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Authors: Bronwen Evans

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical Romance, #Regency

BOOK: A Promise of More
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Settled in the drawing room, Serena and Beatrice sat drinking tea. Lily, having grown bored with the adult chatter, had left to go riding.

Beatrice took the opportunity, somewhat ashamedly, to tell Serena her story.

Serena reached across and patted Beatrice’s hand. “I say, ‘Bravo!’ You did a brave thing approaching a man you did not know in order to save your family. If I’d been in your position, I probably would have done the same thing.”

“You would never be in my position. You would have had plenty of offers of marriage long before you reached my age.”

Serena daintily plucked a sugarplum and popped it in her mouth. Beatrice took the opportunity to turn the conversation toward Sebastian. She wasn’t even particularly subtle about it either. She needed to understand the man she’d married. “Have you known Sebastian long?” Beatrice waited for her to finish eating, impatient for her answer before the men intruded on their conversation.

“No, not long at all.” At Beatrice’s puzzled frown she added, “You’d have to be a woman on your deathbed not to notice a man like Sebastian Hawkestone, so yes, I’ve known
who
he was since I had my come-out. But
know
him …” She shook her head. “I first talked with him in Jamaica a few months ago.” Her face sobered. “He protected me even when he thought I’d killed my husband. A great kindness I won’t forget. That’s why I like seeing him happy.”

Blast
. Serena didn’t really know Sebastian either, not enough to help her understand the man she’s married. She hadn’t been so disappointed since her brother stole the last of her mother’s jewels and lost them at the gaming tables. She’d been devastated then and her stomach cramped just the same now.

“Do you want to make him happy?” Serena asked.

She saw the question in Serena’s eyes, and perhaps a warning.

Beatrice licked her lips. “I have only known my husband a total of a few days, but yes”—she nodded vigorously—“from what I have learned of the man, I want both of us to be happy. I want what you and Christian share.”

Serena glanced across at the men. “It won’t be easy. The Libertine Scholars are men who have been pursued for their titles and wealth—and their looks. They don’t have very high opinions of women and are as suspicious as a mouse facing a trap. The cheese may look very inviting but it comes with unforeseen consequences.”

“But I’m already his wife. The consequence has pounced. I never thought I’d ever marry, so I had no opinion on what I wanted from a marriage. But now that I find my life tied inevitably to another’s, I don’t want it to be a lonely existence—for either of us.”

Serena clapped her hands. “Then we have a lot of work to do. Sebastian’s past will not make your task easy.”

“I thought you didn’t know …”

Serena gave her a sly smile. “But my husband knows him very well, and since
your sudden and unexpected arrival last night, I must admit I did my fair share of fishing for information, in between other more pleasurable pursuits.”

Beatrice’s face flushed with heat. Ignoring Serena’s wink, she asked, “Did you learn anything useful?”

Serena poured them both more tea, then glanced briefly over her shoulder to ensure the men were otherwise occupied, and leaned in close to whisper. “It appears that Sebastian’s parents had a volatile marriage. Apparently, it was a love match, and was fine until after Sebastian was born. Then, the rumor was, Sebastian’s father got caught in an indiscretion. In retaliation his wife took a lover and it all escalated from there. All-out war, with each parent trying to rouse the jealousy of the other.” Serena sat back and sighed. “The children got caught in the middle.”

“That cannot have been pleasant. My parents barely spoke to each other. Sometimes silence is as damaging as shouts. I don’t want my children to endure either.”

“Sebastian has looked after his sisters, and I know he loves them dearly. He would be a loving father. He’d never subject his children to a cold household.”

Beatrice nodded her agreement. “He doesn’t want to hide me away. He wants me in his life—as a
friend
.”

Serena screwed her nose up in horror. “
Friend?
” Beatrice shrugged her shoulders. “Well,” Serena said, “if it’s any consolation, he is a man who goes to great lengths to ensure no one falls in love with him. He has never kept a mistress or long-term lover.” She giggled. “You’ll be the first woman he’s had any kind of long-term relationship with. That must be in your favor.”

