He’d fished the ladies out of the fountain and sent them home, both disappointed not to be staying. He blamed his lack of interest on being interrupted by the widow he now watched.In all honesty, Sebastian wasn’t sure if she was the cause. Even though he’d been charming to the ladies, he’d not been elated to see them. Lady Hensley grabbed her son who hid behind a bush. “I’ve got you!”
Her son laughed. He didn’t appear much older than six or seven. “Now, your turn, Mother.”
She smiled and shook her head. “I think I need a rest. Why don’t you play with your ball for a bit.”
The boy shrugged and ran over to the ball, kicking it against the wall between their gardens. Sebastian studied her more. She looked so matronly this morning, with a muted brown day dress and her hair tied back severely at her nape. Was the woman trying to appear older?
Sebastian flipped his pocket watch open and closed, causing his man-of-affairs, Curtis, to sigh. He held back his laughter. The sound Sebastian’s habit made drove him crazy. He walked to the door, and Curtis glanced up from his ledger. “Shall I follow you?”
He shook his head. “No, I will only be a moment.”
Sebastian headed to his terrace doors and walked through his garden to the metal gate between their yards. Gone were most of the vines, and he could see the lady and her son quite clearly. He wanted to apologize and make sure she was fine. He pushed the gate open, and the boy grinned at him. “You’re our neighbor.”
Lady Hensley stood, shocked to see him. Sebastian smiled at her but turned back to the boy. “I am.”
“What is your name?”
“It’s Sebastian Devons.”
“Hello, Sebastian. I’m Robert.”
“Robert, you are to address him as Mr. Devons,” Lady Hensley said firmly.
Sebastian glanced at her, once again startled at how different she seemed today. “Your mother is right, and I should address you as Lord Robert.”
The boy scrunched up his nose but moved on to the next topic. “Do you want to play ball with me?”
“I’m sure Mr. Devons has more important things to do,” Lady Hensley said before he could speak.
Sebastian winked at the boy. “I think I have some time to spare, but if it’s fine with you, I would like to speak with your mother first.”
Lord Robert’s face lit up. Sebastian glanced at his mother, who appeared sad for a moment, but quickly replaced her expression with the unemotional, serene look that most ladies of thetonhad mastered. The boy kicked his ball down a garden path as Sebastian made his way over to Lady Hensley. She flushed.
“My lady, I wish to apologize for last night.”
She shook her head. “There is no need. I was somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be.”
“Why were you there?” he asked.
The flush deepened. She shrugged. “I’m not sure, but don’t worry, it won’t happen again.”
His eyes roamed over her, and he had the insane thought to tell her she was welcome anytime. He was going mad. Lady Hensley was not his type. Moral paragons of London society did not appeal to him. He only had two aversions when it came to spending time with women. Overly proper was one of them.
The other was insincerity. He suspected the reason the situation with Lilah affected him so much was because he hadn’t seen the fakeness in her until the end. He’d been charmed by her. He didn’t mind a good time but appreciated frankness from his partners. She’d toyed with him.
Yet as he studied Lady Hensley, his body stirred. Annoyed at his reaction, he begrudgingly thought his brother may be right. He was partaking in too much vice and spending too much time at the Den. Lord Robert laughed, and she glanced his way. Sebastian caught sight of her lace cap. He frowned, irritated that she wore the thing.
“Why do you wear that piece of lace fabric in your hair?”
She gasped, startled. “That isn’t your concern.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, confused by his actions. “You have lovely hair. You shouldn’t hide it.”
Her flush that had never gone away was now the deep red shade of a strawberry. “You are mistaken.”
“No, I have seen it twice now. Once at the Den and last night.”
She glared at him, and his eyes flicked down upon her. She was a petite but curvy woman. He started to wonder about what was under her practical, muted dress when the realization of what he was doing hit him. Christ! She was not for him and, again, not his type. He pushed the strange thoughts from his mind. “Please disregard my remarks. I shouldn’t have said that.”
