The Duke's Night of Sin (26 page)

His strength drained from him. Sebastian lowered his hands and, though this felt so wrong, and it took every bit of restraint he possessed, he allowed Siusan to walk down the passage and out of his life.

For two hours Sebastian sat alone with a single crystal of brandy, not bringing it to his mouth even once.

Since he’d become the Duke of Exeter, whisky had become his close companion. It tamped down his nerves before appearing as Duke of Exeter the night of the gala. It launched him on his mission to locate the miss he believed he’d taken advantage of in the library.

It quieted his worries and gave him courage to attempt ice-slickened roads during a roaring storm. And, before Siusan arrived that evening, it had kept him company while he rehearsed his confession to Siusan—that he must marry another to preserve his honor.

He turned the glass around, letting its amber contents sparkle in the light of a candle. Why had it taken him so long to realize that brandy had never helped him at all—it only birthed greater woes.

His courage had to come from within himself. It was time to shoulder the responsibilities of the Duke of Exeter—and prove what true honor really was.

And he would begin with Lord Aster.

By the time Sebastian’s carriage reached Berkeley Square, it was hardly an appropriate time to call upon anyone, let alone the senior member of the House of Lords.

He approached the door, about to set the knocker to its rest, when it swung open and, to his astonishment, he was standing face-to-face with Basil Redbane. He narrowed his eyes.

“Your Grace, damn me! You about startled the life from my breast.” Redbane slapped one hand to his heart, while with the other he waved someone behind his back from the door.

Sebastian stepped closer and peered over Redbane’s shoulder. Miss Aster stood to the left of the door, her hand cupped over her mouth. “Good evening, Miss Aster.” He gave her a quick nod. “I have come to speak with your father … though I must assume he and your mother are not at home.” He glared at Redbane, whose cheeks, even in the dimness of the lamplight, were glowing like embers.

“Oh, Basil. What are we to do?” Miss Aster wailed. “He is certain to tell my father that you—”

Redbane shot his face around to her and growled. “Shut up, you stupid chit. Let me handle His Grace.”

“Do not fret, Miss Aster, since your father is not available, I shall speak with Mr. Redbane about recent developments.” Sebastian looked over Redbane’s shoulder. “Shall we speak inside … or in my carriage.”

“Oh, in your carriage, please, Duke. My parents should return from the musicale very soon.” Miss Aster set her hand on Redbane’s arm. “Please, Basil.” Though her eyes were filled with worry, she batted her lashes coquettishly. “Please.”

Redbane sighed and followed Sebastian down to the grand Exeter town carriage.

The moment the carriage lurched forward, Sebastian raised his fist.

Redbane raised his hands. “Now, now, Your Grace, let us not be rash.”

“Why not? What would you do to someone who tried to force you to accept responsibility for his own by-blow?”

“Figured that bit out, eh?” Redbane’s hands remained in the air, protecting his face.

“And then, sought to profit from it by placing a
bet through a proxy at White’s.” Sebastian sucked his lips into his mouth and raised his fist higher.

“Well, I credit you, little brother. I did not think you’d puzzle it through. Truly, I did not.”

Sebastian’s face muscles fell slack, and he slowly lowered his fist.

“Oh, so you hadn’t figured the last piece, eh?” A smirk slid over Redbane’s lips. “We are brothers … born on two very different sides of the blanket in the very same month. I was born on December 3, and you on December 19. Only, our father was not married to my mother, but instead to yours. You became a nobleman, while I became a tradesman, destined to live in the shadow of your splendor.”

This was all coming too fast. It could not be that he and this man shared the same blood. “Are you saying—”

“That when Quinn died so suddenly—and oh, yes, he knew all about me—except for that one slip of Fate, I would have become the Duke of Exeter.” His top lip curled back like a snarling dog’s. “How do you think it felt all those years being ignored by our father, watching him teach you to ride? Standing in the shadows, learning a trade while you were being packed off to fine schools. Watching you squander money when I had to sweat blood for every penny. And even
when I managed to make something of myself, you stepped in and accepted a lofty position backed by no more merit than an accident of birth.”

