The Actor and the Earl (21 page)

Another day of being himself and acting like a man of twenty rather than the wife of an earl had chased away the last of his black mood, even if it had not improved his aim one whit. And by the time he was ready to return to Crofton Hall the next afternoon, Sebastian was feeling much more like his normal, optimistic self.

He dressed as Bronwyn for supper, and even though he was unsure if Anthony had returned or if there would be guests, he decided that, after two days away, it would be best if the lady of the hall was seen.

“You need not have bothered,” said Anthony as they met in the corridor en route to the dining room. “We do not have guests tonight; you could have stayed as you were.”

Deciding against replying in an equally terse manner, Sebastian said, “Anthony, I did not know if you were here, or still in London.”

“You were only away for two nights. I had no intention of being absent for any longer than you.”

Sebastian did not know what to say. Anthony was distant, with a reserve Sebastian hadn’t seen before. He moved forward to press a kiss to Anthony’s cheek, but Anthony turned away.

“What is wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong. I just have no desire to be covered in your rouge.”

They ate together, and the conversation was stilted and awkward. No matter what subject Sebastian started, Anthony would be brusque and indifferent, until Sebastian couldn’t bring himself to continue trying. Anthony excused himself straight after supper, Sebastian left confused and alone, sitting at the dining table with no idea what he’d done to cause the situation to be so strained.

Chapter 18

I
T
HAD
been nearly a week since Sebastian had returned from Highdall Hall, and every day since there had been something that had irritated Anthony further. Whether it was him leaving a book out of place in the library or a comment misinterpreted, everything that Sebastian did seemed to result in a snide remark or dirty look. Standing outside Anthony’s study, Sebastian didn’t bother to wait for his knock to be answered. Anthony was annoyed with him already; another small infraction would hardly make matters worse. He was surprised to find Anthony not seated at his desk, but instead standing by the window looking out across the grounds.

“May I speak with you?” asked Sebastian, closing the door firmly behind him.

“I presume from your dress that Bronwyn has once again taken to her bed?”

“Is that part of the problem? Do you wish me to spend more time as her, and less as myself?”

Anthony crossed his arms over his chest. “What nonsense do you speak of now? There is no problem.”

“No problem? We snipe at each other on a daily basis, you’ve hardly touched me in the last week, and you think there is no problem?”

“A few cross words and a week lacking in intimacy is hardly problematic, Sebastian. Although I should not expect a boy of twenty to know such things.”

“You call me a boy and act as if there is nothing wrong, when it is you who is acting like a child. All I wish is to know how to fix whatever has broken.” Sebastian took a few hesitant steps forward. “Ever since Bronwyn left and the accident, you have grown cooler toward me. And I wish it was not so.”

Anthony’s coldness appeared to melt, and he covered the distance between them in a few strides, taking hold of Sebastian’s hand. “I am tired and irritable. And I have taken out my foul moods on you as an easy target. Believe me when I say I am sorry.”

Sebastian wished he could believe that the answer was so simple, but he couldn’t. “Please, Anthony, I must know the truth. If you have tired of me, if this is no longer what you wish, then I would rather know than continue in this half existence.”

“I could never tire of you. Never.” Anthony looked close to tears. He reached out to cup Sebastian’s jaw, his thumb stroking his cheek. “But I have taken so much from you, removed you from your life and kept you here for my own selfish needs. I cannot help but think it would be better if we had never entered into our agreement.”

Sebastian was quick to answer. “You have not taken anything that was not freely given. I admit that there are days when I wish I was back in London, but I am happy here when we are not fighting. Can we not find a way back to even ground?”

Anthony’s kiss was gentle, a brush of his lips across Sebastian’s. “I would very much like to.”

There was a knock at the door, and they stepped away from each other, Anthony calling out for whoever was outside to come in. The door opened, and Edward entered. Sebastian’s heart sank at the look of warmth Anthony sent in the direction of the blond.

“Edward,” said Anthony, “I was not expecting you for a visit. Why are you here? No doubt to drink my good wine and lighten my purse during cards.”

Edward tried to hold back a choked sob but failed, and, stumbling, he collapsed into a nearby chair. “The
Golden Hope
has been lost at sea with all hands.”

Anthony was at Edward’s side in an instant, his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Are you sure Marcus was aboard?”

“Yes, he sent word to me last week that he would be.”

Even though Sebastian thought his conversation with Anthony was far from over, he could not ignore the grief painted across Edward’s face. He could continue speaking to Anthony later, but now Edward needed his friend. And Sebastian hoped they’d talked enough to reach a truce they would be able to build on later.

“I am sorry for your loss, Edward. I hope you are mistaken, and your friend was not onboard,” said Sebastian.

Without waiting for Edward’s response, Sebastian hurried out of Anthony’s study, lamenting that it was too late in the afternoon to head out for a ride. The sun was already low in the sky, and he knew Star failed to live up to her name by being rather skittish after dark. He spent a few hours with a new collection of pamphlets that had arrived from London, keeping the more salacious ones for when he was in a better-suited mood.

Supper came and went without Anthony or Edward in attendance, and Sebastian found himself dining alone for the first time in several months. It was very unlike Anthony not to let him know if he did not intend to be at supper, but he suspected Edward’s news was grave enough to dent even the heartiest of appetites.

Deciding to collect the prequel to one of the stories he had planned to read, Sebastian headed to the library. The halls of the manor were quiet, and Sebastian didn’t see a single servant as he made his way through the east wing. With no guests, fewer candles had been lit, and the corridors were darker than normal, so dark that Sebastian only avoided crashing into a suit of armor at the very last moment.

