Dance with Deception: Scandalous Secrets, Book 1 - Exclusive Edition (Scandalous Secrets - Exclusive Edition) (14 page)

Once inside the small powder room, Victoria locked the door behind them for privacy then handed Sebastian’s note to Gwen.

Gwen unfolded the missive with trembling hands, noting it contained less than three sentences before reading the neat script. Sebastian needed to meet with her. All she had to do was provide Victoria with the time and place. He had ended the note with a heart-wrenching request.

You owe me an answer
.

Biting her lower lip, Gwen contemplated the particulars. “I won’t be able to meet up with him during the day, I’m afraid. Papa has forbidden me from riding.”

“Then it must be between sunset and dawn,” Tori whispered in a conspiratorial tone.

“Where on earth would we meet before dawn?” Gwen’s expression turned pensive. “We mustn’t be caught.”

Tori grabbed Gwen’s arm in her excitement. “I know! Meet at the small chapel on our estate. It’s
not far from your manor, just over the hill a little ways.”

“The chapel it is, then,” Gwen stated with aplomb, but when? Better to get it over with and put them both out of their misery. “Tonight, before dawn,” she said to Tori, adding with a curt nod. It was decided.

Tori turned to take her leave, but Gwen detained her with a hand on her arm. “I must return home before anyone gets suspicious. My father awakens early and Keir has been joining him for breakfast.”

Her friend’s expression was wrought with trepidation. “Are you truly going to marry that man?”

Gwen gave Tori a long-suffering look. “Please, Victoria, not you, too. Why must everyone make me explain myself?”

“I thought you loved my brother.” Tears welled in her friend’s eyes.

Gwen met Tori’s gaze and took the young woman’s hand. “I love your brother with my very being.”

“Then why—”

“I will approach my father tonight and inform him of Sebastian’s proposal. I’ll beg him to break the betrothal agreement with Keir and allow me to marry the man I love, your brother.”

Victoria’s eyes grew in size. They looked as if she had been jarred awake from a terrible dream. “Then you intend to marry Sebastian!”

“Darling, Tori, it isn’t that simple.” Gwen squeezed Tori’s hand in an attempt to get through to her. “My love for your brother may not be enough
to convince my father to cancel this betrothal agreement to Keir. Don’t get your hopes up, or Sebastian’s for that matter.”

“But you’re going to try?” Victoria pressed.

Gwen hugged her friend. “I promise I will try my hardest.”

Upon exiting the powder room, the two ladies took separate paths. When Gwen reached her party, she was relieved to learn that their carriage was being drawn. She couldn’t get away from Keir fast enough.

Once their group reached Ainsley, Gwen cried off drinks, claiming a headache. As she bid goodnight to her father and betrothed, Tristan announced that he, too, wished to retire and escorted his sister upstairs to her suite.

She motioned him into her bedchamber then closed the door, leaning against it for support. “Tristan, I am about to do something reckless and I need your advice.”

“Dearest sister,” he drawled, inebriated from the Duke of Davenport’s fine spirits. “Nothing could be more imprudent than marrying Keir.”

Tristan flopped onto her bed, staring at the vaulted ceiling. He looked ridiculous sprawled on her pink satin bedspread. Gwen couldn’t help but grin.

“Tristan.” She shook his boot until he glanced in her direction. “As soon as Keir leaves, I’m telling Papa that I want to marry Sebastian.”

Tristan bolted upright. Apparently her statement was enough to sober him. “Tell me more.”

“You were correct about Sebastian’s intentions.
He proposed to me and I want to marry him, more than I’ve ever wanted anything in life. I love him, Tristan. I’ve loved him since the moment I was reacquainted with him at the Stocktons’ ball. Surely Papa won’t reject my wishes now, under these circumstances?”

Her brother studied her, despair marring his handsome features.

Gwen clamped her hands over her face, aware of the grinding pain in her heart. “This is hopeless, isn’t it?”

“I’m not saying it’s hopeless.” Tristan shook his head as if clearing his thoughts. “However, we do have our work cut out for us.”

“We?” Gwen met his gaze, her eyes bright.

Tristan feigned offense. “You didn’t think I’d let you waltz into the lion’s den without assistance, did you?”

