First, he must get out of this damned sick bed and into a decent suit of clothes. Then, he would track her down and apologize for his clumsy attempt at seduction. He would court her properly, laying his title, his wealth and his heart at her feet. Their wedding would be the talk of theton, the standard by which all other ceremonies were measured. And so would be their union, filled with laughter and children and pleasure she had not yet imagined.
He had but to find her and explain.
Chapter Four
One year later
Sebastian sat in his usual chair at White’s, enjoying a morning coffee, with nothing to look forward to but another idle day in London. He picked up the copy ofThe Timeswaiting on the table beside him, giving the headlines his usual, cursory viewing. Then the gossip columns. And finally, when he was sure that no one was observing him, he moved on to the personal column to be sure that his ad still ran.
Cassie: I have nothing but regret for the unfortunate way we parted. If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, write to me at my London address. Ease my suffering and all that I am shall be yours. W
There had been no response in all the months that had passed. But neither had there been any communication that would make him stop searching. When he’d recovered, he’d checked every hospital and private agency that supplied nurses and found no sign of her. He’d searched church rolls and school rosters, and made discreet inquiries amongst the merchants and cits looking for one who might have had business dealings with him and had an unmarried daughter. It had all been for naught.It seemed she’d appeared on his doorstep, out of nowhere, and returned to oblivion when she’d left him.
If he was of a more fanciful nature, he might have convinced himself that hers had been a truly angelic intervention and not a metaphorical one. The effect she’d had on him was nothing short of miraculous, healing his physical wounds and cutting through the dark fog that had enveloped his soul.
But angels gave blessings, not kisses. The woman he’d held was flesh and hot blood, and living in London. It was a large city, but not infinite. He would find her. Hope renewed, he set the paper aside and smiled, reliving the one kiss they’d shared and thinking of the ones to come.
‘What are you smiling at?’ Septon took the seat at his side and took the paper up again. ‘Have you done something worthy of recording in the tattle sheets?’
‘Nothing interesting,’ he replied, giving his friend a chilly nod of greeting. ‘My conscience is clean and has been for some time.’ Not that anyone had noticed. Compared to the dastard he’d been a year ago, he was practically a monk. At least Septon should give him some credit. Hadn’t he apologized for provoking their duel and forgiven the fellow for nearly killing him? Sebastian had been most magnanimous about the matter. They’d made up and were best friends again.
But now that he had married and had given up his own rakish ways, Septon seemed oblivious to anything but his own happiness. The few times Sebastian had seen him out in the evenings, he was accompanied by his wife, Portia. They flirted shamelessly with each other in public and left gatherings early and together as if they could not wait to be alone.
It was disgusting.
Now he was scanning down the same gossip column that Sebastian had perused, looking for himself. ‘I am just makingsure that there is proper mention of the come-out ball for my sister,’ he said with a satisfied nod.
‘Notifying the world to know she is on the market?’ Sebastian replied, arching his eyebrow. ‘Why don’t you just take her to Tattersalls and call the auctioneer?’
Septon responded with an equally cynical smile. ‘Because I love my sister and mean to treat her better than horseflesh. Although an auction would sort the fortune hunters out of the pack and save the hundreds of pounds that I’ve spent on the trappings of the Season. She is a very sensible girl and does not ask for much. But if this is to be done, I wish for it to be done well.’
Sebastian nodded in acknowledgement. Julian had only recently discovered his illegitimate sister, hidden in the country. To make up for his father’s neglect of her, he was taking great pains to see that she married well.
Now he was running his finger down the newspaper column, stopping on an item to give the paper an approving tap. ‘They’ve made a proper mention of the school we are raising funds for. It is to be both a charity event and her come-out ball. I have made her adoptive father, the Reverend Fisk, a headmaster there.’
‘That simply reeks of virtue,’ Sebastian said, giving a small shudder and making no effort to hide the sarcasm in his voice.
‘It was Portia’s idea,’ Septon replied, oblivious to the jibe. ‘She wishes thetonto focus on my sister’s proper upbringing and not the misfortune of her birth. She has remade me, as well. I am an upstanding member of the peerage now, and not the rakehell I was a year ago.’
‘Well done, you,’ he replied, wishing his coffee were something stronger.
‘I cannot recommend marriage enough. It has made me a new man.’
Sebastian was tempted to reply that horses were tamed after gelding. But since Septon was not yet expecting an heir, it might not have been well received. Instead, he said, ‘And this ball you speak of, it is tonight, is it not?’
‘Indeed,’ Septon said. ‘We have had to rent an assembly room for the evening. Portia is seeing to the decorations as we speak.’
‘I only mention it because I have not yet received an invitation,’ he replied.
This was followed by a pause that embarrassed them both. Then, Septon said, ‘We did not think you would be interested. It is going to be deadly dull. Such things usually are. You have complained about them in the past, you know.’
‘Indeed.’ A year ago, they had mocked such gatherings together. But things had changed for both of them, and it was another sign that his friend had not noticed the improvement in him.
‘You are welcome to attend, of course,’ Septon added.
But not to meet your sister.
Again, Sebastian was tempted to speak. He could remind his friend that the girl was a half-sister and born on the wrong side of the blanket. He was a duke, and more than a prime catch for the most eligible girls in England and far out of the reach of a by-blow, even if she was spawned by a peer and raised by a vicar.
