The Seduction of Sebastian St. James (17 page)

As the door shut quietly behind her, he let out the breath he had no idea he’d been holding. Unfortunately a good night was to be impossible, since his mind was already working on all of the activities one could do in the dark. How in the devil was he supposed to sleep with his body still painfully aware that a beautiful woman had just been in his bedroom? Lucky for them the rooms were adjoining, so nobody would know. But what exactly had been her purpose in coming to his rooms so late? If it was to torture him, she did a splendid job, leaving only thoughts of her soft body pressed up against his in his all too vivid imagination.

He knew sleep would not come, so he dedicated the next few hours to exactly what he had come to the house party for. Not for Emma, but for a wife, to bring honor to his family, and finally redemption to himself.

Chapter Seventeen

Emma’s heart threatened to beat straight out of her chest as her feet calmly took her back to her rooms. The last time she had felt this alive, she had been dancing. The memory seemed less painful than before. Maybe taking a chance with Sebastian was what she needed. A fresh start.

It would be possible if Rawlings weren’t so closely involved.

She had made the choice to visit Sebastian’s rooms out of sheer determination. Once she had been excused to her rooms, she sat for at least a half hour contemplating how she was to seduce Sebastian without anyone finding out, especially the object of her seduction. The thing was, she had no idea how to go about it. All she had been promised was this one week, and then, he would be married and the ruse could not, no, would not continue.

Desperation made her enter his room.

Passion made her strong, and determination made her immovable in her decision to experience the joy of being with someone as good as the duke just once in her life.

Naturally, she would have to conduct her decision without the watchful eyes of the gentry pouring into Rawlings’ estate over the next day. Surely it was safe for her to visit Sebastian at night, to talk with him. It was not lost on her how tightly wound she had made him. More than once the man shifted in his seat and over-indulged with the wine.

They affected one another. Yes, it was unfair they could not be together, that her scandal would keep them apart.

But for the week, he was hers.

As she lay her head down on her pillow, she smiled, a real smile, for the first time in years. Dreaming of all the ways she would seduce Sebastian St. James, refusing to remember that after the seduction came loss, and after the loss, a life forever watching the Duke of Tempest being seduced by his wife.

****

Emma awoke the next day refreshed. The men were to go on a hunt while the women had a casual ride and picnic. She donned her smartest looking riding habit. Dark green outlined with heavy black velvet fit her perfectly, albeit considerably tighter than she remembered it. The desired effect would be reached. Although low, it also showed off the generous curve of her hips, something that would peak Sebastian’s interest, she hoped.

As she made her way outside to the stables, Sebastian was waiting for her. A hungry look passed over his face. Almost as soon as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by the usual smile and twinkle in his eyes.

“Ah, my dear, I’ve decided on a mount for you.”

“Have you?” Skeptical, she looked at the horse he held. The midnight black Arabian stomped his hoof and snorted.

“This is Boxer.”

“Does he live up to his name, your grace?”

Sebastian handed her the reigns. “A more talented female rider I’ve never laid eyes on. I’ll let you be the one to make that decision, my lady.” Sebastian bowed over her hand and walked to his own horse. He paused slightly and turned to add, “And, Emma, no racing.”

“Ah, I see you’ve been busy giving away my best horses this morning.” Lord Rawlings trotted up on his own horse, smug grin still in place.

Emma wanted nothing more than to slap it off his face. Given the liberties he had already taken with her, it seemed a natural response for any woman.

“Lord Rawlings.” She curtsied then, without any help, managed to mount her horse and take off in a full gallop.

Emma laughed as the breeze whipped across her face, leaving her dizzy with exhilaration.

Out of nowhere a horse appeared on her left, Lord Rawlings riding atop it. Her first response was to ignore him and push harder, but the fact that he was keeping up with her was impressive. She slowed to a trot. Boxer neighed and kicked before finally pulling to a stop.

“You followed me.” Emma led her horse to a nearby stream.

Rawlings let out a laugh. The same laugh she remembered him using so long ago when they were friends.

“Yes, I thought it would be good to humble you a bit. Seems you’ve pulled that stunt before with the duke?”

Emma bit her lip, refusing to answer, even though a slow smile spread across her face. “In the middle of Hyde Park, to be exact.”

“And did he or did he not give you a sit down about the rules and regulations befitting a lady of your station?” Rawlings joked.

“He did.”

“Ah, he should let you be wild, Emma.”

Rawlings seemed to be purposefully making a point by using her first name. It was not at all proper.

Ignoring his presence behind her, she dismounted and set forth on the impossible task of finding a smooth stone to skip in the river.

“Do you remember when we used to go hunting through the wood over yonder?” Rawlings was standing next to her, looking toward her father’s land.

“Yes.”

“You hated being told to stay behind, always wanting to play with the boys, to race, to hunt…I wonder where that Emma has gone off to? I fervently hope one of these days she will return and start taking chances again.”

Rawlings picked up a smooth stone and threw it in her direction. “My lady,” he said, bowing. Then he mounted his horse and took off in a gallop, leaving Emma more confused than before.

Was he merely being polite or trying to conjure up images of her jaded past in order to gain her allegiance?

It was most likely a question that would not be answered by skipping stones.

Chapter Eighteen

Sebastian waited in vain for an hour, hoping to at least catch a glimpse of Emma returning from her dangerous gallop. In that time he came to the decision to finally do right by her and attempt to choose a suitor from among the arriving guests, someone who would be good enough.

Each one seemed to have something wrong with him.

