When he mentioned proposing, she’d laughed and said she couldn’t marry the by-blow of a lord. It was beneath her. He’d been a damn fool, thinking the dowager viscountess would wed him. Yet for a moment, he believed that they had something more. That she thought he was worthy of more.
He pulled his watch out again, flicking back and forth between the back case and the front case. Not really looking at the words but needing something to do. A sharp pain sliced across his chest, and he rose, moving to the table where brandy and glasses waited. He poured some into a glass. His brother made a disapproving sound, and Sebastian turned. “Don’t judge me, brother.”
Malcolm frowned at him with concern. “I don’t. I worry about you. She—”
“I have no desire to talk about her,” he said harshly.
Malcolm pressed his lips together and studied him silently. Finally, he said, “Don’t stay cooped up here. She isn’t worthy of this punishment you are inflicting on yourself. Never leaving the Den, that is.”
Annoyance flashed through Sebastian. “I do other things. You and I are involved in multiple ventures that have nothing to do with the Den.”
“Yes, but if we are honest, your focus lately on anything but the Den, liaisons, and drinking has been minimal. You are drawing yourself into vice to forget her. Acknowledge the pain she caused you and move on.”
Sebastian’s lips twisted into a smirk. Lilah hurt him, and he’d been a fool to think her affection for him was more than an affair. It had been rash of him to assume she didn’t care about status because she was a wealthy childless widow. He didn’twant to think about any of that and pushed the thoughts away, focusing on his brother. Who the hell was Malcolm to judge? He was his partner in this very building of vice they were sitting in. “Are you judging our club now that you are married? Too much sin for your liking?”
Malcolm glared at him. “I care about the club. I built it with you from nothing and I’m honored to be part owner with you. All I’m saying is it would do you good to take a break from it. We could hire some gentleman in need of money or a merchant looking to chat with some lords to keep people entertained. It doesn’t have to be you every night.”
They recently had this discussion more than once. Sebastian couldn’t fathom hiring men who likely had the world handed to them and wasted it to take his place.
As if reading his mind, his brother said, “They wouldn’t replace you, but it would give you the ability to venture out. I can’t remember the last time you stayed at your townhouse in Mayfair or left London?”
Sebastian rubbed the back of his neck, staying silent, not wanting to confirm his brother’s points.
“Just think about it, is all I’m saying. There is more to life than ruling the Den all night, taking a companion home for a couple of hours, sleeping, and then starting all over again. You know that, Sebastian. Snap out of this wallowing or whatever it is.”
Sebastian scowled at him. “I’m not wallowing.”
His brother snorted. “Removing the topic of Lady Wesley, I would like to see you outside of this place more. Is that so much to ask?”
Sebastian sighed. “Understood. Let’s move on. Hopefully, this isn’t the only reason you came to see me today.”
Malcolm shook his head. “I wanted to talk about the Ball of Misdeeds and who the final invitees are.”
Rising, Sebastian moved to the large bookshelves that contained their business papers, books, and ledgers. He grabbed a book with the list of invitees and turned back.
Malcolm was still frowning at him. “You will think about what I said?”
Tired of his brother’s concern, he nodded even though he wasn’t going to do anything of the sort. “Of course.”
Chapter Two
Diana sat upin her bed and frowned. A feminine laugh filtered through her bedroom window followed by a louder one. She pursed her lips wondering where it came from. She lay back down, telling herself it had nothing to do with her. It could only be coming from the townhouse behind hers.
Years ago, Sebastian Devons, owner of a scandalous club and half-brother to the Marquess of Derry, purchased it. At the time, all her neighbors had been up in arms about someone with his reputation buying a home in the heart of Mayfair, but eventually, they settled down. Her mind flashed to the one time she’d met him. Almost ten years had passed, but she still remembered and appreciated his kindness.
A loud splash and shrill laughter caused her to sit up again. She should go back to sleep but knew she wouldn’t. She climbed out of bed and pulled her wrap on before quietly making her way downstairs and to the drawing room. Once in the room, she reached for the handle of the door, leading out to the terrace. She hesitated and frowned. Why was she going outside? It had nothing to do with her.
It was so late it was almost morning. Even the fire the servants kept going in the hearth had gone out. Ladies didn’t wander around in the dark by themselves, she told herself. Yet she was tired of doing what ladies should. She twirled the brown braid hanging over her shoulder. She imagined her hair looked a mess. It always fell out while she slept. She was a restlesssleeper. Stuart used to joke that she never woke up in the same spot she went to bed in.
She pulled the door open, and the sound of more feminine laughter and splashing drifted towards her. A deep, rich, masculine voice rang out, but she couldn’t understand precisely what the man said. Pushing aside her practical thoughts, she walked down the terrace steps into the garden courtyard.
“Come, my lovelies. Out of the fountain,” the man cajoled.
“You said you were not staying at the Ball of Misdeeds, so we thought we would bring the fun to you.”
Diana glided past her own fountain in the middle of her garden to hear better. Thick vines covering the ornate fence between her townhouse and the one behind hers blocked any possibility of a view, but she was confident the man was Devons. His club’s success had only grown, and they now hosted two scandalous annual balls. From gossip, she knew the Ball of Misdeeds was one of them.
A memory of him wiping her tears during their carriage ride years ago appeared in her mind. It had been a crazy night, but he’d been correct. Clara had been found the very next day, and the man who had taken her was paying for his dastardly deeds.
