The Wedding Season (4 page)

The only thing that made the experience bearable was Lord Benedict’s attentiveness. He seemed to hang on her every word. He laughed at her feeble efforts to lighten the atmosphere with a jest. He continually offered her dainty cakes and pastries. Surely Hermione could not be correct
in supposing the viscount had taken a fancy to her? Hard as Rebecca strove to dismiss such an unlikely but appealing notion, Lord Benedict’s gallantry made it difficult to deny the possibility.

At last his lordship rose and bowed to his aunt. “Thank you for the fine tea, but if I swallow another crumb, I fear I may explode. Would you ladies care to take a stroll around our gardens? They are quite fine, though I can take no credit for them. That is one area in which my neglect has served a useful purpose. I reckon good gardeners are like good generals. They achieve their best results when given plenty of supplies and a minimum of interference.”

The quip and his invitation broke the brittle tension among their small party.

“A splendid idea!” Claude Stanhope leaped to his feet and held out his hand to his fiancée. “Come, Hermione, you must see the view from the Fountain Garden.”

“I should like that very much.” Hermione seemed to shake off the bemusement that had held her mute. “The fresh air will do me good.”

As the young couple hurried away, Rebecca rose to follow at a discreet distance, as she had so often during their brief courtship. Only this time, rather than tagging along on her own as a grudgingly tolerated chaperone, she was escorted by Lord Benedict. The viscount diverted her with stories about Stanhope Court and his ancestors whose portraits thronged its walls.

Once outside, Rebecca was immediately enchanted with the gardens, beginning with the one behind the house. It nestled between the east and west wings of Stanhope Court like a beloved child cradled in the arms of a caring parent. The colors of the flowers stood out in vivid contrast against the background of greenery.

Next Lord Benedict led her down a brickwork path that wound through a succession of vine-covered trellises to a smaller terrace garden cut into the side of the hill. Surrounded by box hedge walls, it had the air of a secret room decorated in shades of pink and gold. Rebecca wished she could linger in it, but since Hermione and Mr. Stanhope had already moved on, they followed.

When she entered the final garden, Rebecca let out a gasp of wonder mingled with a sigh of delight. This tiny hillside bower was not planted with bright-colored flowers to draw the eye. Instead it was edged with greenery and contained only a few pale but fragrant blossoms. At its heart, a small stone fountain splashed and tinkled a soothing liquid melody. The focus of this garden was not upon itself, but outward at the breathtaking view of the Vale of Avoncross.

“How lovely!” cried Hermione. “I could stand here all day and never grow tired of such a view.”

As Hermione extolled the panorama before them, Rebecca could not help wishing her young friend would now hold her tongue for a few minutes. This glorious prospect deserved to be savored, with only the gentle babble of the fountain and the subtle fragrance of flowers to enhance the experience.

Despite Hermione’s vow that she could stand and stare all day, it was not long before her interest waned and she and Mr. Stanhope wandered back up the path. Or perhaps she wanted to escape the brooding presence of Lord Benedict.

Rebecca’s reaction was quite the opposite. She welcomed the opportunity to enjoy such a rich feast for the senses in his company.

Eventually, however, duty won out over inclination. “I suppose we ought to rejoin the others.”

“In a moment.” The viscount turned toward her with a
gaze as blue and breathtaking as the wide Cotswold sky. “First I have something particular to ask you.”

Something particular?
That usually implied a delicate matter, often romantic in nature. Surely Lord Benedict could not intend to declare some feelings for her…could he? After all, they’d just met the other day and theirs would be a far more unequal match than his brother’s, to which he objected so strongly.

Though Rebecca reminded herself of those things, her heart began to beat far too fast, and her voice caught in her tightened throat when she replied, “By all means, your lordship. I am at your service.”

She deliberately tried to emphasize with her words the vast gulf between her position and his.

But the viscount refused to take heed. “I do not mean to issue orders or condescend to you, Miss Beaton. I respect you too much for that. In many important ways, I believe we are very much equal. Our great concern for those we care about, for instance.”

As Lord Benedict spoke, his deep voice grew softer and mellower in timbre. It might have coaxed a sigh from Rebecca, if she had not been on her guard to avoid any such slip.

“Since I wish to address you as an equal in that regard,” he continued, “please feel free to call me by my given name—Sebastian.”

His suggestion eroded Rebecca’s resolve to keep her hopes in check. She wasn’t certain she could bring herself to speak his first name aloud, but from that moment, she would always think of him as Sebastian.

“Would it be too great a liberty for me to call you Rebecca…in private at least?” His penetrating gaze softened until it seemed to caress her face. “It is a fine name—so
proud and strong, yet lovely too. It seems a shame not to use it.”