Lord Rayne had a gambling problem.

Viscount Richards was missing several of his teeth.

And each of Lord Ambry’s wives had somehow met their demise while married to him.

It seemed his only hope was the last two men to join. Both were good friends of Rawlings and entirely out of the question, if Sebastian had anything to do with it. But they were the only two left, so he waited patiently for the last two guests to arrive all the while wondering if Rawlings had caught up to Emma in the woods.

Hope came in a tall figure clad with blond hair and brown eyes. Sebastian turned his head in disgust. He was a mere child!

“Lord Smythe, delighted to see you!” Belverd took the man’s hand within his own, shaking it wildly before patting him on the back and turning him toward a curious Sebastian.

“Ah, the Duke of Tempest,” Smythe said.

Stating the obvious was a trifle irritating to someone of Sebastian’s stature. He momentarily thought about punching the poor fellow on principle alone but realized the only reason would be to knock out his remaining good teeth rendering him too unfit for Emma.

Anything was better than the obvious.

Lord Smythe was the only likely candidate. The feeling didn’t settle well with Sebastian one bit, his fingers itched inside his gloves.

“A pleasure,” Sebastian finally said.

Smythe seemed to be amused. “Tell me, good man, is it the spinning of tales that you will be marrying soon? I would be delighted to meet the future duchess’s acquaintance?”

“Right then,” Sebastian said. “I’m terribly sorry, but I believe she’s gone out for a ride, not sure when she’ll be returning.”

“Ah well, later then.” Smythe smiled gaily and accepted a sniffer of brandy from Belverd.

The room fell into an awkward silence that Sebastian lacked the desire to fill. After all, it would benefit him to see how Smythe reacted in such situations. It was impossible for Sebastian to wrap his head around the idea that Emma would soon be married to someone else. Nobody seemed good enough, not even he.

Stunning that he would think of her in that way. Slowly, he took another drink. Did he value her happiness above his own? When had she turned from something akin to horseflesh into a woman he wanted nothing more than to make happy?

Unfortunately, the object of his affection chose that moment to enter the room. All traces of her ride gone, now dressed in a simple white walking gown and pink pelisse. She looked delectable.

“Your grace.” She walked in and stood next to him, taking her place on his arm. His arm, not Smythe’s, or any other man’s for that matter. It was where she belonged, where he finally realized he wanted her.

“How was your ride, Emma?” he asked calmly.

“I only wish you would have joined me, your grace. We have much to discuss with our upcoming nuptials, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Agreed,” he said, noticing a flicker of amusement in her eyes.

“Shall we take a walk in the gardens?” he asked, trying to keep the excitement and rush of arousal out of his voice.

“We shall. If you’ll just excuse us, gentlemen.” She curtsied and looked to Sebastian to lead them out of the room. He wanted nothing more than to growl at Smythe as his eyes greedily scanned the expanse of Emma’s chest. A possessiveness he’d never experienced before threatened to explode.

Containing his emotions behind a cool mask of indifference, he led Emma out of the room and prayed to God she wouldn’t tempt him beyond what he could handle.

Chapter Nineteen

Sebastian stole several glances at Emma as they walked arm in arm to the garden on the far side of the estate.

Just as he was about to say something, Emma interjected.

“I do believe I’ve found someone for you, Sebastian.”

“As in, a person who was once lost but now found?” He played dumb, while his chest heaved with each step.

“No.” She stopped and flashed him a brilliant grin. “A woman I think you will take an instant liking to. I was introduced to her on the way in.”

“You were?” His voice was hoarse.

“Oh yes, and she was delightful! And beautiful. I do believe her reputation is outstanding. It would be a brilliant match.”

“Well, then—”

“You should ask her to dance tonight after dinner. I’ve heard there will be music and games.”

Just what sort of ploy was Emma playing? Last night she seemed to be seducing him. This morning she was throwing him at the first available woman she met.

“Right,” he answered. “So it is settled then?”

She smiled warmly. “I wanted to make sure I stayed true to my promise to help you. You did want my help?”

Loaded question.

“Yes. Of course.”

Emma shrugged and walked by him, taking a seat on a nearby bench. Sebastian, for the life of him, couldn’t figure out what to do. Her assumptions were completely accurate, yet it frustrated him that she was so eager to throw him into someone else’s arms. And it did sting his pride a bit to think she had no emotional reaction whatsoever to him being married to someone else.

Especially since less than ten minutes ago he was lamenting the fact that she would have to marry someone like Smythe.

“I’ve likewise found someone for you, Emma,” he said, trying to steer the conversation to see if he found opposition where Emma was concerned.

“Have you?” Emma looked surprised and, dare he hope, a tad pale.

He ran with it. “Of course. You’ll be delighted. Maybe we’ll do introductions tonight when we are all together. In fact, it was Mr. Smythe, the man you just saw inside.”

“Perfect.” Emma looked anything but pleased.

“Right.” Sebastian smiled. “Shall we?” He offered his arm and stifled a chuckle. Maybe the girl was just as affected.

****

Talk about a plan backfiring
, thought Emma as Sebastian led her back into the house. If anything, it just made her feel all the more nervous.

Her only purpose was to gauge his reaction, to see if he would be excited about her matchmaking or upset. Instead he had turned the tables on her, making her more uncertain of his feelings. It would be easier if the man would at least show some sort of emotion. But the minute she saw anything close to attraction, he would turn away and change the subject. Her only hope was making him uncomfortable, being spontaneous, which wasn’t hard for a girl like her.