The Seduction of Sebastian St. James (18 page)

Maybe Rawlings had been correct in his assumption. Granted, his idea of her was somewhat tainted. She did used to be wild, couldn’t have cared less what people thought about her. And at this point in her life, she still didn’t mind if others thought her reckless. The only thing she cared about was Sebastian and being able to be with him just once before she said goodbye forever.

Emma was a pile of nerves by the time dinner was finished. Sebastian had stayed true to his promise of introducing her to Lord Smythe, whom she not only found extremely boring but awkward in conversation. Admittedly, he was attractive, but there was no spark, she didn’t swoon, nor did her knees feel week like they did when she was in the presence of Sebastian.

The guests were led into one of the larger rooms to play parlor games. Emma was never one to appreciate such activities , especially when the whole idea behind said games was to engage in gossip—the best gossip most likely being about her.

Rawlings entered the room and gave Emma a brief nod before walking over to Belverd. Emma still couldn’t figure out if the man was honest in his intentions toward her. Did he truly desire for her to be wild and free, or was his main purpose to skew her mind into thinking that and then expose her secrets? Rawlings had never possessed a mean bone in his body. But desperation made people do things that were out of character, and something in his eyes gave hesitation to Emma. He was desperate. She just didn’t know the reasons behind it.

Needing an escape, her eyes darted around the room until they settled on Lady Kentsworth, who was hanging on to Sebastian’s arm tighter than Emma would have liked. Steeling herself for what she had to do, she slowly walked over to where Lady Kentsworth stood with her mother and reluctantly introduced them. Was it blasphemous to pray that he wouldn’t see her for the attractive and kind woman she was? Emma hoped not, because that was exactly what she was doing. She would have gotten to her knees had she not made a scene over the whole ordeal.

Lady Kentsworth turned to face them all dimples and smiles, making Emma curse herself once more for her brilliant plan. What had she hoped to accomplish? Make him jealous, yes, but literally push him into the arms of his future bride? Not likely.

“May I introduce Lady Kentsworth,” Emma said, when in her mind she was contemplating ways she could trip the poor dear without anyone pointing a finger in her direction.

To Sebastian’s credit, her merely bowed over her kid gloves and offered a brief smile. Like any woman would, Emma stared at Sebastian, trying to read what his expression meant. Was he amused? Attracted?

“Emma,” he said.

“Yes?” She jumped back, not realizing her eyes had been trained on his lips for quite some time.

Lovely.

“We’re to be partners.” His eyebrow lifted, making him appear mischievous and more attractive.

Curse those wretched eyebrows, and dimples, and…

“Emma?”

“Hmm?”

“We’re to go on a scavenger hunt.”

“Right,” she said, cemented in place.

“The women are supposed to grab the pieces of paper with the directions. Once you find the first hidden area, you are allowed to open the second piece.”

Emma flashed him a smile then went and gathered the pieces, nearly falling on her face in the process as her dress somehow managed to gather under her foot.

“All right?” Sebastian asked, grabbing at her elbow. “You don’t seem like yourself, and you’re flushed. You’re not getting ill, are you?”

No, just overheated by your touch, thank you.

“It is a bit warm in here. The scavenger hunt is to take place outside, correct?”

Sebastian nodded his head. “In the dark. It’s Rawlings’ idea of a romantic escapade, although I’m not sure I quite agree with him. I bet by the end of the game we’ll have at least three women with twisted ankles.”

Just then Rawlings cleared his throat. “I understand it is a trifle dark outside, so the scavenger hunt will be postponed. But I do have a delightful game to take its place. Gather round. We shall play blind man’s bluff!”

Squeals of delight and gasps were heard throughout the room. Emma kept quiet, but in all reality wanted to throw something at Rawlings’ head.

Blind man’s bluff was not a game for young innocents, and was surely not the best game for Emma, given her current state of mind.

With her luck, the minute Sebastian stepped in front of her, she would maul him and cause every female in the room to swoon, or worse, have an apoplexy.

One by one, the ladies approached Rawlings and wrote out their names as well as their partners across the little pieces of paper before returning to their seats.

Emma hoped he wouldn’t notice her nervousness as she left Sebastian’s side to gain participation. The last thing she wanted was for Rawlings to make a scene or to finally decide that it was in his best interest to share Emma’s secret with the world.

Finally reaching Rawlings, she stretched out her hand waiting for him to drop the tiny pieces of paper into it. His fingers barely touched the palm of her hand, but the light caress was purposeful, making her wonder yet again about his intentions.

“I’m glad you’ve decided to play, Emma.”

His eyes pierced hers. A small shiver ran down her spine. She hadn’t remembered him being so…primitive. One thing was for sure, the same boy she had grown up with and chased through the apple orchards was now a grown man.

A man she realized she would never be able to trust.

“Kindly write down you and your partner’s names before we begin.” Rawlings grinned as she scribbled the names and threw the papers back into the hat.

“What did he want?” Sebastian said angrily when she reached him. “Did he say something to you? You looked uncomfortable. Emma if he was forward with you I’ll—”

“He was merely giving instructions.” Emma cut off Sebastian’s worry but inwardly smiled at his obvious display of jealousy.

Rawlings went to the center of the room and cleared his throat. “I shall pull a name out of the hat. The first participant will sit in the chair here and be blindfolded, one by one you must march in front of he or she, giving the blind man or woman adequate time to feel and make a guess, are we all clear?”

Obnoxious giggles answered him, making Emma groan. Sebastian tapped her lightly on the side and shook his head in amusement.

“Miss Emma Gates,” Rawlings drawled from the center of the room. “Your name has been chosen. Please take your seat.”

