Page 83 of His Mad Duchess
“I am not brooding,” Sebastian muttered.
Edward chuckled slightly, signaling for his own brandy. “No? Then what do you call sitting here glowering at a glass as though it insulted your family name?”
Sebastian smirked faintly. “I was considering drinking it.”
“By staring it into submission?” Edward leaned back, one brow cocked. “A bold new method. Do let me know if it succeeds; I’ve a rather stubborn bottle at home.”
Sebastian ran a hand through his hair, restless. “It is not working.”
Edward studied him a long moment, then said lightly, “I’ve known you to sometimes lose at cards, to lose at horses, and once—memorably—to lose your dignity in Lady Wrexham’s fountain. But I have never seen you lose to a brandy glass. What has you so undone?”
Sebastian scowled into his glass. “Go away, Edward.”
“Not likely.” Edward leaned back, surveying him. “So. What is this? A triumphant return to old habits? You swore you were done with all this, but here you are sulking among the dice-throwers.”
“I was done,” Sebastian muttered, pouring himself another measure. His hands shook slightly, though he prayed Edward had not noticed. “But then…” His throat closed. “But then my heart shattered.”
The words cracked like glass in the silence between them.
Edward’s eyes gleamed. “So, it is a woman.”
Sebastian’s head snapped back. “I did not say?—”
“You did not need to.” Edward took a slow sip of his brandy. “The great Duke of Ravenscourt, stripped of his wit, undone by silence? Only a woman could wreak such havoc.”
Sebastian’s hand curled on the glass. He tried to summon a careless retort, but the words lodged in his throat.
Edward leaned in, his tone softening beneath the banter. “Margaret. You care for her.”
Sebastian shut his eyes briefly. A muscle twitched in his cheek. “Care? Perhaps. Or perhaps I am merely a fool chasing shadows. Either way, the damage is the same.”
“You sound almost afraid,” Edward said.
Sebastian laughed bitterly. “Afraid? No. Concerned, perhaps. For her. For what my name, my family… my mother… might do to her. And yet… I cannot seem to let her go.”
Edward swirled his brandy. “Then you are trapped between pride and love. An old tale, that one.”
“I do not love her,” Sebastian snapped, too fast. His chest ached with the lie. “Not…” He broke off, staring into the fire. Not yet.God help me, perhaps not ever. But something holds me fast.
Edward tilted his head. “You might try convincing yourself a little harder. You almost sounded sincere.”
Sebastian let out a strangled laugh. “You are insufferable.”
“And you are transparent,” Edward returned smoothly. He leaned forward, voice steady. “So, what’s your plan? You plan to drown in brandy and smoke until you forget her? Chase every courtesan in London until she is but a memory? That was your life before. Did it ever bring you peace?”
Sebastian’s gaze flicked around the men roaring over dice, one slumped insensible in his chair, another weaving toward the door with his waistcoat askew. Once, he had been them. Once, he had gloried in it. Now, the sight repulsed him.
“No,” he admitted hoarsely. “It brought nothing but emptiness. And now…” He broke off, his chest tight, as though the truth itself might kill him. “Now emptiness is all I have left without her.”
Edward sat back, exhaling slowly. “Then find her. For God’s sake, Sebastian, stop wallowing, and go after her.”
Sebastian’s hands curled into fists on the table.Go after her. Drag her back. Pretend the wound she carries does not exist, that the shadows do not haunt her.The thought both terrified and electrified him.
“She does not want me,” he said at last, his voice low, ragged. “She has made that plain.”
Edward’s eyes narrowed. “And you believe her? Since when do you take words at face value? You’ve lied your way through a dozen scandals with a straight face; you of all men should know hearts do not speak so plain.”
Sebastian almost smiled. “Perhaps hers does.”
