“Don’t try to joke your way out of this,” Delacourt said, his voice deceptively quiet. “Bentley, get out. Say nothing of this, do you understand?” He hadn’t even looked over his shoulder, keeping his glare on Sebastian.
Sebastian saw from the corner of his eye that Marianne had begun to lift her dress up over her chemise, cheeks flaming as she refused to look at anyone in the room. But at least she was covered, at least this wasn’t as awful as it could have been.
“Yes, my lord,” Bentley said, his voice shaking as he exited the room and shut it behind him.
“Finn,” Marianne began.
“Don’t say a word until you’ve fully dressed,” Delacourt growled at her, then said to Sebastian, “Get up, you foul fuck, and turn your back so my sister may have some privacy.”
Sebastian stood as he’d been told and fastened the flap his trousers. He’d so desperately wanted to remove them not a moment before so that he could feel Marianne’s legs tangling with his as he drove into her, her body writhing beneath his. But now he was happy it took so little to recover himself to some acceptable level.
He turned his back. Delacourt was standing just in front of him and he did the same. Sebastian’s heart sank. His friend’s shoulders were rolled forward, trembling with rage. He could feel the heat of that emotion coming off of Delacourt in waves. And there was nothing he could say or do to change it.
“I need help buttoning,” Marianne said softly. “Sebastian, will you?”
Delacourt pivoted and launched himself forward. “There is no way in hell that Ramsbury is going to button your dress, Marianne.”
Sebastian tensed, waiting for her to burst into tears or bow her head in the face of her brother’s anger. But instead she folded her arms, the gap of her dress increasing with the motion. Delacourt pursed his lips and lifted his gaze to the ceiling.
“Then we’re at an impasse,” Marianne said in a remarkably calm tone considering the circumstances. “You have ordered me to dress. I cannot do it by myself. I doubt you want to go calling for servants to come in and have even more of them see what you’ve witnessed. And I have no interest inyoubuttoning my clothing, Phineas. I assume you don’t either. It seems a bit too intimate for siblings, does it not?”
Delacourt’s expression twisted and he threw up his hands. “Fine, bloody hell, let him button you.” He stepped forward. “But I swear on everything that is holy, Ramsbury, if you go too far?—”
“I think we can all agree it’s a bit late for that,” Sebastian said softly. “And I have no intention of doing anything untoward to Marianne with you glaring daggers into my soul.”
He stepped forward to Marianne as Delacourt turned away a second time. Although she was putting on a tough front, as he neared her, he saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes. He wanted so much to take her hand, to comfort her. Instead he cupped her elbows, squeezing gently before he turned her so he could button her dress.
“Do everyone a favor, Delacourt, and light some lamps or set the fire. I doubt you want to have whatever conversation is coming next in the dark.”
“No, we only soil things in the dark, don’t we?” Delacourt grunted. “You only sneak around in the dark ruining my sister.”
“Oh, Finn, light the fire, for heaven’s sake,” Marianne said, her voice trembling.
Sebastian ignored Delacourt now, focusing only on Marianne as he fastened her dress swiftly. When Delacourt moved away, he allowed himself to swiftly touch the exposed skin just below her neck where her chemise began.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly.
“It was both of us,” she whispered back. “And I know you have far more to lose.”
“Stop whispering, you two,” Delacourt said, the wood hitting the grate with a crash that made Marianne jump.
Sebastian buttoned the last button and stepped away. Marianne drew a long breath and he was close enough to hear it shaking, then she returned to the settee where he had made love to her, where he had surrendered himself in ways he didn’t think he’d ever done.
She blushed as she took her place there, but there was a regal quality to her expression as she looked at her brother and waited, wordless, for whatever punishment would come. Sebastian straightened his back and decided to do the same. If she could behave with such courage, he had to at least try to be as worthy of her as he could be.
The light in the room lifted as Delacourt finished with the fire and then lit a few lamps. Only then did he truly look at his sister. Sebastian did the same. She was still flushed from some combination of pleasure and humiliation. Her hair was mussed from his fingers, from the way she’d thrown her head back as she rippled around him in pleasure.
She had never been so utterly beautiful. How he wanted to keep her like this forever, mussed by his ardor, locked away where they would never be interrupted.
“I’m doing my best not to shout and draw the attention of over fifty people gathered in our ballroom,” Delacourt said through clenched teeth. “So I will ask that you two do not trifle with me, do not lie to me. What the hell is going on that I would find you in such a situation?”
Sebastian glanced at Marianne, but she wouldn’t look back at him. She stared at her brother, chin lifted. Her pain was just at the surface, despite her attempts to remain strong. Sebastian wanted so desperately to ease it.
“You know how I am—” he began.
Marianne pushed to her feet. “He didn’t know it was me.”
“What?” Sebastian and Delacourt said at once, both staring at her.
