Page 66 of A Duke's Lustful Portrait
“Do you really think so?” Arabella looked up at her with wide, hopeful eyes.
Priscilla nodded. “We are going to get you away from here and from your father, one way or another. And then you will see your whole life ahead of you. If this Duke of Ravenswood has chosen debauchery and depravity over love and honesty, then you are truly better off without him.”
Arabella looked down at her fingers and nodded. She agreed with everything her grandmother said, and still, something in her pinched at her chest and told her all was not as it seemed. That hewouldcome. If only she knew how to pick at that thread and pull it until it all made sense.
“I just wish I had seen the true Sebastian before I allowed myself to fall in love,” she said, opening her heart. “I thought I knew him so well. I would have sworn he would never choose my father. He near enough promised me such, telling me he cared nothing for Father.”
Priscilla put her arm around Arabella’s shoulders and pulled her into an embrace. “Sometimes, men will say anything to get what they want.”
“You’re right,” Arabella replied. She rested her head on Priscilla’s shoulder. “Thank you.”
Priscilla kissed the top of her head. “Now, why don’t you read a while?”
With a weak smile, Arabella nodded and picked up the novel she had discarded on the floor. She let her grandmother’s words play in her head. She knew men tended to lie when they wanted something—she had heard the horror stories and now, perhaps, had been victim to it. But that made her question Sebastian’s actions now.
He had been hiding something since the day they had met. She’d known it all along, and though she had once or twice tried to prise information from him, she had been unsuccessful. What was it he truly wanted? Her? Perhaps, but she felt it was something else, something different. Something darker. If she could work that out, she was certain she could reach him and pull him back to her.
Priscilla returned to her embroidery and said, “Your father is having something of a gathering this evening.”
“Oh?”
Arabella had heard nothing of the arrangements and wondered why she had not been required to attend. She was rarely given permission to rest when her father had people to impress.
“I believe your young man will be in attendance,” Priscilla continued, her entire focus seemingly on her needlework. “As much as I know you want to see him, Arabella, I advise you stay away. Seeing him will only make it more difficult for you.”
“Why are you telling me then?” Arabella frowned at her grandmother, her thumb wedged between the pages of her book to hold her place.
“Because forewarned is forearmed,” Priscilla replied. “And because you are both old enough and wise enough to make your own decisions. And, of course, this way, you know to avoid the dining room.”
The dining room?
Arabella’s heart raced.It must be tonight!It made perfect sense. This was the night when her father would reveal what terrible act Sebastian would have to commit. This was the night after which there would be no turning back. Sebastian had one last choice to make, and she could only pray it would be the right one.
She didn’t answer her grandmother. Instead, she let the book fall to the floor again, and she dashed from the room. The dining room was across the house—past the study and the library, the ballroom, and the entrance hall. She ran, her gown trailing out behind her, her hair falling from its pins, desperate to catch him in time. If he saw, perhaps he would see sense. Perhaps he would realize what a fool he had been.
As she rounded the corner, hand on the wall to steady herself, she saw him, seemingly as hurried as she was. His cheek was red with blood, the gash sore and fresh. Arabella stopped suddenly, her mouth gaping open.
Am I too late?
His eyes met hers, but instead of love, she saw hatred and fury, and it frightened her. She took a step backwards. He said nothing, did nothing, but brushed past her, his shoulder shoving her roughly out of his way. She spun around, watching his retreating back for a long moment before deciding to go after him.
“Sebastian, wait! Please, what’s happened?”
He didn’t turn around nor speak; instead, he stepped into the entrance hall, his footsteps loud on the marble. Gibbs stood at the entrance to the butler’s room, a look of sheer confusion across his face, but Arabella paid him no heed, running after the man she loved.
“Sebastian!”
He didn’t wait for the butler’s assistance, instead yanking open the double doors and throwing them against the wall. He began to trot down the steps, but the time it had taken him to get outside had given Arabella an advantage, and she was close behind him now.
“Please, Sebastian, wait!”
She grabbed hold of his arm, and he paused. Her heart leapt with hope and possibility. But when he turned around, his eyes were dark. She couldn’t read him, her eyes searching his face for something, some remnant of the intimacy they had shared.
“Seb—”
“Leave me alone,” he growled.
She reached up to touch his cheek, the shock of red growing there panicking her. No matter what he had done, she still couldn’t bear to see him hurt.