Her tea suddenly tasted like ash. Goodness. That was frightening. “That does not instill me with confidence. If no other woman could gain his heart, how on earth will I?”

“Because you are there. No other woman has had a chance. You do. He can’t walk away from this relationship.”

Oh yes he can
, Beatrice thought.
He can leave me at his country estate and head back to London. He can live his life exactly as he pleases
.

Serena must have read her thoughts. “You will just have to ensure he doesn’t forget you are alive.”

“And how am I to do that?”

“Given the number of times he’s secretly glanced this way, I’d say whatever
you’re doing is working.”

Beatrice issued a curse under her breath. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Serena suddenly became serious. “Just love him. Give your heart and soul to him. He doesn’t know it, but he craves love. In Jamaica, I got a sense that he was lonely. He’s just scared to let love in. He’s petrified of ending up in a relationship like his parents’. Can you do that? Love him?”

“I’ll try, but I’ll have to be careful. If I move too fast, he’s likely to bolt like a frightened stallion.” She smiled and an eyebrow rose. “Any tips on how to start? I’ve never tried to win a man’s heart before.”

“With a man of Sebastian’s passionate nature, the bedchamber would seem to be the perfect place to begin.” Serena blushed. “He looked very content this morning, so I assume last night went well?” At Beatrice’s shocked glare, “Well,” Serena said, “our husbands have reputations as fabulous lovers.” She hesitated. “Are we not lucky ladies?”

They looked at each other and burst into peals of laughter. The men turned to stare. The women looked at each other again and laughed harder.

Christian strolled over. “Care to share what is so amusing?”

More laughter. Beatrice’s eyes watered.

“I’ll explain later when we’re alone,” Serena teased.

“I think we are being discussed,” Christian said to Sebastian, who’d also come to join them.

“Should we be alarmed?” came Sebastian’s seductive voice close to her ear as he leaned down and pressed his lips to her cheek.

Serena’s smile widened at his display of affection, while Beatrice tried not to show how much one tender gesture sent her heart tumbling in her chest.

“We must take our leave, sweetheart,” he said. “I want to get back to London tonight.”

Beatrice looked around the room; the other men had left, and only the two couples remained.

“I shall go and oversee my packing.” She turned to Serena. “Will I see you before we leave?”

“Of course. Christian and I will be there to see you off. We cannot come to London until we have found our enemy, but I hope you’ll write me and let me know how our plan unfolds.”

“What plan?” Sebastian asked.

Serena rose and kissed Sebastian on the cheek. “Never you mind. Shall we meet in the foyer in one hour to say goodbye?”

Beatrice was sad to leave. She’d found a new friend in Serena and an ally. Serena’s advice to engage Sebastian’s desires was sound. The one wee flaw in the otherwise excellent plan was she had no idea how on earth to seduce any man, let alone a rake of Sebastian’s ilk.

An hour later, as she and Sebastian took their leave, she suspected there would be plenty of correspondence being delivered between London and the Markham estate in Dorset.

Chapter Seven

Sebastian reflected on the day’s events during the carriage ride back to London. At the beginning of their journey, Beatrice had tried to converse, but Sebastian’s mind had been otherwise occupied, so she had given up.

Thankfully, with the carriage being so stuffy on this warm spring day, Beatrice had fallen asleep within an hour of leaving Dorset.

His fellow Libertine Scholars would be amused to learn that what preyed on his mind was not the identity of their enemy. Instead, it was the wedding; it had had an unusual impact on him. He had been pleased for Christian and Serena. It was obvious they were madly in love. He just hoped that it didn’t go wrong for the pair.

For a man with Christian’s insecurities about his scars, it wouldn’t take much to set the seed of doubt in his mind. Serena was a very beautiful woman, and Sebastian suspected that once they got back to town, the notorious rakes of the
ton
would see her as fair game, given her husband’s looks.

Something deep inside told him neither Christian nor Serena would stray from their marriage vows. Christian had his dream, a wife and family on the way, but what of Serena? She was exceedingly beautiful—inside and out. Surprisingly, Sebastian found himself trusting her with his friend’s heart. Serena would be the first woman Sebastian had ever given the benefit of the doubt to. He had believed her when she had spoken her vows.

