The Actor and the Earl (11 page)

S
EBASTIAN
had barely been able to meet Miriam’s eye when he’d changed, and he suspected by the way she had tutted at the grass stains on the skirt that she knew why he was so embarrassed. At least the other guests didn’t seem to know by his expression alone. Their numbers had swelled to over thirty by the time Sebastian joined them all in the great hall. Eleanor was engrossed in conversation with a man who wasn’t Anthony, which Sebastian hoped meant she had taken Anthony’s words in the maze to heart.

Sebastian startled as a hand rested on his hip unexpectedly. “There you are,” said Anthony. “I was about to send out a search party.”

His eyes sparkled, and he pressed a kiss to Sebastian’s cheek. “We can’t have a feast to celebrate that there is a new Lady of Crofton Hall if the guest of honor is missing.”

“I’m sorry. I had to wait for Miriam to bring me a new set of clothes.”

His cheeks burned at Anthony’s salacious leer. “I will never be able to play hide and seek again without thinking of your wonderfully talented mouth.”

“Anthony!”

“I only speak the truth. Now let me show off my new wife before we sit down to eat.”

Much like the wedding feast, Sebastian wasn’t able to remember many of the names of the people he was introduced to, and when they sat down to eat, he was once again at the opposite end of the table to Anthony and next to Richard and Elaine.

“So, Bronwyn,” began Richard, “have you spoken with Lord Anthony about your brother?”

“Yes, and I have sent word to him. I hope he will be at the hall very soon.”

“A pity he is not here tonight. I understand there will be a troupe of players performing a few scenes.”

“Richard!” said Anne sharply. “It was meant to be a surprise.”

A band of minstrels accompanied the meal, and the kitchens had done a wonderful job of preparing a sumptuous feast. As the meal came to an end, Sebastian noticed that Anthony had moved away from the table and was standing with a fair-haired man of his own age, engaged in what looked like quite a serious conversation. Muscular of build and broad of chest, the man was almost the mirror opposite of Sebastian, and Sebastian saw the warmth of Anthony’s affection for the other man as he squeezed his bicep. They shared a toast as their conversation came to an end.

Sebastian wasn’t sure if he should interrupt, but Anthony turned and saw him, and beckoned him over.

“This is Lord Edward Fenson. We’ve been friends since school, and we both had the pleasure of attending at the Faculty of Arts at university.”

Sebastian curtseyed. “A pleasure, my lord.”

Although he schooled his features quickly, there was no mistaking that Edward thought he was a strange choice of woman for his friend. “Lady Bronwyn.”

“I hear we have some special entertainment this evening,” said Sebastian, in part to deflect his own discomfort.

“Oh, you have found out about my surprise.” Anthony’s mock pout was strangely endearing. “I thought you would enjoy a scene or two from Shakespeare, to bring a little of London to the provinces to help you settle.”

“That was very thoughtful of you.”

“Indeed,” said Edward with a wry smile, “I see that marriage is already turning you into a better man.”

“Ignore the fool, Bronwyn. His mind has been affected by the mead,” said Anthony, sending a withering scowl at his friend. He led Sebastian away to the other end of the great hall, where the servants had set out seating and moved away tables to create an open space, and guided Sebastian into the empty chair at the front in the center.

Sebastian was torn between excitement at seeing what would be performed and worry that one of the actors might be someone he had worked with before. The players arrived to a fanfare from the minstrels, and Sebastian relaxed when he didn’t recognize a single one of them. Though at the first line from Benedick’s speech lamenting Beatrice from
Much Ado About Nothing
, he saw Anthony’s sideways glance, which he returned with a smirk. The actors were good, their timing with each other perfect, and Sebastian couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in the audience rather than on stage, and he relished the change.

Anthony leaned in and whispered, “The man playing Beatrice is a pale imitation of you.”

“You flatter me, but I think you are unfairly biased.”

Anthony’s chortle was lost in the applause of the audience. The players changed, and Sebastian was delighted as he watched the donkey-headed Bottom and a dazed Titania act out one of his favorite scenes. As the actors finished, they all appeared together to enjoy the appreciation of the crowd, and Sebastian clapped louder than anyone around him, and beamed at Anthony.

