Page 46 of Passion Painted in a Lady's Heart
“Sebastian, what’s happened?” his stepmother said, entering the room a few moments later.
The butler had summoned her, even as Sebastian had hoped to avoid her knowing of this new and unsettling turn of events.
“It’s nothing. A stitch, perhaps. I’ll be all right. They’re bringing me some chamomile tea,” Sebastian said, trying to sit up, even as another stabbing pain shot through him.
“Don’t try to move. Just lie there. We’ll send for the doctor,” she said, and Sebastian protested.
He did not want a doctor. He just wanted to be left alone. The pain would pass, but his stepmother was insistent.
“I don’t need a doctor,” he said, but she shook her head.
“You do. I won’t hear any objections. Besides, I don’t want your uncle thinking I don’t care, do I?” she said.
Sebastian stared at her in astonishment, thinking for a moment he had misheard her. His Uncle Julian, his father’s brother, had not been seen at Southbourne House in years. The two brothers were estranged in their youth, and not even the death of the former earl had brought Julian back to the ancestral home.
Forgetting the pain for a moment, Sebastian sat up, watching as his stepmother opened the drawing-room door. To Sebastian’s utmost surprise, his uncle now entered the room. There could be no mistaking him. He had the same furrowed brow, the same narrow eyes, the same hawk-like nose.
“I’m sorry to hear you’re suffering, Sebastian,” his uncle said, stepping forward, as Sebastian struggled to rise to his feet.
He had not seen his uncle since he was fifteen years old, and now he could not help but wonder why he should return after all these years. The dispute with Sebastian’s father had been over money, and Sebastian could only imagine his uncle had returned for the same purpose.
“It’s just…it’s nothing. I’ve been out walking this morning,” Sebastian said, though it was a pitiful excuse, his stomach still aching from unexplained pain.
His uncle did not look convinced.
“Your stepmother tells me you’ve not been well. Are you sure you should be out of bed?” he said.
Sebastian furrowed his brow, confused why his uncle had come to Southbourne House that day. There had been no invitation, and Sebastian would rather have continued to pretend he did not have an uncle. His father had always spoken of his brother as a troublemaker, but the exact details of their falling out had never become fully clear.
“I’m all right,” Sebastian said, glancing at his stepmother, who smiled sympathetically at him.
“I’ve been worried about you, Sebastian. I asked your uncle to come here in the hope of reconciliation. You need help,” she said.
Sebastian had no wish for reconciliation. The last he had heard of his uncle, he was pursuing business ventures in the colonies, and his return was nothing if not unsettling. Sebastian did not want his business discussed in such a way, and certainly not by his stepmother, who had already caused him problems with Lady Helena.
“I don’t need help, Victoria,” he replied, snapping at her, even as he tried to control his temper.
“It’s all right, Sebastian. I only want to help. That’s all. I know you’re worried about what happened to your father. I watched my own father suffer the madness he inherited. I know what’s coming,” he said.
Sebastian stared at him in astonishment. Was he convinced of what was to come? The footman now brought in the cup of chamomile tea, but Sebastian wanted something stronger, and he poured himself a glass of brandy from a decanter on the sideboard.
“No one knows what’s coming,” Sebastian said, shaking his head, even as he himself had had the same thoughts.
He feared the worst, and the pain in his stomach was surely another symptom of what was to come. His forgetfulness, the way his passions were so suddenly seized, his fear of the future…all of it pointed to one thing. Madness.
“But you must be prepared, Sebastian. I can help you. There’re things we can do to stem the inevitable tide,” his uncle said, as Sebastian poured himself another brandy.
“I just want to be left alone. That’s all. There’s nothing else to be done. I don’t need you here,” Sebastian said, even as he knew he was being churlish and rude.
But to hear nothing from his uncle for years, then suddenly to be faced with him there in the drawing room, was too much.
“I never trusted my brother,” Sebastian’s father had once said, and Sebastian did not trust him now, either.
“Julian, I’m sorry. He’s not himself. I’m sure it won’t be long before the doctor arrives,” Sebastian’s stepmother said, but his uncle waved his hand dismissively.
“It’s quite all right, Victoria. I didn’t expect to be welcome with open arms. But I hope the two of us can approach a reconciliation, Sebastian. I’ve stayed away out of respect for your father’s memory. But the quarrel was never ours, was it?” he said, and Sebastian was forced to admit it was not.
But Sebastian knew his own father to be an excellent judge of character, and he and Sebastian’s uncle would not have fallen out had it not been over a serious matter.
