Page 141 of The Viscount's Seduction
Madam stepped up. “My Lord. Your neck cloth is ruined. Will you go now and change it?” Her eyes swept over him. “And perhaps your coats and shirt. Your valet is just in the other room. Madame Barton, please bring out your lovely golden dress. These blood stains are fresh. If Mademoiselle Jenny starts on them tonight, perhaps they may be removed. The slash we shall mend, as though it never happened, you will see. Bring a wet cloth for these new cuts, Jenny and another length of that ribbon. Please to stand now, and turn around, my lady.”
He left her in good hands and went down the hall to where the new, true heir of Glenmorrow was dressing.
Jocelyn had been lolling in a chair near the fire. She sat up when they entered.
“Is Hollister dead?” Bakeley asked.
“Yes.” She lifted her glass in a toast. “He’ll be discovered tomorrow, right after his treason is publicized. A suicide, don’t you know, though I’m not sure how they’ll explain the knife wound.”
“He fell backwards onto his sword while shooting himself in the head," Sirena’s brother said as he tied his neck cloth.
He did not entirely like Roland James Hollister, nor, he decided, Lady Arbrough. They were well matched.
"This was very troubling for Sirena,” he said. “I doubt she’s ever stabbed a man before.”
“Of course.” Jocelyn set down her glass. “Roland, we’re both too hard. We’ve seen too much. We’re sorry, Bakeley.”
“We?”
She pursed her lips and looked at Sirena’s brother.
“So, Glenmorrow, have you a wife somewhere in the Americas? It does matter to your sister.”
A glint of humor entered the man’s eyes. “You do love her. I’m happy for that. And no, I have no wife.”
“That will please Sirena.” It didn’t matter a whit to him, but he wanted Sirena’s happiness. “A wedding would please her even more. I’ll see you in the ballroom.”
He found his way back to his chamber where his valet was waiting and groaned. A wedding would make Lady Arbrough his sister-in-law.
Roland Hollister could take Jocelyn to America and keep her there. He and Sirena could find a good steward to run Glenmorrow for the man.
Sirena had finished changingher gown, freshening her face and tidying her hair when Bakeley barged in to retrieve her. He seemed angry. She was shaking with it herself.
After all they’d gone through, he’d held things from her.
“Here it is my lady.” Barton held the length of new ribbon for her to see. She’d stitched Gram’s Queen Brighid’s knot to the ribbon.
Her stomach fluttered as Barton fixed it around her neck, and she pressed a hand to her waist, the steel stays still firmly in place. Surely the good luck had been restored and ’twas safe to wear Gram’s charm.
“Are you well, Sirena?” Bakeley asked.
She fingered the quaternary knot. “I’ve lost your mother’s diamond brooch.”
“To hell with the brooch. At least I didn’t lose you.”
She let out a breath. “You’ve no need to shout atme.”
He looked at Barton and she hurried out.
“I’m not angry with you,” he said.
“What else are you not telling me?”
He led her into the corridor and stopped on the landing, pulling her to him in a fierce, too short kiss. “I’m not angry with you.Blast this ball. I want it to be over. I want to well and truly ravage you tonight, Sirena, if you’ll allow it.”
A giggle bubbled up in her. She couldn’t hold onto the anger. Not tonight. She could still hear the music below, the orchestra blaring, the jumble of voices carrying up the stairs. Had they been back at Glenmorrow, the ballroom would have emptied and the guests would have been wagering about her survival. These English had gone on as if nothing had happened in the garden. “To hell with Jamie. Let’s go back to the bedchamber,” she whispered.
He kissed her then, a long passionate melding like he was taking her into his soul.
