Sebastian didn’t hesitate, springing into motion before the man could open his mouth again. As he wove through the crowd, the murmurings grew into whispers and then into open speculation as the audience began connecting the dots between the vocal gentleman amongst them and the actress frozen on stage. Perhaps they thought it part of the performance.
Perhaps this night could yet be salvaged.
Sebastian jostled his way into the row of benches where Quincy remained seated, apparently oblivious to the ruckus he was causing. His eye lit on Sebastian and brightened. “Ravensworth!”
And Sebastian realized in his rush to confront Quincy, he hadn’t properly considered the consequences of that action. All eyes swung around and landed on them, eager to follow this new development.
“I hadn’t the least prospect of sharing the same air as the illustrious Duke of Ravensworth when this night began!”
That well and truly put the final nail in the ruse.
The jig was up.
Quincy’s eyebrows drew together in sudden befuddlement. “But why are you dressed like a…like a…”
Sebastian silently willed the man not to speak whatever nonsense that was poised on the tip of his tongue.
“Like apeasant.”
If anything could turn a village crowd, it was that word.Right.Looks turned dirty and jeers grew louder as Sebastian grabbed Quincy by the arm and marched him out of harm’s way. Once safely beyond reach of a potential mob situation, Sebastian released the other man, who didn’t seem to comprehend the gravity of the situation.
Well, he would.
“Quincy, what are you doing here?” It had to be asked. Was no corner of England safe from this one supercilious nitwit?
Quincy tucked his thumbs into his waistcoat and rocked onto his toes. “Interestingly, a third cousin twice removed purchased an estate in the area and is having a shooting party. My invitation must’ve been lost in the post, but I do enjoy a day out in the marshes, so I decided to take it upon myself to accept the undelivered invitation and—”
Sebastian held up a silencing palm both imperious and pleading that Quincy immediately desist. The man looked to be settling in for a long explanation, and Sebastian hadn’t the time. “What you think you saw here tonight,” he said, getting straight to the main point, “you didn’t see.”
Quincy nodded, slowly, as if in understanding. Then he said, “What can you possibly mean? Of course, I saw what I saw. As a matter of fact, I’m seeing what I’m seeing right now. There is nothing wrong with my eyesight.” He puffed out his chest. “In fact, my eyesight is quite superior to anyone’s I’ve ever known. Which is precisely why I would be such a valuable addition to the shooting—”
Sebastian’s palm lifted again. The man was indefatigable. “What you saw tonight mustn’t reach the ears of London.”
“Ah, but London hears all.” Quincy shrugged, resigned. “Not much can be done about it.”
Oh, that was where the man was wrong. “There are only three ways news of this night could reach the ears of London. Through Lady Delilah, me, or you. Lady Delilah won’t be speaking of it. I sure as hell won’t. Which leaves but one route.”
“Oh?”
“You.”
“Me?”
“You.”
Sebastian had drawn himself up to his fullest, most intimidating height, which was a good half foot taller than the man before him. He might be clothed like a “peasant”—truly Quincy’s snobbery knew no bounds—but presently Sebastian was every inch the Duke of Ravensworth—with all the power and command the title conferred. A man destined to have his way. “Do you enjoy Society soirées, musicales, supper parties, balls… What have you?”
“Who doesn’t?”
“Do you enjoy being a member of thetonwho receives invitations to such gatherings?”
“Of course.”
“I thought so.”
Sebastian smiled, but his smile wasn’t such that it invited Quincy to join in with him. Instead, the man gulped.
Still, Sebastian didn’t think he’d made his point sufficiently clear. “If news of this night reaches London—ever—every last invitation goes away. You’ll become a pariah, and you’ll never receive another invitation as long as I draw breath. Is that clear enough for you?”
