The carriage pulled to a stop and Delacourt let out a very put-upon and rather theatrical sigh. “You are both a menace to Society at large. I refuse to participate in these childish diversions. If you two wish to make a spectacle of yourselves, then leave me out of it.”
Marianne turned to look out the window away from her brother, but Sebastian caught her expression before shadow overtook her features. His words seemed to make her highly uncomfortable, even though he didn’t think Delacourt meant them harshly.
He kept his gaze on her as he said, “Great God, Delacourt, you are a bore. He only does this because of you, Marianne.”
She turned back toward them with a gasp, but it turned to a smile as she took his meaning. “Ah, you mean because Finn thinks I am a delicate flower who must be protected at all costs from anything daring or, Lord preserve us,fun.”
Delacourt rolled his eyes, but Sebastian could see he was trying not to smile. Although his friend tended to be serious and dry at these events, he would wager Delacourt actually enjoyed his shenanigans. Otherwise, they couldn’t have remained friends for so long. “Again, I fail to see how this…punch-drinking game of yours will be fun.”
Sebastian let out a long and put-upon sigh. “Fine, if you are determined to play the staid lord of the manor, then you are no longer invited to take part in the game. Marianne and I shall play without you, won’t we, my lady?”
For a moment her face paled, and when she finally answered him, her mouth was firm in a line of determination rather than amusement. “Yes,” she said with far more passion than the subject demanded.
If Delacourt noticed her change in demeanor, he didn’t acknowledge it, just threw the carriage door open with an exaggerated groan of disapproval and stepped out. As he helped Marianne out and the two moved out of the way so that Sebastian could come outside, he couldn’t help but stare at Marianne. She had always been a friend in his eyes, but never had he been so interested in her motives. But there was something going on with her and he was going to find out what that something was.
One way or another.
Marianne stood on the veranda overlooking a pretty garden below. She clung to the edge of the stone with both hands as the world tilted precariously about her and tried not to pitch headfirst into the bushes down below.
“There you are.”
Marianne sucked in a long breath of fresh, cool air and then slowly turned to find Sebastian standing at the doors of the veranda. It boded poorly for her that he had two drinks in his hands.
“You missed three ladies tumbling into each other in a spectacular crash on the dance floor thanks to the orchestra changing its tune right in the middle of one of the country jigs.” Sebastian moved closer and handed her a glass. “So this is for you.”
Marianne took the glass and swallowed hard as she stared at the liquid within. But she had made a promise and all she could do was take a large sip. As it made its way down her throat, she made a face.
“I am not feeling quite right,” she admitted. Her voice seemed far away in her ears.
Sebastian looked at her for a moment and then reached out to take her elbow. “Well, the party was a stunning success for our game, though not for Lady Simpson.”
He smiled and Marianne found herself staring at his mouth. It was such a nice mouth. Such a beautiful, kissable mouth.
Sebastian, apparently oblivious to her shocking thoughts, moved her toward some benches farther back in the shadow of the terrace. “Dear Lord, you’re drunk, aren’t you?”
Marianne blinked. “Am I? Is this what being drunk feels like?”
Sebastian chuckled low in the dark and the sound of it sent a tingle down Marianne’s spine that she had never experienced before. “Is the world spinning?”
Marianne nodded and the movement proved Sebastian’s point exactly. “Yes.”
“Do you feel out of control? Foggy?”
“Most definitely,” she said.
“And you’re slurring your words slightly,” he mused, though it seemed like he was saying it more to himself than to her.
“I am not,” Marianne protested, indignation rising up in her. “I sh-sound perfectly fine.”
“Yes, I believe you are at least a bit tipsy,” Sebastian laughed again. “I should apologize. I wasn’t thinking that this would be the outcome when I proposed our game, but between the fact that you rarely drink and that Lady Simpson made some particularly gruesome faux pas tonight, it might not have been the best time to play.”
Marianne nodded, but the movement only made her head spin again. “Drunk. Well, that’s nice. I can cross that off the list.”
Sebastian looked at her in confusion. “List?”
Marianne stared up at him. The moon cast the only light in this dark corner and it partially illuminated his face in a most interesting way. What was he asking about? The list? But he didn’t know about the list. No one knew.
But he could help her. Lord knew he had experience in some shocking things. He was the perfect person to assist her with a few of the items Claudia had wanted to do before her death.
