastian.
Sebastian made it halfway up the stairs before he realized she had not followed. “Tea and conversation only,” he said. “And in the morning, when the shops have opened, we’ll find you a ring.”
With a sigh, she placed one hand on the bannister and began to head upstairs. “A ridiculous errand,” she muttered, surprised by the vaguely sulky sound of her voice. “I don’t require a ring.”
“Don’t be difficult. You’re getting a ring.” He had disappeared into his bedroom, and she heard the faint clatter of china as he set down the tray.
She didn’t know why she was so tempted to provoke him, and yet she persisted. “It’s a meaningless bit of jewelry,” she said. “A waste of money. And of time.”
“Symbols are important. I don’t always understand why they mean so much to people, but this—this I understand. Itmeanssomething to me.” There was the dim glow of light from his room, and for a moment her heart gave a hard, heavy beat in her chest. How many times before had she flicked back the curtains at the window of her room to see him settled into the chair near his window, reading whatever naughty bit of literature she had most recently lent to him?
For just a moment, it felt almost as if she had stepped back through time. As if she might wander into that room and find Sebastian—herSebastian; the one who had not betrayed her—seated there, waiting for her.
But he wasn’t. He wasn’t, and the disappointment that swept over her was so powerful that her fingers clenched upon the door jamb. He neverwouldbe.ThatSebastian had revealed himself as a fraud. He had never existed at all; he had been only a product of her ardent imagination. Andthisone—this was the one she had bound herself to.Wouldbind herself to.
His dark eyes were shadowed as he risked a glance at her face and swiftly looked away again, as if he could not bear to witness what he had wrought of her. “It means something to me,” he repeated. “And I think there was a time, under better circumstances, that it would have meant something to you as well.” His elegant hands, capable of such tenderness and such unfathomable cruelty, poured a cup of tea and prepared it exactly as she liked. “So you’ll have a ring,” he continued, “And I shall hope for better circumstances. And when they arrive, I know you will remember that it hasalwaysmeant something to me.”
∞∞∞
Sebastian slumped back in his chair, turning his book face-down over his knee to watch Jenny sleep. She had never done it in her chemise before, and he doubted it would be as comfortable as a nightgown—or naked, but she had not been willing to undress further in his presence, and she had been made vulnerable enough just lately.
Charlie had curled up beside her, in the spot that ought to have beenhis. The dog was not sleeping, but instead looked rather as if he was standing guard. Just occasionally, she twitched in her sleep, and Charlie snuggled closer with a little whine, nudging her with his nose until she settled again.
They hadn’t found a ring. But then, Jenny had not truly beenlooking. At best, she could be said to beuninterested. At worst, actively scornful of the process. It felt like a test, though he was certain she had not intended for it to be one. If he wanted her to have a ring, thenhewould have to find it, for she would not choose the symbol of her own imprisonment.
She wanted no such entanglements with him. She would not even allow him to purchase her breakfast—as if to do so would be to make her beholden to him for it. Which hardly mattered, because in just a few weeks, everything she owned would belong to him regardless—or so decreed the law.
He had gone to apply for a license some hours earlier, when first she had gone to sleep. And having secured it, he’d gone to inform his mother of his impending nuptials. She had been at once delighted and horrified—delighted that he had managed to secure Jenny’s acceptance; horrified that she would have to arrange a wedding in only a few short weeks. And shewould, because he hadn’t the slightest idea of what was expected of weddings, and he doubted that Jenny had much more interest in one than to show up and get it over with.
But Mum had been relatively certain she could arrange a very simple wedding three weeks hence. On a Sunday, as Sebastian had requested. At the very least, he could expect to have his bride’s attention on their wedding night—at least until midnight.
The light had begun to fade, stripping the world of color as the sun descended behind the rooftops. Jenny had slept longer than he had expected, but then he supposed she was more lethargic than usual. Carrying a baby was no easy task, or so he was given to understand.
And so she slept straight through until evening, and even the lamp he’d lit to read by had not disturbed her. But eventually shehadawakened, her brows pinching to find him seated there, so close to her bedside.
“You needn’t have stayed,” she said, shoving herself up onto her elbows and swiping her loose hair away from her face.
“I wanted to,” he said. “I did go out for a bit earlier. To secure a license, and to ask my mum to help arrange a wedding.”
“Leaving me alone in your house yet again.” Her nose twitched with the beginnings of a pique. Her hand slapped at the side of the bed, searching for her discarded gown, which he had folded and set upon a chair across the room while she slept.
“There’s no harm in it. It’ll be your house, too, soon enough.” He ignored the disdainful little snort she issued. “Otherwise, I’ve just been reading. There’s a…dearth of readily available literature on pregnancy. I’ve sent away for some things, but I’ve had to make do in the meantime.”
Her head tilted to examine the title of the book laid across his knee. “Veterinary Sciences?” she said incredulously.
“Notideal,” he admitted. “But the principle is the same.”
“It is not!”
Her outrage was charming; he hid a smile behind his hand. “How is it different?”
“I’m not a damnedgoat, and I don’t intend to give birth to anything withhooves!” A sour expression flittered across her face, but whether it was from annoyance or nausea, he could not be certain.
He crossed one ankle over the other, settled back more comfortably. “I’m certain there’s at leastsomeadvice that might be common across species,” he said. “Keeping the mother calm and comfortable, for instance.”
A snort; she dodged the swipe of Charlie’s tongue as she made for the opposite side of the bed. “I shall take that under advisement,” she said acidly, “for when I am delivered of a litter ofpiglets.” She snatched for the bundle of fabric folded upon the chair, hooking her fingers through the loosed laces of her stays. That much she secured, but the dress slid from the chair onto the floor in a coolwhiskof fabric and took her petticoats with it, leaving only the stays dangling from her fingers.
“Perhaps you leave the stays off,” he suggested. “They cannot be comfortable with your—er—”
