‘Being a viscount is proving hard work?’
Sebastian raised his eyes heavenward. ‘It certainly involves work, mostly on myself—my attire, my deportment, my speech... I could go on.’
‘Well you look the part. I hardly recognised you. Face it, you were born to it, Bas. I always knew you were different from us.’
‘Of course you did. It was no secret that I was your half-brother. One unexpected consequence. I have discovered a whole clan of relations we didn’t know we had, including our grandmother.’
The shock on Matt’s face made him smile.
He perched on the end of the bed and told Matt about his grandmother, Aunt Peggy and the rest of the family.
‘I thought that, when you and Connie get to Brantstone, we shall hold a picnic for the whole damn lot,’ he concluded.
Matt raised his eyebrows. ‘A grandmother? Who would havethought?’ He added with wonder in his voice, ‘Connie will be thrilled.’
Sebastian regarded his brother. ‘I also want you to think about what you want to do with your life, Matt. I’m now in a position to send you to Oxford or Cambridge if that is what you would like.’
His brother stared at him. ‘Do you mean that?’
Sebastian nodded. He knew that it had been Matt’s long-held ambition to study mathematics at Oxford, but the family finances had simply not allowed it, so Matt had to be content with teaching, a profession he loathed.
‘And Connie?’ Matt asked.
Sebastian hesitated. The easy answer was that he could, at last, provide his sister with a dowry. Even low born as she was, with a good dowry, she could marry well. However, knowing his headstrong and independent-minded sister, that would be something to be broached gently.
‘That will be up to Connie,’ he said evenly.
‘Now, how about you tell me about the lovely Lady Somerton?’ Matt changed the subject.
‘What do you mean “lovely”?’ Sebastian asked.
‘Are you blind, Bas? She has to be one of the most handsome women I’ve ever seen, and if you haven’t noticed then you are not only blind but mad.’
Sebastian remembered his unworthy thoughts in the coach, when she had landed in his lap, and Harry’s words came back to him.
‘Matt, she is the respectable widow of my late cousin and she has been a good friend to me. That is all and ever will be,’ he said, words aimed at convincing himself more than his brother. ‘Lady Somerton has plans of her own. She is intent on doing good works in Manchester.’
‘Good works in Manchester?’ Matt’s lip curled in derision.
‘Don’t sneer like that, Matt. Her motives are worthy, and I intend to do what I can to support her. As for you,’ he said,changing the subject, ‘don’t mistake me, Matt, I still expect you to make your own way in the world.’
Matt gave a theatrical shudder. ‘If that is how it is to be! You are a cruel taskmaster, Bas, but I think as a starting point I would like the opportunity to go to Cambridge.’ He rose to his feet and clapped his hands together. ‘So, when do we leave?’
‘As soon as Connie is well enough to travel. All you have to do is send word and I’ll dispatch the coach for you.’
Matt gave his brother a low theatrical bow. ‘So be it, my lord.’
Long after Matt had fallen asleep and silence had descended on the little cottage, Sebastian lay awake with his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling and trying to ignore his brother’s stentorian breathing.
Thoughts of Isabel kept circling in his head. Despite the hard years of marriage to Anthony and the grief at the death of her son, he suspected that lurking not far below the cool, collected surface of Lady Somerton was indeed a handsome woman, both physically and intellectually, and he wanted to get to know this real Isabel, if only she’d let him … if only he’d let himself.
If he closed his eyes, he was back in the coach with her slender body in his arms.
He muttered a curse under his breath. He was being a fool. She had been too hurt and too damaged by Anthony, and there remained the question of her husband’s suspicious death. Could she be capable of murder?
He needed to resolve Anthony’s death before he even thought of jeopardising the slender thread of friendship he enjoyed with Isabel—Lady Somerton.
The longer he stayed here, in such close proximity to her, the more difficult it would be for them to return to normality at Brantstone. Now Connie was on the mend, he could beat a tactical retreat, but could Isabel be persuaded to stay?