“This was wonderful—thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

There was dancing to follow, and Sebastian found himself monopolized by Anthony, and even though he trod on the other man’s foot several times, Anthony refused to let Sebastian dance with anyone else, chasing away the other offers with a simple “Tonight my wife will dance only with me,” to those who tried to cut in.

At last the main event of the evening began to draw to a close. Many of the men were already engaged in card games as the women headed off to bed.

“I think I shall retire,” said Sebastian, as he noticed Anthony eyeing up whether or not to join in a game of cards at a nearby table.

“I will not be long, I promise—maybe a hand or two.”

Sebastian was confused. “My lord?”

“I was hoping you would sleep in my bed tonight.”

“Please do not misunderstand me. I would like that, but I am very tired, and I’m sure I will be asleep by the time you retire.”

Anthony shushed him. “I understand completely. I just wish to sleep entwined around you.”

Sebastian could not stop the smile from escaping across his face, happy at the implication of Anthony’s words, and the thought that maybe the strange relationship he had found himself in would bloom into something more than just sex and him playing Bronwyn, the socially acceptable bride for Earl Crofton.

T
HE
hall was still busy, guests making the most of the pleasant spring weather and Anthony’s excellent hospitality. The only place Sebastian could find for a few quiet moments was his own room, which although spacious, became claustrophobic after a few hours, especially when the weather was being so agreeable. He’d already spent an hour with William that morning, telling him stories of faeries and mythological creatures, and now he was bored.

Leaving behind the book he was reading, he went in search of Anthony, hoping he could get him to show him some more of the grounds of the hall. He’d stopped a servant to discern Anthony’s whereabouts and had been directed to the east wing where Anthony was working in his study.

The door was ajar, and he could hear voices. He’d been in enough plays to know no good would come of hanging around a door listening in, and was about to knock and enter when he heard a voice he recognized as Edward Fenson say something that made him stop.

“What if you’re caught? You could both lose your heads.”

“We are being careful. And you had not guessed the truth, why would anyone else?” was Anthony’s reply.

“I know your reasoning, but this is madness. And I see the way she—
he
—looks at you. What happens when you get bored of this farce, get bored of him? Will you discard him like you did all the others?”

“That is not fair.”

Edward scoffed. “You are who you are, Anthony. Why should this boy change you when the others that came before him couldn’t?”

Sebastian held his breath, waiting to hear Anthony’s retort, hoping to hear his denial. “I will not talk of this with you.”

A noise behind him made Sebastian turn, and he saw a servant approaching. If he did not wish to be caught listening at the door, then he needed to do something quick. He knocked on the door of the study, and without waiting to be invited, he entered.

Anthony and Edward stared at him, both of them wearing the same uneasy expression. “Oh, I did not realize you had company,” said Sebastian, inwardly thanking his acting skills that he sounded genuinely surprised. “I wondered if you’d like to show me more of the grounds, but I see you are busy.”

Sebastian backed out of the room before Anthony could answer and all but ran back to his own room. His head swam with the implications of what he had overheard, not only that someone else now knew about their secret but that Anthony had not argued further with his intentions. There was no way he could talk to Anthony about this, not without admitting he’d been listening to his private conversation. There was a knock to his door and it opened. Anthony stood, waiting to enter.

“Edward has left. I am free if you still wish to explore the grounds.”

What he really wanted to do was hide in his room, but that would only cause more questions. “Perfect. Perhaps we can also discuss my brother’s arrival.”

Anthony offered Sebastian his arm, and he placed his hand in the crook of Anthony’s elbow. “Sounds like an excellent idea. Let us head down by the lake.”

Some of the guests were playing bowls as they walked past, and Anthony declined their invitation to join them. They walked the perimeter of the lake. The weather was warm, and there was a gentle breeze, causing ripples in the water.

“Have you decided on why your brother will make an appearance?”

“I was thinking that, before Sebastian can be often seen around the hall, Bronwyn will need a legitimate reason for not being available.”

