Tears had filled Veronica’s eyes that night as well. She’d patted her grandfather’s hand. “Don’t worry, Grandpapa. If I can find a man even half as good as you, I shall count myself fortunate indeed.”
“Only the best will do for you, my darling V,” Grandpapa had said before the Cranberrys’ butler had announced them and he’d escorted her into the dazzling ballroom.
Fear had taken hold of Veronica that night and it had remained her constant companion for the next four Seasons. She danced with a thousand young gentlemen. She’d taken their calls. Accepted their flowers. She’d gone riding in the park with them. She’d allowed them to escort her to Gunter’s for a sweet. She’d tried and tried to find the perfect man, one she could love and trust. But her fear of making the wrong choice, of choosing a man like her father, had left her paralyzed with doubt.
That, and the fact that her heart had been captured long ago…by Sebastian Sinclair.
Sebastian had been busy taking over the responsibilities of the dukedom after his father’s untimely death. For years, Sebastian hadn’t been to any of the balls and soirees and picnics and other parties the rest of the ton enjoyed during the Season. It wasn’t until Veronica’s fifth Season when she was quickly approaching ‘on the shelf’ by anyone’s standards, that Sebastian had returned to Society. And the moment he asked her to dance at the Dunwoodys’ ball…her heart was lost.
Of course, Grandfather had given his blessing. He’d been taken in by Sebastian’s charm. And it wasn’t until it was too late that Veronica had learned the truth.
“You were going to say something else?” Mama gently prodded from her chair across from Veronica.
Veronica opened her eyes again and nodded. “It’s just that…I cannot abide cheating,” she finally replied, a fierce note in her voice.
“I don’t blame you, darling,” Mama said, nodding. “It broke my heart.”
“But you had a choice, you could have—” Veronica swallowed. There was no use blaming and judging her mother. The woman had been through enough and her husband was dead. It didn’t matter that Mama hadn’t sent Father away, hadn’t forced him to stay in London far away from their family. Veronica had separated herself from her husband, but Mama was different. Veronica would do well to remember that.
“I’m sorry, Mama.” Veronica stood and walked to her mother. She leaned down and kissed her mama’s forehead. “I only want this holiday to be happy for Grandpapa. I’m going to bed.” She turned and made her way toward the door.
“Veronica.” Her mother’s voice stopped her.
“Yes?” she replied, turning halfway.
“Thank you for bringing Sebastian. I hope you’ll find it in your heart to give him a second chance.”
Veronica swallowed the lump in her throat. Her poor sweet mother didn’t understand. Perhaps she never would. Mama had given Father what felt like a hundred chances. He’d never changed. “Sebastian had his chance, Mama,” Veronica replied softly, before striding from the room.
Chapter Eleven
After leaving the drawing room, Veronica’s pace slowed. She nearly dragged her feet along the runner that led down the corridor toward the grand staircase. But no amount of dawdling could keep her from the bedchamber she shared with Sebastian all night.
Sebastian had already gone up. She knew as much when she walked past the dining room where the men had been left to their port. The room was empty and dark. Of course, it was possible that Sebastian had returned to the billiards’ room with Justin, but somehow, she doubted it. She wouldn’t be that fortunate.
Reluctantly, Veronica made her way up the staircase. When she finally entered the bedchamber, Sebastian was nowhere to be found, but Mary was waiting for her in the connected dressing room. Veronica entered the dressing room and removed her clothing as slowly as possible. But again, it was no use. Eventually, wearing her dressing gown, she was forced to return to the bedchamber, where her husband had materialized. He was propped up in bed, pillows behind his head, shirt off, and God-knew-what-else off beneath the covers. In addition to the fire in the fireplace, a pair of candles burned on the mantel across the room, casting the room in a shadowy glow. It was almost romantic.
As Mary took her leave, Veronica dragged her bare feet along the rug, making snail-like progress toward the bed. She averted her gaze, trying to ignore the tantalizing sight of Sebastian’s bare, muscled chest. She climbed atop the mattress and pulled the covers to her neck, then turned to face the wall.
“Good night,” she chimed in as pleasant a voice as she could muster, scrunching her eyes closed.
“Good night?” Sebastian echoed, his voice filled with surprise. “Is the evening over, then?”
“I’m quite tired,” she insisted, faking a yawn. “It’s been a long day.”
He rolled toward her and leaned over her, his breath a fiery brand on her neck. “So, you don’t want me to do this?” He kissed her neck.
She kept her eyes closed, desire already streaking through her. She loved it when he kissed her neck.
“Or this?” He nipped her earlobe. She loved it when he nipped her earlobe.
She rolled onto her back, already wanting him, her breath coming in hot pants. He moved atop her, his arms braced on either side of her body. “Or this?” he said before leaning down and kissing her deeply.
Veronica was lost. She couldn’t resist him and didn’t want to. She wrapped her arms over his broad shoulders, reveling in the feel of the sinewy muscle beneath her fingertips. His skin was smooth and firm and hot. His mouth shaped hers, stoking desire throughout her body that pooled in the intimate spot between her legs.
Sebastian pulled his mouth away and moved down. Pushing the covers aside, he slid her night rail up her thighs. “Or this,” he breathed as the fabric slowly ascended to her hips.
Veronica’s breath caught. Oh, God. He was going to— And she wanted him to…desperately. But she shouldn’t want him to…should she?