“You have done very, very well for yourself, Redbane, and you cannot fault me for the circumstances of my birth just as you cannot fault yourself.” Sebastian studied Redbane. As he looked at the man, he saw his father’s eyes and heavy jowls. This was no lie. This man was his brother.

“That’s rich, coming from you.” Redbane sneered.

“If your hatred of me lies so deep, why would you wish me to raise your child with Miss Aster? That makes no sense. Were you to marry her, your political career would surely benefit. Instead, you wish me to accept your responsibility.”

Redbane laughed. “Because, dear brother, though I was deprived of everything your noble birth ensured for you, my son would be the next Duke of Exeter.”

“And he would never know you and all you did. Would never know who you are.” Sebastian looked hard at Redbane. “Listen, man, marry Miss Aster. Raise your son to be the man you would have been. You have the means. Choose honor, because it is the right thing to do, Redbane, and you will never, ever, be like our father.”

Redbane’s mouth had fallen open, and he was blinking hard.

Sebastian glanced up through the window and saw that the carriage had ringed the square twice, and they were now approaching Aster House. He hammered his fist on the carriage wall, and the driver pulled the team to a halt and climbed down from his perch. The door opened, and the steps were let down. Silently, Redbane descended the steps to the road, then climbed the stairs to the walk.

“Be the honorable gentleman you aspired to be.” Sebastian called out to him. “The past is over, there is nothing we can do to change that. But you can shape your future, and that of your child, or you can become our father and live only for yourself. The choice is yours.”

S
ebastian squinted through the window as his carriage rolled to a stop before the Sinclair town house. The light of a single candle in one of the third-floor windows drew his eyes up to a woman peering down at him. During the past hour, clouds had drifted across the earlier clear sky, and whirling white flurries now spun through the air, obscuring his vision.
Siusan?

Flinging open the carriage door, he charged up the snow-dusted stairs to the door. It was late, but he had waited too long already to set everything to rights with the woman he loved.

He had just reached for the brass knocker when the front door opened a hand’s width, and Lady Priscilla Sinclair squeezed her face into the small opening. She appeared to be wearing naught but a nightdress wrapped with a mantle.

“You have to leave at once,” she hissed. “Our father is in residence, and he will not take a liking to a gentleman, duke or not, calling for my sister at such an hour.”

Sebastian shoved his boot into the gap to prevent her from closing the door. “I am not leaving until I see her.”

From the concerned expression on her face, she clearly took his words for truth. She turned her head and glanced behind her, then cracked the door open a bit wider and slipped through, pulling it nearly closed. “She’s not here, so
please
leave.”

He could see that she was telling the truth as well. “Where is she? Has she returned to Bath?”

Tears budded in Lady Priscilla’s eyes. “Our father does not yet know she has left London, but she has.”

Sebastian abruptly grasped her shoulders, startling her. He lifted his hands away, holding them momentarily in the air. “I apologize, Lady Priscilla, but I must know where she has gone.”

She rubbed the tears from her eyes. “My sister has left for Aberdeen—to protect you. She means to accept a teaching position there.” Lady Priscilla started to scoot back through the door.

He reached for her arm. “Scotland? When did she leave? Did she hire a carriage—” In his agitation, his tone grew louder and his grip on her tighter.

“Please be quiet.
Please.
My father cannot learn of this until tomorrow, when she will be safe from his reach.” She tried to tug her arm away.

Sebastian held her arm firmly. “Lady Priscilla, I cannot allow her to leave. Not when I have yet to ask her to marry me.”

Priscilla’s dark slashes of eyebrows shot toward her hairline. “But she was sure there was no future for the two of you. Your honor—”

“What honor would I have left if I dishonored your sister in a misguided attempt to right my father’s years of wrongs? I am my own man, I have my own sense of honor—and tonight that means I must find Siusan.” He opened his fingers one by one and allowed her to lower her arm as she considered his words.

“Grant ordered a traveling coach from Gower Mews and summoned it to the corner for her the
moment our father was asleep. From what I saw, it is large but slow.”