To hear her name on his lips provoked an unsettling mixture of pleasure and trepidation. No one had called her anything but Miss Beaton in such a long time it was almost as if they were two different people. “Miss Beaton” would never consent to such familiarity of address from a man she barely knew. But “Rebecca” felt quite well acquainted with Sebastian. Though not as well as she would have liked.

“You may call me what you wish.” She resisted the urge to bow her head and cast a glance upward at Sebastian through her lashes. She had seen giddy girls behave that way around their admirers when she’d accompanied Hermione to the Assembly Rooms in Avoncross. She was far too old to flirt, even if she’d had the temperament for it. “Was that all you wanted to ask me?”

Sebastian hesitated a moment as if he’d been so lost in contemplation of her that he’d forgotten what he meant to say. “Yes…er…no! It was another matter entirely.”

He inhaled a deep breath, then plunged ahead. “Though we have known each other a very short time, my dear Rebecca, I must tell you how much I have come to admire your sincerity and good sense.” He
was
making a romantic declaration! Forcing herself to keep breathing, Rebecca gave her leg a discreet pinch to wake her if she was dreaming.

“Y-you are too kind.” She still could not bring herself to call him by his Christian name. Perhaps when she gave him her answer…

Sebastian’s husky, rueful chuckle was even sweeter music to her ears than the gurgle of the fountain. “That is something else I have never been accused of before.”

Instinctively, she rose to his defense again. “Then your acquaintances must be blind to your true character.”

“Or perhaps,” he suggested, “I am a better man when you are around.”

What finer compliment could he possibly pay her? “It would make me very happy to think so.”

“Then let me return to my question…my request.”

“Of course.” The prospect of a stable future stretched before Rebecca, as inviting as the verdant Vale of Avoncross. Security of situation and affection was something she’d always craved. Now, just when she’d begun to despair of ever gaining it, her dream seemed poised to come true.

“I need you,” Sebastian murmured, “to become my ally.”

“Ally?” That was an unusual term for a wife. Though perhaps, given Sebastian’s preoccupation with military matters, it should not be too surprising.

“Precisely!” Sebastian made it sound as if the suggestion had come from her. “My ally in the effort to end my brother’s imprudent betrothal. I want you to use your influence to persuade Miss Leonard to break it off.”

Even as she chided herself for imagining he could ever want anything else from her, Rebecca felt as if Sebastian had pushed her over the edge of this serene terrace garden to hurtle down the steep cliff.

W
hat had come over Rebecca?

As his request hung in the air, unanswered, Sebastian tried to fathom the sudden change he sensed in her. A moment ago, she had seemed so amenable, as if she knew what he meant to ask before he uttered a word. Then an invisible door had slammed shut between them.

Had she expected him to say something different? Sebastian could not imagine what. He thought he had signaled his intentions quite clearly.

Rebecca stepped back and turned away from him, directing her gaze toward the pastoral beauty of the view. “You expect
me
to persuade Hermione to break her engagement to your brother?”

“I
hope
you will agree to assist me.” An undercurrent of aversion beneath her words made Sebastian reconsider his plan. At the moment, it was all he had. And after what he’d seen of Hermione Leonard, he was more determined than ever to prevent his brother from having to go through with this marriage. “You are too prudent not to see that a union between my brother and Miss Leonard is likely to fail.”

“Why?” Rebecca turned her striking hazel eyes upon him
again. “Because he is impetuous and inconstant and she does not meet your exacting standards? Those were the reasons you gave me when we first met. They did not sway me then nor do they now. I think more highly of Hermione and Mr. Stanhope than you appear to. I reckon he truly cares for her, and she for him. I believe they can be happy together.”

She did not raise her voice or pound on anything, as his brother would have done. Instead she simply stated her position with firm sincerity that Sebastian found much more difficult to dismiss. “Does that mean ‘no’?”

Rebecca nodded. “You have praised my sense and sincerity, but those mean nothing to me without loyalty. You also observed that we are alike in our concern for those we care about. How can you suppose I would do anything to cause Hermione a moment’s grief? She is very dear to me and I will not advise her against a course of action that I believe provides her best chance of continued happiness.”

Much as it disappointed Sebastian to see his promising plan go awry, he found himself equally troubled to lose the opportunity for continued contact with Rebecca.

“You must despise me for even suggesting such a thing.” He tried to make light of it, only to discover how much the prospect of her bad opinion troubled him. “At least now I can count you among those who regard me as arrogant, stubborn and ruthless.”

Sebastian turned sharply on his heel so she would not glimpse any look in his eyes that might betray his true feelings. “Since that is settled, perhaps we had better be getting back.”

He’d only taken two long strides when she called after him. “I do not despise you, Sebastian.”

Her words halted him in his tracks, especially the sweetness of hearing her melodious voice caress his name so
warmly. He did not dare to face her, however, until he regained control of the emotions she had stirred.