He looked across the small space in the carriage. A slight churning started deep in his guts, and it had nothing to do with the food or the alcohol they had consumed last night and this morning. He glanced down at Beatrice as she lay sleeping curled on her side on the squab across from him.

He should have listened to his inner warning the day they married. Beatrice was far more beautiful than he’d originally thought, and had a far greater effect on him than any wife should.

He let his eyes study her as she lay sleeping. He drank in the sleek curves of her hips, the full lush breasts, and the pouting lips.

After the shared passion of last night, he was hard-pressed not to wake her and
take her here, in his carriage.

She had an exquisite body, lush, slender, and made for pleasure. He could hear her cries of passion in his head, and he grew hard.

He studied her intently. However, his chaotic feelings went deeper than the lure of beauty. He didn’t know what it was about her, but something in her called to him. When he had been forced to marry her, he’d prayed he didn’t come to loathe going home. To loathe having to share his bed with a woman he had absolutely no feelings for whatsoever. No respect. No admiration.

The ache in his groin put paid to loathing. He wanted her with every fiber of his being.

He swallowed hard. Now Sebastian was full of admiration for Beatrice. Last night she’d been terrified of sharing her body with him, yet when he’d asked for her trust she had given it without hesitation.

He’d taken his time introducing her to lovemaking; he’d owed her that gift.

He’d been her first lover, the poignancy of the moment not lost on him. He’d wanted the night to be magical for her. To let her experience passion for the first time, to watch the play of emotions on her face and to feel how her body responded to him.

The awakening of her womanhood was a gift he’d cherish always. As she had on the day on the dock, when she had almost drowned, and then propositioned the man who she thought had killed her brother, Beatrice had faced last night with much courage and bravery. He couldn’t help but admire her. There were no tears or hysterics. She just calmly put herself into his hands.

She’d trusted him. Could he trust her in return?

What disturbed him was the fact he had found making love to Beatrice rather more enjoyable than he had expected.

He gazed down upon her in her sleep, dispassionately analyzing her. She wasn’t a stunningly beautiful woman—not in Serena’s league. He frowned at the thought. No, he was wrong. In her own way she was. She was pretty until she smiled. When she smiled, it was as if her face came to life. Her eyes took on a luminous sparkle and the pallor of her skin seemed to take on an ethereal glow. Then she could challenge Helen of Troy’s crown; then she was exceedingly beautiful.

He twisted in his seat, uncomfortable with the realization that even now he desired her. He wanted her with a burning need—here, now, in this carriage. His mind ran to the feel of her skin, to the firmness of her breasts if he loosened her gown and
let his hands and mouth roam.

Damn it
. He didn’t want to desire his wife too much. Sure, he wanted to enjoy bedding her in order to get her with child, but the purpose of lying with one’s wife was for begetting an heir. A mistress was for pleasure and one’s baser desires. He did not like the feelings rioting in his chest. Beatrice shouldn’t consume his thoughts. He forced his mind to move on to other, more important matters.

The other good news from the recent days’ events was the fact he was unlikely to have killed Doogie Hennessey. Doogie’s shot came after his. So, if he’d killed Doogie instantly, how could Doogie have fired? No. Someone else fired that second shot and he bet it was that shot that killed Doogie. He could face his wife with a clear conscience. He didn’t understand why that was so important, but for some reason he wanted Beatrice to like him. He didn’t want to have to spend the rest of his life with a woman who resented him or even hated him. That would not be good for their children or conducive to a peaceful life.

When they arrived back in London, Beatrice did not wake, even when the carriage stopped. Carefully gathering her in his arms, he carried her up to her room, gently stripped her down to her shift, and tucked her into bed. He smiled to himself. She would soon have a lady’s maid to see to her dress, but he loved feeling her skin, watching the delights of her body be displayed to his gaze. He started at the realization he’d like to undress her every night.

He
was
in a bad way.

She was exhausted. It had been a harrowing few days for his wife. Stress-filled days that she had faced and conquered. Warmth invaded his chest until he noticed the silly smile on his face and the fact that he was gently stroking her cheek. He abruptly stepped back.

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