“We did talk of this before. Perhaps it is time for Bronwyn’s mystery illness to manifest?” suggested Anthony.

“It is as good a ruse as any,” said Sebastian. “And it would give Sebastian a reason to be a frequent visitor, if he was concerned for his sister.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“I could pretend to faint and be taken to my room.”

Anthony hummed in agreement. “When?”

“How far do you reckon you could carry me?” he asked, trying to appraise Anthony’s strength and failing. “I mean, if I was to keel over now, would you be able to get me back to the hall without dropping me?”

“You mean to faint now?” he asked, surprised.

“Why not?”

Anthony looked back to the house. “I’m not sure I could carry you from here, but definitely from the main lawn.”

“Then why don’t we walk back, and I can keel over in front of the bowls match?”

“Do you think your acting skills are up to it?” said Anthony, grinning.

Sebastian smacked him across the arm. “If I can pretend to be your devoted wife, then I can manage a fake swoon.”

Sebastian set off back toward the house, Anthony following and not being able to hold in his sniggers. He reached the lawn, swayed from side to side just long enough ensure Anthony knew what was about to happen, and pretended to faint, hoping Anthony would manage to catch him before he hit the grass.

He heard the gasps from the female guests as he swooned and was swept into Anthony’s arms, and was vaguely aware that the guests had gathered around. “I need to get Bronwyn inside,” said Anthony, and Sebastian was impressed that Anthony sounded genuinely worried.

Sebastian kept his eyes closed as he was carried back to the hall. He’d expected Anthony to struggle more, but he didn’t appear to have a problem with his weight, and they were back inside in a matter of minutes. For good effect, he groaned and made his eyes flicker open as he was placed in a chair.

A number of guests had followed them inside, and Miriam had also arrived to see what the commotion was all about.

“What happened?” Sebastian asked, making sure he sounded woozy and rubbing his hand over his forehead.

“Are you feeling all right?” asked Anthony, doing a fine job of acting fretful.

“A little light-headed.”

Miriam barged her way through the small crowd that had gathered around the chair Sebastian had been placed in. “My lady, what is wrong?”

“I only fainted, nothing that won’t be solved by lying down for a while.”

Miriam pursed her lips. “Then we should get you to your room.”

Anthony took Miriam’s words as an order and went to pick up Sebastian again, but Sebastian batted him away. “I can walk. It was only a dizzy spell. There is no need to carry me.”

“What if you were to faint on the stairs? I would not forgive myself if you were to hurt yourself.” Only Sebastian saw the glint in Anthony’s eye.

“Very well,” he said with a put-upon sigh. “Just don’t drop me.”

He put his arms around Anthony’s neck and was hoisted out of the chair. Being carried up the stairs with his eyes open was far worse than being carried over the flat, and Anthony sniggered as he pretended to lose his grip halfway up. Miriam led the way and opened the door to Bronwyn’s room before instructing Anthony to set him down on the bed.

“I think we should loosen your corset. It will help you breathe,” ordered Miriam.

Anthony and Sebastian shared a sheepish look, and Anthony closed the bedroom door. “I was acting,” admitted Sebastian.

“What?” asked Miriam, her eyes narrowing and her hands on her hips.

“Bronwyn’s brother will be arriving, and I needed a reason to be out of sight from time to time. We thought a fake illness might be the best route to take.”

Miriam did not look happy and huffed out an annoyed breath. “Next time you decide to act out a scheme that might worry me half to death, please do me the courtesy of letting me know.”

“Sorry, Miriam.”

Anthony kissed her on the cheek. “It was a spur of the moment thing. I promise Sebastian will be less thoughtless in future.”

“Me?” Sebastian scowled. “You were involved too.”

“I don’t care. You both should know better,” she snapped. Then, remembering who she was talking to, added, “my lord.”

Anthony chuckled. “You are, of course, right. We are both very sorry, and in order to make sure our little plan is to be believed, I suggest we leave Bronwyn to rest.”

Sebastian released the ties on his corset with a happy sigh. “Could someone bring me some supper? I’m actually looking forward to eating an entire meal without this torture device curbing my appetite.”