Sebastian’s shoulders stiffened, and his mouth drew into a grim line. “I have my connections.”
“That answer is not good enough. Not right now. Not when I am the one to suffer the consequences of your meddling.”
“Phoebe.” The Duke reached for her. “You sound as if you are sorry to see Lord Birchwood led away in shackles.”
“No!” she cried. “No, I amrelieved.But I am dreading who might take his place. And I am so overwhelmed by everything that is happening. How did you know about him? About his debts, his business?”
His jaw tightened “It does not matter. I do not want you to concern yourself.”
Phoebe let out a bitter laugh. “I am far past that, considering I am—was? Perhaps still am—his betrothed.”
“You are not.” Sebastian said that with so much conviction she felt inclined to believe it. “Not anymore.”
“Do not give me such hope,” she whispered. “Because I cannot let myself have even that.”
He took a step closer to her. “Why not?”
“You know why not.” She looked over his shoulder, in the direction of the ballroom, as if she might see her parents watching her. “You warned me about him, why?”
She pulled her gaze back to him.
“I care for you, Phoebe. I could not let you let the lies grow so thick around you that you could no longer see the truth.”
“And what is the truth?” Phoebe demanded. Her voice had become rather shrill, but she did not lower it or try to temper her anxiety. She simply stared at Sebastian and implored him to be honest with her. “Tell me one real, true thing, Sebastian. Anything. So long as you deal with me justly.”
“Very well.” Sebastian looked up at the moon.
Silvery beams fell upon his handsome face, and Phoebe nearly wept at the sight of him. She backed away so that he stood on one side of the pillar, while she occupied the other.
“Ah…” he said slowly. “Are we to play Pyramus and Thisbe again?”
“Yes,” she gulped. “I have learned that being honest is often easier when one can hide behind a curtain of anonymity.”
Sebastian grabbed her hand and pulled her close to his chest. He lifted her chin using the tip of his finger. When her gaze met her own, she saw truth shining in them.
“I do not want to hide, Phoebe. Not from you.”
“Then tell me,” she urged. “Tell me something honest.”
“I am Lord Spencer,” he said. Quickly, his eyes darted back and forth, and she could tell that he was searching her expression and trying to read her reaction.
“You…?”
“Yes,” he whispered. “I host soirees, masquerades, and scandalous parties under that name.”
“But why?” Phoebe begged to know. “Why do you hide?”
“Why do you?” he countered. “I promised you the other day that I would listen to your words. I would always hear what you had to say. Now it is your turn to tell me the truth, Phoebe. Why did you spend most of your life in the country? Why, when you are scared or timid, do you clutch at the necklace your grandfather gave you?”
“My grandfather was the only person who ever showed me an ounce of affection. He raised me when my parents could not stand the sight of me. And every time I fell, he was there to pick me up again.” She sniffled. “My grandfather died years ago, but his memory lives in me still. Even though I was miserable after he passed on, anytime I returned to the countryside I felt far better than when I was forced to be with my mother and father.”
“Do you long for the country now?” Sebastian asked.
Phoebe shook her head slowly and wriggled slightly in his arms. “I think I am meant to be here… now. But I know this moment with you cannot last.”
“Why?”
“My parents will not let me choose. Even as we speak, it is possible that they are scouring that ballroom for other suitors, begging someone to marry me, to make me their wife, to…”