In response to her brother’s loving concern, she wrapped her arms around his neck in a tight hug. “I’m sorry that I was so mean to you earlier.”

“Don’t forgive me just yet. If Father doesn’t agree to release you of this agreement, I won’t relent until you find a way out of this marriage to Keir.” Tristan patted her back as if to accentuate each of his next words. “Scandal or no, do you hear me?”

Gwen nodded.

Her brother then removed his filigreed pocket watch from his vest, checking the time. “Keir should be leaving soon. I suggest we wait for Father in his sitting room. Surprise is our best form of attack.”

Tristan kissed her forehead. “No matter what Father says, know that I am proud of you.” He then gave her an encouraging smile before leading her out of the door to her bedchamber and down the hall into their father’s sitting room.

It wasn’t long before the elder MacAlistair strode through the door. He appeared surprised by the sight of his youngest children waiting for him. “I thought you both retired for the evening.”

Lachlan swung the door closed so hard that the frame rattled.

“Papa, there is something I must discuss with you,” Gwen said, her tone clear and firm.

Lachlan glared at her, a sense of dread caught in his throat.

What in the hell are they up to?

Whatever it was, he predicted he wouldn’t like it.

“Father, please sit with us,” his daughter urged.

Lachlan eased down in his favorite chair, one made of soft, worn brown leather. He then let out a long-suffering sigh.

“Are you comfortable?” Gwen asked.

“You are feeling fine, are you not, Father?” Tristan’s tone was unyielding. “You and Keir seemed to have a grand time at the ball tonight.”

Not knowing what else to say, Lachlan grumbled something that resembled a “Yes.”

Tristan continued his recital. “You even felt well enough for drinks after our outing. I dare say you are making a remarkable recovery.”

Lachlan’s mood soured. He didn’t trust his voice so instead he nodded.

Gwen took his cool hand in hers. “You’ve known since you arranged my betrothal to Keir that I don’t love him. Papa, I am in love with the Sebastian and tonight, he has asked me to marry him.”

“And you think I will consent?” He jerked his hand away.

Her eyes narrowed. “Why wouldn’t you? We can both have what we want. You will see me wed and I shall marry the man I love.”

Lachlan shunned his daughter, instead turning to his son, pointing a crooked finger at him. “What did you have to do with this, Tristan? Keir told me of your behavior toward him tonight.”

“The man was leering at my sister’s bosom,” Tristan thundered. “One would think that would be reason enough to call off their betrothal.”

Gwen studied her father’s reaction to Tristan’s words. His expression was menacing. To steer her father’s attention away from her brother, she asked, “Papa, will you look at me?”

After a moment’s hesitation, he turned toward her at last. Although she doubted she could appease him, she had to try one last time. “I love Sebastian and he wishes to marry me. Can’t you be happy for me?”

“Did you never dare to think that the reason the Duke wishes to marry you tonight is because of that cleavage you showed?” Her father jeered.

In response, heat crept across Gwen’s cheeks until she was certain that they were a brilliant shade of crimson. She was shamed by her father’s accusation and his crude statement. It reminded her
of Keir’s, and for the first time she noted how alike the two men truly were.

“That’s not true, Papa. Sebastian showed interest in me long before this evening’s events, and I fought against it because of my obligation to you.” She studied him, well aware of her father’s contemptuous glare. Regardless, she would incur his wrath and speak her mind. “Tonight I realized that I will never be happy with Keir. It wasn’t a welcome revelation, but it is the truth.”

“You selfish little twit,” Lachlan spat.

Gwen’s heart sank at the realization that her own father despised her so. In truth, he showed revulsion for both her and Tristan. Dear God, why did he hate his children so much? Is this why Colin left them without a word? With a sudden clarity, Gwen began to view her father with bright eyes and a clear head.

“The Duke is of the same seed as his father. I will never allow you to marry him, Gwendolyn. You will do as I say and marry Keir. Do you understand?”

“Why are you insisting upon Keir?” Her blood turned icy. “Sebastian possesses a great deal more wealth, not to mention a more respected title and higher social standing. Why are you intent on my marrying a man of a lower station?”

He dismissed her question with a wave of his hand. “Our chat is over. Both of you go to bed.”

Gwen lifted her quivering chin and met his heated gaze. “I refuse to marry Keir.”

