A laugh burst from his chest, startling the maid, but she quickly settled back in her sleep. “You’re worried for my fate?” He splayed his hand across his waistcoat. “I’m touched, truly touched.”
“What is in this for you, Duke?”
He ignored her question since he couldn’t answer it anyway. He’d obviously lost his blasted mind. “I wish to ask your father for your hand.”
Her full lips firmed.
“You know I’ve no choice,” he told her gently.
She turned her face to the window, though he doubted she could see anything. “He won’t force me to marry you.”
“I suspect he’ll be thrilled to learn his only child is destined to be a duchess,” he said without thinking. And instantly regretted.
“That is preposterous. I will not marry you.”
“Won’t you?”
Before he could blink, he caught the luminous shimmer of tears gathering in her eyes, reflected by the low glow of the lamp.
Sebastian reached over, took her gloved hand, and tugged her next to him. “Rebecca,” he said gently. “Oxford and his wife believe we are wed. I did my best to shield your identity, but the duchess stormed the chamber. You were in your nightclothes. We told the innkeepers we were married. Oxford’s wife is not inclined to reticence. If we do not wed, you will never be able to show your face in polite society again.”
One tear spilled down her cheek. “I shan’t care. I’ve never given a fig what people say before, why should now be any different?”
“Be that as it may, my lady,Ido care.” He dabbed the wetness with his thumb. “You may not care now, tonight. But someday you might. What of Gabriella? What of the twins? You wish to see them again, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
He touched his lips to hers. “Then I’ll hear no more on the matter.”
She was silent for a long time, and Sebastian was reminded to whom he spoke. It was not out of her character for her to flout his every reason for them to marry, and for her to disappear to her father’s estate forever. But then, to his shocking heart, she laid her head on his shoulder. “Don’t you think you should hold out for the proverbial debutante? One dressed in some bland shade of white and is guaranteed unsullied?” She needn’t sound so hopeful.
She was definitely not up to full strength. A small, unexpected smile touched him. He rather liked this side of vulnerability she was exhibiting. He doubted many witnessed it.
“If you are sullied, my dear, it is because of me.”
She let out a tired sigh. Yes, he was wearing her down. “I’d much rather my father believe we are already wed,” she said glumly.
That caught him by surprise. “You don’t wish me to ask him for your hand?”
“Exactly.” She lifted her head from his shoulder, leaving him aching and tempted to pull her head back to his shoulder. “I’m a known hoyden, Your Grace. Marrying me will not bode well for your reputation.”
One thing one could count on from Rebecca Thatcher. Stubborn resolve. The lady was not a quitter. Mayhap she was more duchess ready than he’d previously believed.
She faced him, straightening her spine again, her demeanor taking on a decided excitement that left him wary. “You could procure a special license, couldn’t you? Then we could vacate to the country and marry. No one would be the wiser.” Her hand flitted out. “I shall stay with Gabby while you take care of the matter. I’ll go to her house tomorrow.”
He gritted his teeth, hating to admit logic to Rebecca’s blasted suggestion. Rivers was a bit absentminded and liable to let out the fact that Sebastian and Rebecca weren’t already blissfully joined. The only ones who knew the truth were Serena and Barrett and they weren’t likely to betray their mistress. But obtaining a special license was serious business. There were no assurances he’d be granted one, despite Sebastian’s standing in society. Expensive business dealing with the Archbishop of Canterbury. And in this instance, the outcome could be more costly than Sebastian was willing to pay.
The carriage pulled to a stop, and he glanced out the window. “Come. Let’s give your father the good news then take our leave.”
“You needn’t come with me, Your Grace. I’m perfectly capable of—”
Irritation rippled over him. “I wouldn’t dream of leaving everything on your delicate shoulders.” Sounding calm was difficult through a jaw so tense it threatened to shatter, Sebastian thought.
~~~
Another unexpected bout of emotion hit Rebecca going up the steps of her family home on Ryleigh’s arm. Had she truly been gone only a week or so? It seemed months since she and Papa had come to London so he could speak to the Royal Society on Charles Babbage’s Difference Machine.
She must be losing her mind. Emotion inundated her from all directions. It surprised her. Mortified her. Surely she couldn’t be with child! Could she?
