Her laugh spilled through the chamber. “Actually, I was caught putting the spirits back.”
He moved to the settee and sank down as if his knees had buckled beneath him. “You aren’t jesting, are you? Gabriella can pick a lock.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “I suppose you can as well?”
Rebecca felt almost sorry for him. “I afraid so, Your Grace. I can wield a charm as well as your sister.” She strolled over to the settee and lowered next to him. “No.” How tempting to inform him how equal she and Gabriella were in their mischievous antics. She wouldn’t of course. That’s what friends did. They looked out for one another. “Girls at that age can be quite intolerable,” she said softly, leaning back.
He fell back next to her and turned his head, studying her. His hand covered hers and she had the strangest yearning to yank off the lace coverings and toss them into the fire. “You were a good friend to her. What else don’t I know?”
“You shall have to ask her, Your Grace.” She spoke lightly, finding herself, for some reason, on the verge of tears. She pulled her hand away.
His gaze didn’t waver. “And the stable boy?”
“Really, Your Grace! What a perfectly horrid thing to say about your own sister who was still in the schoolroom at the time.” Rebecca stood quickly and strode back to the window. It didn’t look as if the rain would ever let up. The heat in the room had her clothes sticking to her, despite the welcoming bath Ryleigh had afforded her.
Of course he wouldn’t let go of the matter. “Then there was the time you were both caught swimming in the moonlight.”
The room was getting hotter. Once more she rested her hot forehead against the cold pane. She had no words, for everything he said was true.
He moved about elsewhere in the chamber. She didn’t bother looking. “Gabriella had every one of us wrapped around that tiny finger of hers.”
Rebecca smiled, understanding completely. The girl most definitely had a talent. Then she frowned. Which was exactly what worried her. She turned from the window. “Your Grace, I don’t know how to tell you this, but—” She swallowed hard.
In an instant, Ryleigh was standing before her and had taken her hand again. “Lady Rebecca, please. I’ve learned my lesson. You shall not be held responsible for Gabriella’s actions. They are hers alone.”
She jerked her hand from his. “Of course I’m not responsible. Gabby is a woman grown. That, however, does not keep me from worrying over her. But I fear she is on a mission of ruin.”
“Then no more theatrics, my lady. Whatisthis mission of ruin?” In the flip of a ha’pence, the duke had turned from concern to his normal condescending self and her temper snapped.
“Her marital relations were painful and her husband left the next morning without a word. She’s been blaming herself. She won’t talk to her sisters, and”—she poked him in the chest with her finger—“she could hardly broachyouwith the subject.” She spun back around and stared out at the bleak weather. “In any event, she’s decided there was a man who’d shown interest in her before her nuptials, and she has decided to approach him to determine for herself if the problem, er, ah, lay with her husband or, or herself.”
With the velocity of a cyclone, she was whipped back around. “Did you encourage this… this insanity?” he growled, his nose almost touching hers.
The heat in her face intensified with fury not humiliation. “If your sisters are prone to reactions of this sort, then this is exactly the reason Gabby is not compelled to confide in her family,” she said in a breathless huff.
“Dear God,” he breathed. “She means to go after this man and… and… and—”
Rebecca shook off his hold. “Yes. That is why you must proceed to London without us. Someone has to stop her from her foolishness.”
~~~
Shock reverberated through Sebastian, and he stared out at the disastrous weather. “There won’t be anyone leaving until this downpour lets up.” He rubbed a palm over his face. “Of all the foolish notions I’ve ever heard.”
“That’s enough, Your Grace. Why do you suppose something like this happened in the first place? I shall tell you. It’s because of statements like that. Gabby is a highly sensitive individual.”
Sebastian slowly faced her. But she wasn’t looking at him. She had the unmitigated gall to chastisehim? Gabriella washissister. No one knew more than he how sensitive she was. “Lady Rebecca,” he said on a pained and excruciatingly patient sigh. “I know my sister.”
Her response was immediate. She opened her mouth to speak but stopped. Very un-Rebecca-like. The sight sent a surge of fire straight to his groin. Blood roared in his ears, blocking the rain hitting the windows or any words she might have blasted him with. Just as quickly, her eyes flashed, and she was rushing from the chamber to her maid’s side. As his pulse evened out a degree, he heard the retching.
Sebastian went to the table and poured himself another glass of wine, wishing for something much stronger.
The words coming from the other room were low, gentle, and indistinguishable. No doubt comforting to the poor girl, and surprisingly, to him as well.
He took the carafe of wine and went to the settee. Sipping and mulling. How was he supposed to wrap his head around the fact that his sweet younger sister had been an instigator in half the outrageous incidents he’d been called in to consult on with Miss Greensley.
Just how good a friend had Rebecca been to Gabriella? It was a legitimate question, he assured himself, even as the image of her shoving that giant arse in the mud at the Flowers’ Bottom Inn. The man had been thrice her size. If Sebastian hadn’t stepped in, the bastard would have flattened her. All for a dog—all right, he admitted—and a child.
And look at the way she’d handled the twins. How she’d flayed Thomas because she believed he’d mistreated Percy, er, Owen. Her actions had stunned him, showed him a side of her he hadn’t considered. Even over the past day and a half, watching how she cared for her maid, how she made certain her footman was fed and rested because he’d driven hard in horrid weather. Rebecca had shown nothing but grace, kindness, concern for those around her.
He groaned. Honor and a sense of fairness forced him to reevaluate his whole view of her. Something monumental shifted inside that left him confused and disoriented, opening the door for a curiosity that tugged at him. That incident in the garden all those years ago—a total contradiction of all he’d believed of her over the years. Had she tripped and he hadn’t realized? It didn’t excuse his leaning in and brushing his lips against hers as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Perhaps his reasons for lashing out at her were in response to his guilt in handling the situation.