Emma’s teeth clenched. With the stress she was under during this house party, it wouldn’t surprise her if she was grinding those same teeth every single night. How could a woman stand being so close to Sebastian at night and manage to sleep?

It was near impossible.

Emma took her seat and cast a nervous glance at Sebastian. His reassuring wink set her heart a flutter all over again.

Goodness gracious, she wasn’t some green girl on her first carriage ride. Why did it feel that way every time he looked at her?

Rawlings stood in front of her. “Ready?”

She nodded and froze as she felt his long warm fingers wrap around her head, tying the blindfold in place. And then his hot breath was on her ear.

“Remember, Emma. No peeking.”

Would it be terribly rude to kick him in the shin?

Biting back a retort, she merely said, “Of course.”

And waited.

Muffled voices and shoes scraping the floor were the only hints she was given that the men had been chosen, for wasn’t that how these games worked? If a woman was sitting in the chair, she had to touch a man and vice versa.

Scandalous, to say the least.

“You may begin,” came Rawlings’ voice.

Emma reached out and felt a hand, it was limp and not at all the masculine hand she expected it to be. There was no familiarity in the touch. It had to be someone she was not familiar with, unfortunately the only man she could think of was Lord Smythe, so she guessed it.

“Blast! How’d you know?” Lord Smythe commented in front of her.

“You have a delightful handshake. It was quite memorable for me,” Emma lied, hoping the warmth on her face wasn’t a telling blush to her fib.

“Well done!” Smythe cheered.

Another hand was given to her. It was warm, it felt—beautiful. Though she couldn’t figure out why or how a man’s hand could feel beautiful, it just did.

Its warmth reached into her soul, nearly pulling her heart out with it, and all this by a single touch.

They were hands that had possessively covered hers before.

“The Duke of Tempest,” she announced.

“Correct,” Sebastian said, and then his lips kissed her hand. The moment was fleeting, but Emma felt she would swoon straight off her chair at any minute.

And then before she had time to analyze the feel of Sebastian’s lips on her skin, another hand was thrust into hers.

It too was warm, inviting…and large.

Fear spread like a disease through her body, threatening to choke her. Why did these hands feel so familiar? And why was such a terrible feeling associated with the innocent touch of another person?

In the end, fear won out. She guessed Lord Rawlings in order to push the game along.

“Oh, how delightful!” someone squealed. “She guessed all three correct!”

Emma’s stomach sank to her knees.

Chapter Twenty

Sebastian briefly contemplated slamming his head against the mantel on the fireplace. Yes, surely that would rid him of the rage he currently felt at Emma’s familiarity with Rawlings hands. Logic told him that she had also recognized Smythe’s hands, but his jealousy blinded him to that fact.

The blighter.

And then the man’d had the audacity to look him in the eye and smirk all the while beautiful Emma held his hand.

He knew what he wanted to do with Rawlings’ dirty hands. It involved chopping them into little bits and feeding them to the birds outside.

Fighting to keep himself in check, he gave a curt nod to Rawlings as the blindfold was removed from Emma and placed on the next participant.

At the moment, he should be feeling pride that she had recognized him so quickly, but it was snuffed out the minute her lovely voice said Rawlings’ name.

Just what was their history and why was Emma being so secretive about it? Rawlings, drunk sod that he was, hadn’t been able to shed any light on the situation either.

Which made Sebastian curious.

He decided to send a letter to Renwick House asking about the relationship between the two. If anyone knew of her past it would be Sara, and the more he thought about Rawlings’ little confession, the more he suspected Nicholas had no idea of Emma’s past any more than he did.

They were only a day’s ride out of London, surely he would hear back from Sara by the ending of the house party.

At least the worse was over. Emma’s turn was finished. They merely needed to survive the dancing, which would surely follow into the evening, and then Sebastian could adequately devise a plan to steal young Emma’s heart, all the while convincing his grandmother that a woman who is figuratively on the shelf would make the perfect duchess.

Sebastian smiled to himself. He wasn’t entirely sure how in the span of a few days he had decided to try to win over Emma. Maybe it was Rawlings’ attitude toward her that finally pushed him over the edge, or maybe it was the way she knew his touch, or that he couldn’t handle watching any other man lay a finger on her without wanting to commit some sort of crime.

The way he figured it, if he didn’t marry her, she would be someone else’s. And in his heart, his mind, he wanted her to belong to him and only him. Why did it matter if she was a bit too outspoken and adventuresome? She was a beautiful woman, full of life.

Yes, he would admit she had a wild streak, but no scandal he knew of attached itself to her name. All in all, she would be perfect, somewhat amiable, and he couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

If all went well, by the end of the house party he would be announcing their wedding date, knowing full well it was real.

****

The dancing started soon after the game ended. Emma hadn’t said much since her return from her room, but something did seem to be bothering her. Sebastian tried witty banter and even offered to throw food at guests. That at least earned him a smile, but something was definitely wrong.

“May I have this dance?” Rawlings appeared out of nowhere like most rakes and degenerates and grabbed Emma’s hand before Sebastian could protest.

“I, uh…” Emma looked to him for help.

Just as he was getting ready to tell Rawlings exactly where he could go, the man spoke again.

“Miss Gates, we have danced before, have we not? Do you not recall the time in your father’s study when I taught you the quadrille?”

Sebastian clenched his fists as he fought the urge to pummel the man he used to call friend.

“Yes.” Emma’s eyes suddenly lit with fire as she accepted the man’s hand and boldly stepped onto the dance floor, never once looking back at Sebastian or anyone else.