“My thanks, Priscilla.” Sebastian turned and started down the stairs. “Wish me luck.”

“If you hurry, you might still catch up with her—but I do wish you luck convincing her to return to London. Su is stubborn when she has set her mind, but I know too that she loves you deeply—enough to summon the courage to do what she fears most in life—leave her family.” She gave him a small wave, then moved back inside the house.

He turned again to leave but was stopped once more when a man called out to him. “Your Grace.” A small, balding man, who he remembered as Poplin. “Your Grace, might I impose on you to please apologize to Lady Siusan for me and inform her that the addressee was not at home and therefore, per her explicit instructions, the letter was not delivered.” The little man lifted his wiry eyebrows meaningfully.

Sebastian hesitantly took the letter and briefly looked down and saw Lord Aster, Berkeley Square, inked on the front. He looked up for further information, but Poplin had already disappeared inside.

Her confession was never delivered.

***

Tiny flakes of snow caught in Sebastian’s lashes as he peered through the open window of the carriage for any sight of Siusan’s coach. In the carriage’s lamplight he could see the tracks of another vehicle that had gone before, but those wheel ruts were quickly filling with snow.

Glimpses of their carriage accident pricked at his mind, and a growing fear began to nag. Not fear for himself, but for her.

Suddenly his driver called down to him. “There’s a coach straight ahead, Your Grace.”

“Run it down.” Sebastian leaned his shoulder out the carriage window and peered through the darts of snow ahead. Two lamplights illuminated a large carriage.

“He’s got a team of six, and I’ve got but two, though I shall give it all I’ve got.” Sebastian heard the crack of the driver’s whip in the air, and the carriage surged forward.

As the carriage gained on the coach, it became clear the road was not wide enough for the two vehicles to move side by side. “It’s not stopping. Are you able to pass and force the coach to stop?” Sebastian yelled up to the driver.

“Road is too narrow, but I can stop them.”

A moment later, the report of a gunshot rent the air. The coachman pulled his team to a halt.

Sebastian leaped from the carriage and rushed to the coach door, pulling it open. “Siusan?” He peered inside.
Damn me!
He lurched back in surprise when an old woman looked back at him. “I beg your pardon, dear lady. I thought you were someone else.”

Just then, Siusan leaned forward from the front bench of the coach. “When has that ever stopped you before?”

She gave him a small smile and gestured to the old woman. “Mrs. Patterson is headed for Edinburgh. There was only one traveling coach available this night, and she graciously agreed to share.”

He tipped his hat at Mrs. Patterson, then reached for Siusan’s hand and drew her out of the coach. “Siusan, please you cannot leave London.”

She pulled her hand back. “I must. Do you not understand, I must, to preserve your family’s honor?”

“No, Siusan. If you leave, you will take my honor with you.” He shook his hands, palms up. “Please, at least listen to what I must say to you. I love you. I love you and cannot live another day without you.”

Siusan’s eyes rounded, and she cupped her hand at her brow to shield her eyes from the driving snow as she stared back at him. She did not move or speak for a long while as she considered his words, though when she did, she called out to the driver. “Would you please remove my portmanteau from the coach? It seems I am no longer headed for Aberdeen … at least not on this snowy night.”

Mrs. Patterson tittered, then slid back on her seat and allowed the door to be closed. “Good eve, Lady Siusan.”

Sebastian was bursting with relief. He passed Siusan’s bag to his own driver. “Back to London, Bertrum.” Then, he opened the door and handed Siusan up inside his carriage.

Climbing in after her, Sebastian spread a blanket over them both.

Siusan’s expression was serious. Instantly, she hushed him with a finger across his lips. “Before you begin, I must tell you that I wrote a letter to Lord Aster advising him that you are not and could not be the father of his daughter’s child because she was not the woman whom you bedded during the gala. I was. I also confessed that I took advantage of your inebriation to conceal my own
identity, and that you should be held entirely blameless in this matter.”

Sebastian kissed her finger. “Are you through?”

“Nay,
do you not understand? In order to maintain your honor now, you must sever your connections with me. Forever.”