An uncomfortable tingling started at the base of his neck. He couldn’t have been wrong about her all this time, could he? He tossed back the entire contents of his glass and poured himself more.
Impossible. The woman was stubborn. Yes, stubborn and reckless and… and headstrong.
He stood and paced the chamber like a caged tiger. Rebecca was right about one thing. He needed to get to London. Someone needed to stop Gabriella from doing irreparable damage to herself. Now there was the added complication of why Huntley had deserted his sister the morning after their wedding. And why hadn’t they heard from him? By all accounts, Huntley adored Gabriella. Of course, there was always the possibility she’d heard from her husband. Based on Rebecca’s beliefs, Gabriella certainly wouldn’t seem inclined to inform Sebastian of the fact.
One thing was becoming increasingly clear—he absolutely required Lady Rebecca’s assistance. Gabriella trusted her.He ignored the relief filling him at that small measure. They were bound together in this venture.
There was still the identity of the libertine Gabriella was determined to seduce. He stared out into the now darkened, rain-pelted road. The weather was a hindrance, and until the rain eased, no one would be going anywhere.
There was a knock on the door and Sebastian made his way over and opened it. A maid from the inn dipped a shallow curtsey and held out a missive. “A note for you, Your Grace.”
“Thank you,” he said taking it. “Could you clear away the dishes and send up fresh tea.” He went to the hearth, wondering who on earth would be sending him word when no one could know where the devil he was. He broke the seal and read:
Ryleigh, The innkeeper mentioned you and your bride were stuck. Hadn’t heard you’d married. Come down. The pints are on me, old man. Oxford.
Fifteen
“What the devil are you doing in Hampshire?” Sebastian shook Oxford’s hand and lowered across from him.
Oxford was a blustery old duke whose face tended toward red. “My wife and I are headed to Cornwall to see my daughter. She and Lexum just welcomed my second grandchild into the world. We couldn’t outrun the weather. Deuced inconvenient.”
“Your wife?” Ryleigh choked out. He had heard Oxford had remarried the most notorious gossip in theton.
“Er, Lady Parther and me, we tied the knot a month or so ago.” He was quick to change the subject. “’Nuff about me. What’s this I hear about your new duchess.”
Sebastian barely suppressed his wince. Rebecca would not be happy with this turn of events—not that he was, he assured himself. “How on earth did you learn of—”
“These innkeepers can’t keep nothing to themselves, don’t you know.”
“Ah, yes.” Especially when they end up at the same place twice within a few days’ time.
“Who’s the lucky woman, man? My wife will be all agog for the information.”
No doubt.“My felicitations on your new grandchild.” Ryleigh deflected. “HowareLord and Lady Lexum?”
“Good, good. Everyone’s good.” Oxford proceeded to fill him in on the latest news from London. “Don’t know what the world’s comin’ to when one of our own is struck down in Vauxhall.”
The fine hairs on Sebastian’s neck lifted. “What do you mean?”
“You ain’t heard? Thought you of all people would have. Man being related to you and all.”
“No.” He sipped at his pint, his insides twisted, as a fleeting image of the twins went through his mind.
“Baron Welton was with Huntley when they were attacked.” His brows creased. “Can’t rightly remember which one didn’t make it. Still, what’s the world comin’ to when a peer can’t enjoy the fireworks without being attacked.”
Huntley was attacked? Ryleigh’s hand squeezed about his tankard. That could explain why Gabriella hadn’t heard from her husband. But it didn’t explain how he, the Duke of Ryleigh, Marquis of Dorset, Viscount Woodford hadn’t heard. “One of them didn’t make it, you say?”
“Messy business going to Vauxhall. Exactly why the commoners should be kept separate from the peer, I always say,” he blustered.
“I, er, better get back,” he told Oxford. “See how things are faring.”
“Yes, yes.” Oxford threw back his ale. “P’rhaps our duchesses would like to meet for breakfast.”
“I’m afraid the lady’s maid took sick and my, er, duchess is indisposed. But, of course, any other time…” he said, impatient to be away. There was no one he could speak to of this development but Rebecca.
Sebastian made his goodbyes and hurried up the two flights of stairs to their chamber.Their chamber. He felt a little ill himself.
Rebecca was sitting on the settee with her head back and her eyes closed. “Where have you been?” she asked without opening her eyes.