The door to the library was closed, but Sebastian heard a loud groan, followed seconds later by another that made him stop, his hand hovering above the handle. His stomach rolled with queasy anticipation as he reached forward and opened the door, desperate to find that the noises weren’t what he suspected they were.

On the floor in front of the fire was Anthony, kneeling over Edward, their mouths locked in a heated kiss, their hands roaming in a fumbling attempt to unfasten clothing. The firelight illuminated their passion, the reds and oranges dancing across them, painting them in stark relief. Sebastian couldn’t take his eyes off the scene before him, the two men exploring each other with an easy knowledge that showed that this was not the first time they had been together. He gaped wordlessly, as if someone had reached into his mouth and stolen his words, his heart beating so loudly in his chest that he was convinced it would burst. Sebastian staggered backward into the corridor, hitting the wall and connecting with an ornamental sword and shield which, to his mortification, clattered noisily to the floor.

Anthony’s head snapped up at the commotion, breaking the kiss with Edward. Horror flooded his face, his jaw slack and his eyes wide as they rested on Sebastian.

“Sebastian!” he called, trying to get to his feet, while Edward looked equally dismayed.

Sebastian ran. Ignoring Anthony’s calls, he didn’t look back, didn’t want to hear another poor excuse, another pack of lies and insincere apologies. His heart breaking with every step, he raced out of the manor, and didn’t stop until he reached the stables.

One of the senior servants had just arrived. He’d dismounted from a gray stallion, and the groom was removing a pack from the back of the animal. Without thinking, Sebastian pushed the servant out of the way and flung himself into the horse’s saddle. There were cries of consternation from the two men, and the groom reached out to try and grab the reins to stop him. The stallion reared, but Sebastian managed to stay seated, and the servants backed away to avoid the horse’s deadly hooves. Wrestling for control, Sebastian managed to calm the horse enough for it to obey him. Kicking his heels, he urged it out of the courtyard, determined to put as much distance between himself and Anthony Crofton as possible. Sebastian pressed the horse to go faster, and they broke into a gallop.

This stallion had none of Star’s foibles about being ridden at night, nor did it care that they were charging through the wood and being struck by low-lying branches. The ground was soft due to heavy rain in the days before, but the horse was sure-footed and compensated naturally for the slippery surface. Sebastian didn’t care about the cold. While the largely cloudless sky had made the temperature fall, it meant that there was some light from the moon to filter through the branches, which had already lost their summer leaves.

The image of Anthony and Edward was burned into Sebastian’s mind. His vision swam with tears, but he refused to stop, only slowing to a trot in order to conserve the horse’s energy so he could make it to back to London in one ride. Reaching open ground, Sebastian saw the main road to the capital and made for it. He’d left with nothing but the clothes on his back and the coins in his purse that Anthony had given him for playing cards. It was hardly enough to buy food for a few days, let alone lodgings. His only real option was to head to the townhouse and hope Claire would let him in without asking too many questions, though he knew that was unlikely.

Sebastian could see the city in the distance, the glow from thousands of candlelit windows lighting up the night’s sky even though it must be close to midnight. Nausea built up inside of him. How could he have been so stupid to think that a man like Anthony Crofton would be happy to settle for him when there was someone like Edward nearby? How could he have let himself fall so far in love with a man who would never see him as anything more than a convenience? He brushed away his tears, but releasing his emotions did nothing to ease the pain of Anthony’s betrayal. The broken promise that Sebastian would be his only lover while he played Bronwyn was nothing but false words to keep him quiet.

As Sebastian entered the city, the roads began to look familiar, and he decided he would return the horse to Anthony’s townhouse in the morning. It was much easier to cross London late at night, the occasional carriage taking the richer members of society home and the odd cart of goods was the only traffic, and it was not long before Sebastian was dismounting in the small courtyard at the back of Claire’s family’s townhouse.

As he tied the horse to a post, the door to the kitchens opened, and he saw the cook appear holding a lantern. “Who is it?” she called out.

She squinted at him as he got closer. “Master Sebastian. We were not expecting you, sir. Nothing is prepared.”

“Who is it, Daisy?” came Claire’s voice from inside.

The cook stepped out of the way to let Sebastian in, and Claire’s face morphed quickly to concern. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s a long story.”

Claire grabbed Sebastian by the arm and dragged him down the corridor and into a small parlor leading off the dining room. She pressed a glass of port into his hand. “What has happened?”

“I have been a fool,” he said, knocking back the port in one gulp and spluttering as it almost choked him.

Claire refilled his glass. “Sip it this time. You already look half dead—we don’t want you to complete the effect. Now why have you been a fool?”

Sebastian stared at the surface of the deep red liquid. “I caught him in the arms of another man.”

Claire bit her lip. “How is that a problem, Sebastian? You are only playing his wife. I don’t understand why you would be so upset.”

“We had come to an understanding, and I took him at his word.”

“Please tell me you have not fallen in love with Anthony Crofton.”

Sebastian couldn’t look at her. “I can’t.”

“Oh, Sebastian.” Claire moved to embrace him. “How did this happen?”

“I told you we had an understanding. He said there would only be me.” He whispered his answer. “We were often intimate. And when we were together, he was so gentle, treating me as if I was something special, but I am nothing special to him.”

The tears rolled freely, and Claire held him as he sobbed. She stroked his hair and rocked him to and fro to try and calm him. “Shush now, Cousin. He is not worth your tears.”

“And yet I must go back at some point. We have an arrangement that I play Bronwyn. I do not have the money to pay him back. Everything went to pay my father’s debts to yours.”