“Ah, yes, one of my favorite people,” Sebastian said with a careless shrug. It wasn’t as if he was hurting for women. One tonight, one tomorrow, it was all the same to him. “Why does she always join you on Thursdays again?”
“Our great-aunt hosts a weekly gathering with her sewing group at Marianne’s home.” His friend grimaced. “And my sister may be a spinster herself, but not so far into her old maidenhood that she enjoys four hours of listening to those women cackle endlessly about how we should all still be wearing powdered wigs.”
“No, I cannot imagine your sister finding much entertainment in such a thing. Her wit would be wasted on such mundane topics.”
Sebastian couldn’t help but smile. He had known Marianne for almost twenty years, since he and Delacourt had become friends at school. She had been just a girl then, but a bright and funny one. As all three of them grew older, Sebastian had come to appreciate her sharp observations and quick mind. She was the only woman he had ever met who he considered a friend and she trulywasone of his favorite people.
Delacourt’s butler stepped into the room. “Lady Marianne, my lord.”
With that, he stepped aside and allowed Marianne to come into the room. Sebastian set his drink down as he stared at her. Although he couldn’t say that his friend had ever been at the height of fashion, tonight her plain black bombazine gown was drab and lifeless in the lamplight. It made her pale face look positively ghostly, as did the flat way she had fashioned her brown hair, pressed tightly to her scalp in a bun at the nape of her neck.
“Great God, woman.” Sebastian laughed. “What in the world are you wearing?
Marianne lifted her gaze to him and Sebastian was shocked to see tears clouding her dark eyes. He had never seen her so emotional.
“My dear friend Claudia was buried today,” she said softly.
Sebastian dipped his chin in shame. Damn, he had heard that news a few days before and wondered vaguely why the passing of such a mouse of a wallflower should resonate with him. But of course, it was because of Marianne’s close relationship to the woman.
Delacourt stepped forward and placed a hand on his sister’s shoulder gently. “I’m so sorry, Mari. And even more sorry that my business today kept me from acting as your escort to the funeral, myself. How was the service?”
Marianne shook her head and removed the glass from her brother’s hands. Sebastian watched in surprise as she took the last sip of his whiskey. She made a brief face that said liquor hardly ever touched her pale lips and then shrugged.
“Short, impersonal and poorly attended,” she answered with a frown that made her brown eyes even more forlorn and empty. “Claudia deserved better.”
Delacourt opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, the butler returned to the room.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, my lord, but the message you have been waiting for has arrived.”
Delacourt sent a brief glance to his sister and then bowed slightly. “I hope you two will forgive me. This message is related to some business and it is important.”
“Of course,” Sebastian said as he waved his friend away. “Your sister and I are quite capable of entertaining each other.”
He sent her a playful look that normally Marianne would return with a laugh, but today she did not glance up from her focused stare at Delacourt’s empty glass. As her brother left the room, she didn’t even acknowledge his exit.
Sebastian sighed. There were many things he was quite talented at when it came to women. Seduction came to mind. Dancing, flirting and compliments came with such ease that he could hardly remember a time when he didn’t have such things right on his tongue and ready to use.
But comforting…thatwas not his forte. And clearly it was what Marianne needed in that moment.
He stepped closer. “I feel I owe you an apology,” he began.
Those words snapped Marianne from her fog and she glanced up at him with surprise. “You? Apologize?”
She laughed and the sound sent great relief through Sebastian. He preferred his friend to be light again, not muted and sad.
“Yes,” he continued, and reached out to take her hand.
Marianne’s gaze came up to his in disbelief and Sebastian’s astonishment matched the expression on her face. Her hand was ungloved and he realized he had never touched her skin before in all the years they had known each other. They had danced, of course, she had taken his arm as escort from one room to another, but there had always been a layer of cloth and propriety separating them.
Now that his flesh touched the warm silkiness of hers, the intimacy of that gesture was deeper.
“Truly, Marianne, I was insensitive when I mentioned your mourning gown,” he said softly, surprised by how easily the words came. Comfort might not be his strength, but in this situation it came far more naturally than he ever would have guessed. “Ihadheard of the loss of your friend and I should have recalled it when I saw you. My deepest condolences.”
Marianne blinked at him and her surprise faded, replaced by the return of her sadness, but also the warmth of appreciation. “Thank you. Of all the people who said that to me today, I think you might be the only one who meant those words.”
He tilted his head. “Do you remember what you said to me when my uncle died?”
Marianne’s eyebrows drew up in surprise. His uncle had been the only person in his painful childhood who had not failed him. As such, he was not a topic who often came up. Sebastian made sure of it, because it was too difficult and vulnerable, so he understood her reaction.
