The Seduction of Sebastian St. James (16 page)

“What exactly is between us?” Sebastian swept into the room and bowed before the ladies. “I do hope you were saying good things, Miss Gates.”

Emma lifted her eyebrow as she took a tentative sip of the sherry in her hand. “Of course.”

Sebastian’s eyes never left her face as he announced, “I hope you don’t mind, ladies, but I was hoping to speak to my betrothed for a moment tonight concerning some minor details of our upcoming nuptials. I’m sure you ladies understand.”

Emma thought she heard a few muffled giggles, but couldn’t be sure since her eyes were fully locked on the temptation Sebastian St. James, Duke of Tempest, brought to her.

Dressed in a tight-fitting dinner jacket, his broad shoulders seemed almost too firm to be real. She was half-tempted to run her hands along the smooth fabric. Hadn’t she earlier today decided to enjoy being with Sebastian as long as it lasted? Or had time run out? Just how much had he overheard?

Before she knew it, Emma was being escorted outside onto one of the south facing balconies. Sebastian had no way of knowing it, but this balcony overlooked the Gates’ estate, and if one looked hard enough, it was possible to see the grounds of her parents’ country house as well as their stables.

A familiar longing fell over Emma as her mind went back to easier days. The time before the incident had been good. Her family had adored her and she was to have her first season, but not have to participate in the marriage fiasco it presented. After all, she already had her match.

And what a match Rawlings had been. If looks were to be the deciding factor, then he had those in spades. But he lacked heart, and the years at University had not been good to him. Each time he had returned to her he’d appeared haggard, tired, and debauched. Oh he had still been tall, dark, and handsome. With piercing blue eyes and brown hair, his looks favored Lord Renwick. One could believe them to be brothers. Yet, over time, Lord Renwick had battled his demons and won, while Rawlings was still entrenched in the fight, or had decided to give up. The permanent scowl or smug grin on his face told everyone within his vicinity that he was much too full of himself to be of any use to anyone. The boyish charm was gone. In its place stood a man who had seen too much in the world and come out the other end damaged, just like her.

Maybe Rawlings was interested. Maybe he viewed himself on the same level as Emma. He was her last everything. Her last dance, her last real chance at marriage and the last person who had fully let her down in life. Even if he was interested, he would be the least appropriate man in the country with whom she would align herself. As much as he tried to play her the fool, too much history had gone on between them. She only hoped Sebastian wasn’t bringing her out here for a history lesson, but wanted to spend time with her.

****

Emma appeared a million miles away. Her face stone as she gazed across the countryside. Sebastian didn’t want to interrupt whatever thoughts were plaguing her, and he would be of no help if he asked her to share.

His original intent had been to find out just how well she knew Rawlings. But looking at her face now, he realized it wasn’t for him to ask, it was for her to share, when she was ready. And this was not the time.

Head down, she let out a sigh then faced him.

“You wanted to speak with me, Sebastian?”

Emma’s eyes were void of emotion. If he didn’t know her, he would think she was merely bored, but he knew. It was pain that filled those normally vibrant eyes, and for some reason, he felt he was behind that aching. He watched with concern as she swallowed and, hands shaking, pushed an escaped piece of hair away from her face. Crossing her arms, she gave him the impression she was trying to hug herself, or protect herself from some sort of emotional turmoil.

Music from the salon drifted out onto the terrace. Someone must have decided dancing would make the party livelier.

“Dance with me,” he said, offering his hand.

Sebastian didn’t think it possible, but Emma’s face seemed to pale even more in the moonlight. She looked toward the doorway then back at him.

“I don’t dance.”

“You did before,” he said skeptically.

“Not really.” Emma turned away from him. “It was impulsive of me to try to dance with you at the first ball we attended together. Forgive me. Now I must take my leave.”

“Emma…” Sebastian tried to stop her, but Emma was already out the door. He knew whatever he had said had rubbed her the wrong way. Confused, he stayed out on the balcony. One minute the girl was ready to take any challenge he set before her, the next she seemed as frightened as a tiny mouse. Her emotions alone were enough to drive any man to drink.

Cursing himself for, yet again, making her uncomfortable and for avoiding the topic of Rawlings, he let himself back in the room, walking slowly to the study where the rest of the men were most likely meeting.

His rotten luck continued as he noticed the only man still sitting by the fire was Rawlings himself. Taking a cheroot from the butler, he lifted his coat tails and sat on the furthest seat away from his sworn enemy.

“Tempest,” Rawlings ground out.

Why did it always have to be so tense? Granted, he despised the man, but couldn't they at least be civil?

“Rawlings, has your night been agreeable?”

The only response given him was a grunt from Rawlings and a motion for another brandy, which Sebastian was immediately jealous of considering he himself felt the need to inebriate his body with spirits after his terse conversation with Emma.

“She was mine once,” Rawlings began.

Devil take him, this was not going well.

“Mine,” Rawlings said.

Sebastian felt the sudden urge to pull out his pistols. Unfortunately he wasn’t carrying any, so he was left with the uncomfortable task of listening to Rawlings, drunk as he was, lament over the loss of some chit.

“Miss Emma Gates, the prettiest girl in the country,” Rawlings continued. “You knew we were one betrothed, did you not?”

The smirk on Rawlings’ face was enough to make Sebastian want to hang him. The man should learn his place.

“Oh, don’t get your feathers all in a ruffle, Tempest. I’m merely making polite conversation. Wouldn’t a healthy competition be good for you, my dear fellow?” He smiled and lifted his cup in a toast. “We knew each other well. And before you get that deuced awful scowl on your face, you should know I don’t mean in the Christian way. We were both too young for that, not that it mattered later on. I can’t even imagine why I am telling you this.”

“Too many spirits?” Sebastian offered.

