Page 55 of A Duke's Lustful Portrait
Sebastian had not only noticed, but it had driven him wild with jealousy. He could say nothing,donothing, for as far as thetonwere aware, they were nothing to one another, passing acquaintances at best. Yet he felt with a growing certainty that she belonged to him. Seeing her dancing, laughing, talking with other men had left him reeling and all the more determined to make her his own, regardless of what might happen with her father.
He dropped his voice to a whisper. “I notice everything to do with you, Arabella. My desire for you has enslaved me.”
“In that case,” she replied, turning fully to him as the pianist signalled the next set, “we ought not waste your servitude. I believe that is our cue.”
She held her hand out to him, and he took it, leading her onto the dance floor. With her on his arm, his chest puffed with pride. For once, hewantedpeople to look at him, at them.
The set was a waltz, allowing Sebastian and Arabella to dance together and closely. As he placed his hand on her hip, energy buzzed between them, electrifying him to his core. He held his breath, allowing the sensation to wash through him before they began to move in time to the music.
“It feels good not to hide in the shadows,” he said.
“We don’t need to hide in the shadows when we’re not doing anything wrong, Your Grace.”
“Indeed,” he leaned in and whispered, “but doing something wrong is so enjoyable at times, don’t you agree?”
She gave him a weak smile, then turned away, looking pointedly at the wall. Sebastian frowned, a pinch in his chest telling him something was wrong.
Didn’t she enjoy her time with me?
He cleared his throat and looked across the room, his mind racing for some way to make it right again, to make it as easy as it had been.
“It was a pleasure to make the acquaintance of the Elliots this week,” he said. “Having spent so much time abroad, I’m afraid to say I know so few of the nobility here in England.”
“They are a friendly family,” Arabella replied, though her tone was uninterested and overly polite. “Their daughter, Rachael, was a friend of mine when we were children. She’s married to the Duke of Edgware now.”
“I see.”
She replied to him as if he were indeed the stranger that everyone thought he was. It was non-descript, amicable but plain, lacking in the colour he knew her to have. She had paled herself, and he didn’t know why.
He paused for a long moment, dancing in uncomfortable silence, until he finally said, “Lady Arabella, is everything all right?”
She turned sharply to face him, meeting his gaze for the first time since their dance had begun.
“Speaking of doing things that arewrong,” she said, her tone harsh, “I know my father will task you with something sinister.”
“What?” He blinked, taken aback by her words. “I don’t—”
“I am no fool, Sebastian. I know what goes on in the Lord’s Society and what it takes to become a full member.”
Her words were cold and hard against the jollity of the music, and Sebastian felt his two worlds collide. She had been there every second of the way, of course, but he had, until now, somehow managed to separate them in his mind—his beautiful Arabella was so far removed from his quest for revenge. He wanted her to have no part in what he would do to ensure his success, even if it was only knowledge of it.
“Ah yes, the tests of loyalty,” he said with a measure of humour that he hoped would lift the mood of the conversation. “It’s like something in a Gothic novel, isn’t it?”
“I don’t want you to go through with it,” she said plainly. “Whatever it is, I don’t want you to do it.”
He swallowed hard. Edward had not yet told him who he must kill nor when, and his mind had been reeling with thoughts of it ever since his task was revealed to him. He didn’t want to kill anyone, not even Sinclair. He was no murderer, and neither did he ever want to be—and he certainly didn’t want Arabella thinking of him as such.
He felt dirty enough already, tainted by the Lord’s Society and all they did there. In some ways, it was no different from the crime syndicate he had belonged to as a child, yet in other ways, it was so much worse. At least The Gentlemen never pretended to be anything but paupers fighting for survival and perhaps, if they were lucky, a little luxury now and then. However, the members of the Lord’s Society already had wealth and power.
They had a choice, and they paraded as upstanding, moral gentlemen when, in fact, they were nothing of the sort. He had stolen in the name of The Gentlemen—petty theft and minor crimes—and he had garnered quite a name for himself within the gang, but never had he been tasked with hurting someone.
When Edward had told him what was expected of him, he had panicked. He wanted nothing to do with it, but he couldn’t act on his plan yet. He wasn’t ready. Time was running out, but he still didn’t knowwhyEdward had murdered his mother, and that was of the utmost importance.
He suspected it was this rite of passage that Edward was subject to the same test of loyalty, but he had no evidence. He needed more time and would wait until the last possible moment before acting rashly.
“Arabella,” he replied softly. “I understand your concerns. Honestly, I do. But I have no choice. I must do as your father asks, or I shall never be made a full member of the Lord’s Society.”
“And why should you want to?” she cried, exasperated by his replies. “Why would a good man such as yourself want to be a part of such an organization? Sebastian, please, denounce your membership. Show your true worth.”