Behind him he heard the faint rustle of her footsteps in the grass and her voice drawing nearer. “You are convinced this marriage will make your brother unhappy. How can I not admire your loyalty and your willingness to take any action necessary to prevent him from making what you perceive as a mistake?”

He had thought his opinion of Rebecca Beaton could scarcely improve. Now it rose to quite alarming heights. “That is an unusually magnanimous attitude. When I first entered Parliament, I knew men capable of pursuing their policies vigorously in the House, yet remaining on terms of warmest respect with those who opposed them most forcefully. I fear such fair-minded tolerance is dying out.”

As he spoke, Sebastian slowly turned toward her, relieved by the assurance that he would not lose her esteem over their difference of opinion, no matter how great.

If he’d been fool enough to doubt her sincerity for even a moment, the look in her eyes would have convinced him she meant every word. “It is easier to tolerate opposition when we understand and respect the motive behind it. I know you care about your brother at least as much as I do Hermione. I only wish I could persuade you what a good wife I am certain she will make for Mr. Stanhope. If I could, I trust a fair-minded man like you would withdraw your objections and give their engagement your blessing.”

Her words gave Sebastian a promising idea.

“You may be right, though I cannot conceive how you would change my opinion so completely.” Smiling down at Rebecca, he offered her his arm and they began to climb the brickwork path back up the hillside. “Is it possible the reverse might also hold true? If I could persuade you of all
the reasons I believe a marriage between my brother and Miss Leonard will make them both miserable, would you then endeavor to advise her against the match?”

“Are you suggesting we wage a debate?” Glints of interest and amusement sparkled in her eyes. “The kind you have in Parliament?”

“I expect it will be far more engaging than the dull business of government.” As they passed beneath a trellis, Sebastian plucked a rosebud and offered it to her. “But I hope it will give us both an opportunity to consider aspects of the matter we may not have done previously. If we endeavor to keep open minds, perhaps we can reach a decision that will benefit all concerned.”

Rebecca lifted the pale pink blossom to her nose and inhaled its fragrance. Sebastian could not help notice how perfectly it matched the color of her lips.

“Is that how our system of government works?” she inquired with an arch of her eyebrow that conveyed astute insight.

“Sometimes,” Sebastian admitted with a chuckle. “Let us say, that’s how it is
intended
to work.”

“But would you not have an advantage over me?” She wagged the rosebud at him like a scolding finger. “After all, you are a veteran of many Parliamentary debates, against some of the greatest orators of our time. I am not even permitted to vote, let alone serve in government.”

Though she laughed at the absurdity of her suggestion, Sebastian did not find it so outrageous to imagine a woman of her integrity and judgment enacting laws for the good of the country.

“Depend upon it, my dear, you have a greater advantage than you may realize.” His growing regard for her, to begin with. His reluctance to contradict her. His desire to listen
to the sound of her voice. “I would fancy my chances better against any member of the House of Lords.”

They strolled through the intimate, hedge-walled garden. Since Claude and Miss Leonard had already moved on, they did not linger. Sebastian did not trust himself alone with Rebecca in such a place. Not in his present mood.

“Very well, then,” she agreed after silently mulling over his proposal…his
suggestion
for several minutes. “I fear you are only flattering me to win my cooperation, but I believe this represents my best opportunity to help Hermione. Besides, I owe it to her to consider whether there is a possibility this marriage might not be in her best interest after all.”

“What about
your
interests? Have you never given them any thought?” During his career in Parliament, Sebastian had learned the surest means to enlist support from anyone was to appeal to their self-interest.

Rebecca shook her head. “I don’t understand. Miss Leonard’s engagement has nothing to do with me.”

“It will affect you, though, will it not? Once Miss Leonard is married, she will no longer require a companion. You will be obliged to find a new position.”

Rebecca gave a sharp little intake of breath, as if he had jabbed her in the stomach. Necessity urged Sebastian to exploit the weakness he had exposed. Anything that elicited this kind of response clearly mattered a great deal to her and could be turned to his advantage. But he was distracted by a deep pang of concern. That last thing he wanted was to cause her distress.

But before he could muster an apology, she answered in that disarmingly honest way of hers. “What you say is true. I cannot pretend I am looking forward to leaving behind the life I have made for myself in this idyllic part of the country. Nor am I eager to go elsewhere and begin all over again. I
know there are many who would relish such a change, perhaps even regard it as an adventure.”

As she spoke, her voice grew softer and huskier until it died away altogether. Sebastian knew what she meant to say next. “But you are not one of those people?”

Rebecca shook her head. “I cherish everything familiar. I long for stability and security the way some people long for fame or fortune.”