Rawlings ignored him. “Can’t say that it matters though, she’s ruined now. Can’t believe you even offered for her, what with her reputation. It’s only a matter of time before the
ton
gets wind of her many sins. Did I say many? I mean one, but it’s not for you to know. Only myself.” Rawlings voice continued to mumble until a loud snore came out.

Sebastian waited in anticipation. What in the blazes was this man talking about? What did Rawlings know that Sebastian didn’t? Unsettled, Sebastian waited for Rawlings to say more. Odd that he would hint at any sort of scandal with Emma. But Rawlings was also drunk. If Emma had any black marks attached to her name, surely Nicholas would have said something. His friend knew how important his reputation was to him. He wouldn’t jeopardize that for someone who was merely related to him by marriage.

Just as he was getting ready to kick Rawlings in the shin and demand an explanation, a second snore came and Rawlings’ glass fell to the floor. What information Rawlings was keeping from him would obviously not be revealed tonight. Not with Rawlings so deep in his cups and Emma as skittish as a church mouse. Reluctantly, Sebastian pushed off the plush chair and took the stairs to his room.

Pure torture engulfed him as he realized just how close Emma’s lush body was to his own. One door was all that separated them. One tiny, flimsy piece of wood and he could see her. What would she be wearing? Would she be sleeping peacefully? Would she be—

Sebastian yelled a string of curses as he stepped into his fire lit room. Emma was sitting in the chair next to the fireplace, twirling her long locks in her fingers. Of all the scandals, this had to be the worst.

“What in the blazes are you doing here?” Unfortunately Sebastian’s body was already aroused after thinking of Emma in her nightgown. Now that he saw her in the flesh, he was ready to throw caution to the wind and take her in the quickest way possible.

“Emma?” he asked again, trying to soothe his arousal.

The minx motioned for him to sit and took a drink of wine she had apparently brought to his room. Lovely, more spirits to dampen his focus.

Emma hadn’t moved from her seat. The lines of her beautiful face were illuminated by the fireplace. Never had there been a better setting for seduction.

On cue, her robe fell off her shoulder, revealing a creamy white expanse of skin just begging to be touched.

Sebastian cursed and looked away. “Emma, by your presence in my room I can only deduce you want to speak with me about something that’s on your mind.” Strain was evident as he spoke every word. It was a chore to act normal when the room was ripe for seduction.

Surely he would be sainted if he survived this.

He opened his eyes just in time to see Emma lick her lips and sigh.

Wine. Where was the wine?

Slowly, methodically, he poured himself a glass then walked to where Emma sat and joined her in the across facing chair. He lifted the red liquid to his lips, closing his eyes as the wine trickled down his throat. Unfortunately it wasn’t high enough in its alcohol content to numb the raging lust he was feeling.

Emma turned to him. “You were going to ask me something tonight.”

“Was I?”

Emma gave a weak smile. “You’re being kind by avoiding the subject, but I’m ready to share some of what has been plaguing me.”

“Emma.” Sebastian set his glass down and leaned in. “It is none of my business. If it pains you, I only wish to know so I can help alleviate the hurt and share the burden. But do not tell me if it will make everything worse for you. I do not desire to be another reason for your pain.”

Splendid speech for only having used half his head. The other half was too busy thinking ungodly things.

Turning her face once more to the fire, she closed her eyes. Had he never seen true beauty before? The shots of red in her hair seemed to glow. It was nothing more than a terrible tease to see only part of her body exposed. It was actually worse than her being unclothed, because at least then he wouldn’t be imagining what the rest of her looked like. But now, his eyes greedily scanned the expanse of skin below her neck. The illusion of her body made him believe in its supple softness.

“Then it’s settled, isn’t it?” Emma pushed away from the chair and approached him.

His throat went dry as his eyes greedily took in her illuminated form. “What’s that?” he inquired, taking another long gulp of wine then setting the goblet on the table next to him. Sebastian folded his hands and leaned forward as she stopped right in front of him.

Waves of heat brought on by her exposure to the hot fire billowed toward him in a combined scent of jasmine and burning wood. Clenching his teeth, he managed a grin.

“Both of us are too stubborn to back down. I can see by the look in your eyes you want to help, but Sebastian, my past with Rawlings is…complicated, to say the least. It wouldn’t bode well for you to get involved. You do have your reputation to think about.”

“My reputation?” he repeated. “Your past has nothing to do with my reputation, and even if it did, my dear girl, you forget, this is all a ruse.” Even as he said it, his body screamed in protest. He wanted Emma, every part of her. It seemed the only person who refused to believe the lie was the one who had created it in the first place.

Emma tilted her head to the side. “A ruse.”

“Exactly.”

“So, my sly fox, you aren’t the least bit interested in what I have to offer?”

“Offer,” Sebastian stuttered then adjusted his cravat. “You are a little minx, aren’t you? What game are you playing at?” Not that he was, by any means, complaining. Her shoulder was still exposed to fresh air giving him the intense desire to reach out and stroke the white skin.

“My services, of course.”

Sebastian lost all ability to speak.

Emma obviously had not. Leaning down, she brushed a kiss across his cheek. A low moan escaped him, embarrassing him to the tips of his ears. What duke allowed himself to be seduced by a mere peck on the cheek?

This one.

Emma bit her deliciously ripe lower lip and winked. “You did ask that I help you pick out a suitable bride, did you not?”

Blast, blast, blast!

He cleared his throat. “Of course, so those would be…the services you are, ahem, referring to, naturally.”

Spoken with the grace of Byron himself.

Disgusted, Sebastian met Emma’s twinkling eyes one last time.

Her face was merely a breath away from his. Licking her lips, she replied, “Your grace, you’ll just have to find out for yourself.” Slowly, she curtsied and bid him goodnight.