Page 62 of A Marriage of Convenience with a Rake
“Come on, Bastien,” his aunt said, more softly. “We need to get to Waddingham House. I have something urgent to discuss.”
Sebastian nodded, keeping his questions to the side for the moment. “Yes, Aunt,” he said humbly.
“Good.”
She led the way, hurrying along the pavement, striding with immense and unexpected energy towards her London home. Sebastian, who was practically passing out with tiredness, did his best to keep up with her and she patiently slowed, waiting for him at the corner before hurrying off again. The black mantle that she wore over her gown was easy to spot among the pale sandstone buildings around them.
They reached the stairs that led up to Waddingham House, and Sebastian followed his aunt closely, slowing as she slowed to draw breath near the top. Waddingham House was a tiny, three-floor townhouse, sandwiched between two much larger townhouses that all looked out onto an elegant, cobbled street. It had just two rooms on each floor, with the kitchen in the cellar and a room for one maid to lodge there in the attic. Sebastian waited for Aunt Tessa to open the door and then followed her indoors.
The small townhouse was well-lit and well-tended, and he blinked and looked about, focusing on the unusual floor-tiles in the entrance, and the white-painted walls. It was all quite conventional-seeming at first, but then when one entered Aunt’s drawing room upstairs, it became entirely unconventional-seeming.
The drawing room was, as it had been for years, decoratedwith Oriental rugs and Chinese porcelain on the mantelpiece, with the table made of mahogany wood and elegant eastern-inspired lamps. Aunt’s father had been an explorer, and many of the pieces in the house had been his. Sebastian looked around, feeling at home despite his weariness. Aunt’s house was unconventional enough to be a little uncomfortable, but it was somewhere he had visited often throughout his life, and for that reason it felt familiar and welcoming.
“Now,” Aunt said, ringing the bell in the corner to summon the butler. “We have a matter of great importance to talk about. Sit down, please,” she added, gesturing him to a Turkish Ottoman chair.
He wanted to ask his aunt how she could possibly have found him in London, but before he could say anything, the butler appeared, and Aunt turned to him in the doorway.
“Tea, please, Mr. Jackson. And some cake too.”
“At once, my lady,” the butler agreed, bowing low. A tall, thin man with black hair, he had worked for Aunt as long as Sebastian could recall.
“Now,” Aunt said, turning to Sebastian. “I have to discuss a very urgent matter with you. It has been weighing on my mind for weeks now.”
“Sorry, Aunt,” Sebastian said at once. She was giving him a reproachful look. “But, how by all of Perdition did you find me?”
“Such things have a way of organising themselves,” Aunt said lightly.
Sebastian looked inquiringly at her. He wondered, sometimes, if Aunt really did have some kind of arcane gift. She did have an uncanny way of being right about some things. In any case, she was in London, and he was too, and he had ignored her letter for too long. He leaned back and waited for her to continue.
“Tea, my lady. My lord,” the butler murmured.
Sebastian and Aunt Tessa waited for the butler to pour the tea and unpack the tea-trolley. Aunt Tessa looked impatient.
“Now,” she said again when the butler had wandered out of the room. “I have an urgent matter to discuss. You must promise me that you will take what I say in earnest. It is no lighthearted matter.”
“Of course, Aunt,” Sebastian said at once. His aunt held his gaze for a moment, but he was sincere in his intent to take whatever she said seriously. He was tired, and it was hard to focus, the room blurring and pulsing around him with his weary eyes and pounding headache.
“I need to discuss the curse.”
She paused, and when Sebastian cleared his throat, wanting to beg her not to mention it, she held up a hand.
“I need to. It is important. You must let me tell you—it is important.”
“Of course, Aunt,” Sebastian said softly. “Please, continue.” He bit his lip, aching to say something different. He hated the idea of it, the very mention of it. He did not want to believe it, and yet everyone around him insisted on doing just thatdespite his discomfort.
“Well, then,” Aunt continued. “I need to tell you that the curse started two generations back. In the time of my great-grandfather. Your great-great-great-grandfather.”
“Oh.” Sebastian frowned. He had never heard mention of the curse and how it began. He had thought it some wild family story, one with no clear starting point in any remembered account. He tilted his head, interested in spite of his discomfort and skepticism.
“Yes. Your great-great-great-grandfather was an explorer, too, like my papa. He traveled the seas, collecting bounty to bring back to England. He made quite a fortune, and with it he bought one or two of the properties that the family owns evennow. But, besides that,” she added, waving her hand as though none of that was interesting, “he started a shipping company. In order to fund his venture, he involved the assistance of a particular gentleman who, likewise, had an adventurous soul and an idea of creating wealth and prosperity. This man invested a great deal in the shipping venture.” She paused. “Your great-great-great-grandfather, however, was an ambitious man, and, when it came to a risky voyage, he took only the ship that this gentleman had invested in. He did not want to risk his own, you see. The ship sank. All the money was lost. And your great-great-great grandfather lost nothing. The man he had involved was left with nothing.”
“No,” Sebastian murmured. He stared at the fireplace, imagining the ship being caught in the storm, tossed on the waves. And his great-great-great-grandfather, sitting at home, losing nothing.
“Yes.” His aunt paused. “He thought he could turn his back on the fellow, and not recompense him in any way; using his noble rank of Marquess to get away with it. But he did not realise something.”
“What was that, Aunt?” Sebastian asked, caught up in the tale.
“The man had an aunt,” Aunt Tessa continued. She raised one brow. “And she was descended of a Romany bloodline. She had a gift, a mystic gift. And she could curse people.”