As direct and open as she was, Sebastian sensed this was not something she would tell just anyone, not even Miss Leonard. He felt honored and deeply moved that she had chosen to confide in him.

She glanced toward the house. “I envy you this place, though not because it is so grand and elegant. I only think how pleasant it must be to walk the halls where your ancestors once walked, to use the rooms they furnished, to look upon scenes they once beheld. To know that, however far you go or how long you remain away, you always have this home waiting for your return. I would feel the same if it were a manor house like the Leonards’ or even a snug little cottage.”

He’d never thought of the old place in that way before, Sebastian realized. He had taken for granted that it would always be here, never much changed. How would he feel if he were obliged to leave it, not knowing if he would ever return? What if he’d never had a place to call home?

“Rebecca…” He stopped and turned toward her, possessed by an irresistible urge to offer her a comforting embrace.

Fortunately, she still had some grasp of propriety, which had suddenly deserted him. “I beg your pardon, Lord Benedict! I should not have spoken so unguardedly. Pay no heed to my ramblings.”

Abruptly she released his arm and rushed ahead toward the main garden, talking even faster than she walked. “Moving from one position to another is a natural part of my profession. When children grow up, their governess must seek a new situation. I have been unusually fortunate to remain as Miss Leonard’s companion even after she outgrew the need for a governess. It would be cruelly selfish of me to desire that the dear girl should never marry so I could continue indefinitely in my position. I would rather go elsewhere, knowing she will have the companionship of a devoted husband.”

By the time she finished, Rebecca was gasping for breath.

“Please wait,” Sebastian entreated her, but she hurried on.

He could have reached out and restrained her but that seemed wrong somehow. Instead, he strode past her and ducked around the final trellis to block her path.

She gave a start when he suddenly appeared in front of her, coming to an abrupt halt.

“Please excuse me,” he begged. “I never meant to imply you would put your own interests ahead of your friend’s. On the contrary, I admire your wish to see Miss Leonard happy even if it means an unwelcome change for you.”

“Think no more of it, sir.” Rebecca’s gaze darted as if seeking a way around him. “You could not know I had such strong feelings on the subject.”

“I share your desire for security and stability,” Sebastian admitted. “Though having a fixed home, no matter how grand, does not always ensure those blessings.”

What on earth had made him say that? It was a subject he had never broached with anyone—not even his brother.

When Rebecca cast him a questioning glance, he feared
he might be tempted to say more. Before she could draw him out, he stepped back to let her pass. “The clouds are gathering. I expect you and Miss Leonard will want to be on your way before it rains.”

Even as he suggested it, Sebastian was torn between a desire to maintain his privacy and the urge to remain in Rebecca’s company.

For a moment she seemed poised to question him, then appeared to reconsider. “You are right, Lord Benedict. It
is
time we returned to Rose Grange.”

They walked side by side in uneasy silence for several steps, then she spoke again. “I fear our debate has not persuaded either of us to alter our opinions. If anything, mine are more deeply entrenched than ever.”

Sebastian could not deny that. Yet the prospect of further discussions and further meetings with Rebecca Beaton appealed to him. “Never fear. This debate of ours is far from over.”

“Thank goodness
that’s
over!” As the carriage drove away from Stanhope Court, Hermione sank back in her seat with a dramatic flourish. “I have never been so thoroughly cowed in all my life. I find it hard to believe Claude and Lord Benedict are even
half
brothers, they are so little alike.”

“Half brothers?” Rebecca mused. “I had no idea. There is a resemblance in looks, though very little in character.”

Though Claude Stanhope was a boyishly handsome young man with a most engaging manner, Rebecca could not deny she found Sebastian even more attractive on both counts. In spite of his prejudice against Hermione, he was a fine man who cared about his brother and his country and treated her as his equal.

“So tell me,” urged Hermione in the tone of a gleeful
conspirator, “do you still deny you can charm Lord Benedict? If he liked me even half as well as he likes you, I should not have a moment’s worry of him turning Claude against me.”

“I’m certain he would never do that.” Rebecca sprang to Sebastian’s defense again, then recalled how he had tried to enlist her to break up the match. “And I am even more certain he thinks nothing of me except as your companion.”

Rebecca cringed to recall how easily she had deluded herself into hoping otherwise. What could have possessed her to imagine Viscount Benedict had been about to propose to her? Fortunately the notion had been so far from his true intentions that he’d had no idea of her foolish false hopes. If he ever guessed, she would be thoroughly mortified.

Now she knew the truth. He had only cultivated her acquaintance as a means of ending his brother’s engagement. She could not bring herself to tell Hermione. The poor girl was intimidated enough by the viscount already. If, as Rebecca hoped, the marriage went ahead, she did not want the knowledge of Sebastian’s machinations to create animosity between him and his sister-in-law.