“You will,” he commanded, his voice low and dangerous. “You will do as I say. Our conversation
is over. Go to bed, Gwendolyn.”

Gwen stood and walked to the door on shaky knees. She grasped the cold brass doorknob then turned to her brother.

Tristan appeared angry and bitter. His expression told her he wasn’t ready to be dismissed by their father.

Though tears welled in her eyes, Gwen’s pride still dictated that she not shed one tear in front of her father. Instead, she fled to her bedchamber, slamming the door behind her before reading the clock on the mantle above her fireplace.

Only a few hours remained until she would meet with Sebastian.

She paced her bedchamber in the hopes that a few laps would free her from the restlessness that had crawled under her skin. When the exertion failed to calm her, Gwen decided to head toward the chapel early, lest her father call for her to chat after his conversation with Tristan ended. She rumpled her duvet and stood back. It appeared slept in. Gwen then changed into a gray riding habit – one not likely to attract attention – and removed her ermine cape and gloves from her wardrobe before creeping down the servants’ stairwell. She picked up a lantern along the way, exiting the house through the servants’ wing.

On her way to the stables, Gwen inhaled noting the scent of rain assailing her nostrils. Fog hovered inches from the ground while dew clung to her skirts.

The night was dark, much like her mood. Dense clouds hid the silver moon. It wouldn’t soon
resurface.

She saddled then mounted Majesty, racing toward the small chapel where she was to meet Sebastian. The cold and damp weather soon turned into a light mist and Gwen raised her hood over her head.

With each trot of her horse’s hooves, she felt more betrayed, and tears soon blurred her vision. Why did her own father refuse her plea to wed the man she loved? Every time she admonished him, the reality of his precarious health would hit her and compound her anxiety and guilt though not as much as it had previously.

Why the subtle change?

Tonight had proven that her father was indeed a stranger to her.

Gwen shivered again. Even her ermine cape couldn’t ward off the chills that shuddered throughout her body as she decided that there was no way she would ever marry Keir, not after his behavior tonight. Although crying off would ruin her reputation and disgrace her family, Gwen had no choice. To spend a lifetime with Keir would be sheer torture.

However, in spite of her refusal to marry Keir, Gwen vowed to protect Sebastian and his sister from her own disgrace. He had given up so much for the betterment of his sister and Gwen refused to eradicate Sebastian’s efforts by eloping with him and defaming his family’s honorable name.

She had to sacrifice the man she loved. It was the only way she could spare his family from her scandal. But how could she ever make him
understand? As sure as the sun would rise on the morrow, Gwen was certain that Sebastian would never accept her decision. He would stand by her, of that she was certain, even if it meant that his family was ruined along with hers. She was left with no choice but to save him from himself.

The sound of Gwen’s heartbeat thudding in her ears was almost as loud as Majesty’s hooves pounding against the hard earth. She tried to concentrate on the noise in an effort to will her tears to cease.

The next few hours would be the most difficult of her life.

Gwen blinked her eyes against the barrage of burning tears that blurred her vision as Majesty slowed to a canter, the small chapel now ahead of them. Enveloped by a thick fog, it appeared gothic at first glance. Then the moon appeared from behind a drifting patch of thick clouds, illuminating the chapel in an unearthly bluish hue. The eerie sight chilled her even further, sending strands of apprehension up her spine. Creeping like a vine through to her very soul.

She dismounted, tied Majesty’s reins to a nearby tree then entered the dark chapel. Squinting, her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness as she proceeded to the altar and knelt.

Please God, help me
.

Gwen prayed for another solution, one in which she wouldn’t have to surrender Sebastian yet she found no solace. There was no other way. She had to let him go. She couldn’t embroil his family in her own disgrace. Though she knew it to be the noble
course of action, the realization failed to prepare her for the confrontation to come.

Dear God, give me strength
.

The creaking of the heavy oak entry door interrupted Gwen’s inner torment. Sebastian had arrived. She heard him place something on a pew before he walked the length of the aisle and knelt beside her, wrapping her in a tight embrace.

Gwen closed her eyes and leaned into him, aware that this would be the last night she would ever be in his arms.

“Have you been waiting long, Darling?” he asked in a soft, tender voice.