Danbury’s estate, aptly named Land’s End, was located on the most southwesterly coast of England. Rising at sunup to experience the dawn of a new day, not to mention the awe of the view from this cliff’s edge, filled a man’s imagination with endless possibilities. Noting the white of distant cresting waves, Sebastian’s mind skipped to the design of his current project. As was his habit, he pulled his journal along with a small pencil from inside his coat and made a note before tucking it away.
“Skittish? Eh?” he resumed the conversation with his uncle.
Sebastian stared at the man who’d inadvertently caused his sleepless night. He’d not seen his uncle for nearly a year, but although George was nearing fifty, his appearance never seemed to change. The older gentleman possessed a firm chin and kept himself arguably more fit and trim than men considerably younger. Others who were around George’s age, who had married, that was, appeared far older with their paunches and bald heads.
Sitting proudly atop his horse, the wind in his face, dear Uncle George was an encouraging reminder of the benefits of bachelorhood.
Sebastian dug into a different pocket and then handed the velvet pouch that held the ring across the distance between their horses.
Taking it, George removed the heirloom carefully and held it up to the light. “Once I slide this onto her finger, she’ll not wish to take it off.” But George didn’t appear completely confident. Perhaps he did love Lady Asherton, after all.
George returned the ring to its pouch and then pocketed it before turning once again to gaze out at the unbroken view. “I find myself inclined to curtail a few of my less than gentlemanly activities these days. Believe it or not, young man, satisfying a variety of women eventually becomes tiresome.” He slanted Sebastian a sideways glance. “And quite costly.”
“I’d venture it’s the sneaking around that becomes tiresome, more so than the end goal,” Sebastian offered. He had never had to pay for a woman.TheysoughtSebastianout.He bought them gifts, of course, but only as a token of his appreciation.
What pleasure could be found knowing the woman did not wish to be the object of his lovemaking? “Married life ought to come in handy then.”
His uncle frowned. “Perhaps.” But then he lifted his chin. “It behooves a man to preserve an unsullied reputation, Rockingham. One never knows when his circumstances might turn.”
Sebastian stared across the sea. It was only slightly less blue than the sky. Was his uncle suggesting that Sebastian ought to keep his own activities less public? As the heir to a duke, Sebastian’s entitlement was unimaginable to most mortals—even to his uncle. The world would have to be turned upside down for that to change. He glanced at his uncle’s profile. Discretion was one thing, hypocrisy quite another. But for now, he would forgo arguing the point.
“Your Lady Asherton, she is a very…properlady, then?” The woman from last night could not be her.
“Indeed. She’ll make for a biddable wife. In addition to that, she is lovely, dignified, childless.” Ah, no baggage to cause George any inconvenient demands. “She accepted my offer two days ago, unofficially. I am anxious to make an announcement.”
If his uncle didn’t love the woman, then why? “You are wanting to set up your nursery then?” Perhaps his uncle wanted an heir—a son who would carry his name into the future. Although technically not a lord, George’s inherited estate was not insignificant.
The older man shrugged. “It isn’t necessary. Her first husband passed without issue. I’m not overly concerned with such. As I said, I’ll be satisfied to have her… companionship.”
“And to warm your bed on cold winter nights, eh?” Sebastian made one more attempt to satisfy his curiosity piqued by the woman the night before.
“Foolishness.” He sent Sebastian a stern look. “A refined gentleman doesn’t marry for such purposes. He marries a woman who’ll uphold his good name in society. You’ll do good to remember that when you marry again.”
Sebastian clenched his jaw. This was the one matter he would thwart his family on.
He had no intention of marrying anytime soon or even long into the future.
* * *
An onslaughtof sunlight filtered through Margaret’s consciousness, bringing her wide awake. When she opened her eyes, she found herself staring directly into her sister-in-law’s apologetic green ones.
“You!” Margaret accused without bothering with any niceties.
Penelope winced. “If it makes any difference to you at all, I’ve brought your chocolate myself. And fresh biscuits.”
Margaret rubbed the sleep from her eyes and then pushed herself up to sit against the pillows. Hours had passed before sleep came the night before. “You sent me to the wrong room!” she accused. The memory sent heat flooding up her neck.
“Tell me you discovered this before…”
“Of course, I did,” Margaret claimed emphatically. “I’m not stupid enough to climb into bed with a man who was not my intended.” Oh, but shehadbeen that stupid!
“It was his nephew. I didn’t even know he was coming until Mrs. Maples informed me this morning of his arrival late last night. Apparently, Mr. Kirkley preferred the room set aside for his lordship, and the young marquess gave it up and took his uncle’s instead.”
An honest mistake. Penelope could not help it if her guests played fast and loose with the rooms assigned them.
“His Lordship?” A marquess? But of course, George’s sister was married to the Duke of Standish.
Margaret squeezed her eyes together in an attempt to wash her memory of the previous night. It would be even better if she could turn back time. Margaret should not have allowed Penelope to encourage her thusly.
