Helena had come here today for answers, and while she might not have liked those given, they were undeniable.
She had been wondering if it would be so bad to follow her feelings for Sebastian and see where they led her. She had questioned what the worst might be if she were to betray her instincts and seek more than a marriage of convenience.
Now, she knew.
No good could come from marriage. It was, as she had always known, a trap. A prison. Bonds that could not be broken.And unlike her mother, unlike her sister—unlike every lady she knew!—she would not allow that to happen. Shecouldnot.
She was born to be free, and nobody would change that. Not even Sebastian.
CHAPTER 21
“Perhaps you should slow down?” Giles suggested as Sebastian finished his glass of whiskey in two gulps.
“Perhaps you should mind your own business,” Sebastian snapped.
Giles scoffed derisively. “Seeing as you are a guest in my house, this is my business. And keep drinking like that. While you will indeed become very drunk, you will be a drunk wandering the streets because the last thing I want is you vomiting all over my floor.”
Sebastian winced. “I am not nearly that far gone yet.”
“Yet?”
“Another.” Sebastian shoved the glass toward his friend. “A double this time.”
Giles took the glass from him but did not stand to refill it. Nor did he look as if he meant to. He eyed the empty glass with disdain and then fixed the same look on Sebastian.
Well earned, in Sebastian’s opinion.
“So, it is up to me to guess, then, isn’t it? I had assumed that you coming here meant you wished to talk. But perhaps that was optimistic on my part.”
“It is bad luck to drink alone.”
“I am not drinking,” Giles pointed out.
“But you are here, are you not? Hence, I am not alone.”
“Clever,” Giles said dryly. “I see the drink hasn’t ruined your inhibitions just yet.”
“The day is young. Now…” Sebastian eyed the empty glass. “Are you going to refill that glass, or do I need to do it myself?”
“I will,” Giles spoke slowly, his disdainful expression turning worried. “But on one condition. That you tell me what in the name of the King has gotten into you.”
“Ugh. Can’t a man drink in silence?”
“You did not come here to drink in silence,” Giles retorted. “You came here because something is troubling you. But the coward you are, alcohol is required before you are willing to say it. So, what will it be? Another drink and honesty? Or do I need to have you removed?”
Giles was right, as he so often was.
Sebastian had indeed ridden all this way because he needed someone to speak with—perhaps the only person in the world whom he trusted with the truth. But it had been a long and hard ride, his conscience had wreaked havoc on him, and by the time he arrived, he found that the only thing he wanted—which he hoped would save him—was hard liquor.
A drink was requested and served. Then another. And then a third. Giles, ever the gracious host, was happy for a time to sit back and watch Sebastian ruin himself.
But three drinks in, with not a word said, and he was growing worried. Enough that he was willing to put his foot down as he had done. Sebastian was stubborn, and he required the ultimatum. And Giles knew it.
“Fine,” Sebastian sighed as if losing a great battle. “Poor me a drink, and I’ll tell you why I am here.”
“As if you were not going to anyway,” Giles scoffed as he rose from the couch and crossed the room to the liquor cabinet. “But better you do it when you have control of your tongue.”
At the cabinet, he poured a glass of whiskey and then handed it to Sebastian.
