What You Desire (Anything for Love, Book 1) (9 page)

Allowing anger and frustration to bolster her courage, she decided to confront them. The least she deserved was an explanation. So she stomped across the grass, picking up her hat and coat. As she approached the carriage, the coachman coughed loudly. Before she could raise her hand to knock, the door swung open and Dane vaulted out.

“I hate to spoil your little
tete-a-tete
,” Sophie said placing her hand on her hip. “But will someone please tell me what on earth is going on.”

“If you’d care to step inside,” he said pulling down the steps for her to climb in. “Amy will explain everything.”

“Why would I —” Sophie began.

Dane did not give her chance to finish before scooping her up in his arms, dumping her on the carriage floor and folding up the steps. “Until tomorrow, Miss Beaufort,” he said, offering a graceful bow as Amy darted forward and pulled the door shut.

“Do not stop until you reach town,” Dane shouted as the carriage lurched forward.

Chapter 10

“The Marquess of Danesfield,” Dudley Spencer’s butler announced without the slightest inflection.

His friend would most certainly find the introduction amusing, Sebastian thought, as he stepped across the threshold into the study.

As predicted, Dudley walked around the desk and gave a theatrical bow. “My lord, welcome to my humble abode.”

Sebastian grasped Dudley’s shoulders and pulled him into a welcoming embrace, as though it had been considerably longer than a week since they last met.

“What has brought you back to London so soon? Please tell me you’re not missing me already,” Dudley teased. His smile faded as he examined Sebastian’s dusty and slightly crumpled attire. “Did you ride here directly?” Dudley asked, his voice laced with concern.

Sebastian smiled. “You always were extremely perceptive.”

“Is that not why we work so well together?” Dudley placed a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. “Come, take a seat. Have you eaten?”

“Not since last night,” Sebastian sighed, throwing himself into the leather chair opposite Dudley’s desk. “There is someone I wish to avoid and I could hardly call in at my club looking like this.”

Haines had not taken Miss Beaufort to his official London residence, but to a house he used purely for business purposes. A house in a quieter part of town where his neighbours were not members of the
ton
, but doctors, lawyers and bachelors who all struggled to make time to eat and sleep, let alone concern themselves with other people’s affairs.

She would be safe there.

Dudley rang the bell, requested a cold platter and a bottle of his best claret and then took a seat behind his desk and focused an inquisitive gaze on Sebastian. “Now you have my full attention,” he said. Leaning back in the chair, he steepled his fingers. “What do you mean there is someone you wish to avoid? Please tell me this is not about a woman.”

After all the years spent working together, they understood the need to be honest with one another. To withhold information often meant putting lives in danger and so they’d made a pact never to keep secrets.

“The person I wish to avoid is the person I brought with me to London,” Sebastian said, running his fingers through his hair.

Aware of Dudley’s confused expression, Sebastian proceeded to tell him everything — including a rather embarrassing confession relating to an impromptu kiss at Rockingham Pool.

“I could not help myself,” Sebastian declared, standing to pace back and forth in front of the desk. “I don’t know what came over me. One minute I am sitting on my horse admiring the view. The next, I am devouring her mouth with the urgency of an opium addict drinking his last tincture.”

“Without wishing to cause insult,” Dudley said in an even tone, “from what you have told me, Miss Beaufort is hardly gently bred and by your own declaration was a willing partner.”

“That does not make it right,” Sebastian argued, thoroughly ashamed of himself. The thought of his blatant disregard for propriety caused his temperature to rise, and he pushed his fingers down between his neck and his collar in an attempt to allow the air to circulate.

Dudley narrowed his gaze and the corners of his mouth curved into a mischievous grin. “Do you care for her?”

His question was like a slap in the face and Sebastian stopped his pacing and placed both hands on the back of the chair for support. “Of course not. I hardly know her,” he blurted. “Most of the time I have to stop myself from grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking some sense into her.” Or from pushing her to the ground, covering her with his hard body and plundering her sweet mouth, he added silently.

Dudley laughed. “I seem to remember feeling the same way about Charlotte, and I married her.”

“I am not going to marry Miss Beaufort.”

“Yet in the space of a few hours you’ve kissed her twice,” Dudley said, making him sound like the worst of scoundrels. “You need a wife and you said yourself, as soon as all financial matters concerning the estate were settled your priority would be to beget an heir.” Dudley shrugged. “Why not ask Miss Beaufort? She obviously stirs some grand passion within you. I have never seen you so agitated over a woman. I have never seen you so … so …” Dudley waved his hand in the air as he struggled to find the right word.

“Frustrated?” Sebastian offered.

“I was going to say unbalanced,” Dudley replied, unable to hide his amusement. “I assume Miss Beaufort will stay in Red Lion Square. But what about you?”

Sebastian swallowed. “I cannot leave her there alone.”

“You intend to stay there with her? Is that wise?”

Sebastian didn’t have chance to answer the question as there was a gentle knock on the door and a footman entered carrying a tray of meats, cheese, and sweet biscuits.

Dudley cleared a pile of papers and asked for it to be placed on the desk. “Don’t wait for me,” he said obviously aware of Sebastian's greedy gaze. “You look ravenous. It’s a good job Miss Beaufort’s not here as you’d be in danger of devouring her whole.”

“Am I to be the whipping boy for all your poor jokes?”

Dudley patted him on the back and handed him a glass of claret.
“I hate to be the one to preach —”

“That’s a lie,” Sebastian interjected. “You love making me look foolish.”

“Well, yes. But as your friend I feel it my duty to remind you of the potential outcome of your situation. You know I speak from experience.”

Sebastian swished his wine around in the glass. ‘There is only one possible outcome,” he said, his tone subdued. “I shall return Miss Beaufort to her brother, untouched and unwed.”

Dudley’s mouth curved into a sardonic grin. “I think we both know that will not be the case.”

Sebastian muttered a curse and popped a chocolate macaroon into his mouth.

They sat for a while in relaxed silence while Dudley dipped his nib into the inkwell and scratched out a few notes.

“Do you want me to inquire into Lord Beaufort’s whereabouts?” Dudley asked as Sebastian finished his repast.

“No, I shall see to Beaufort,” Sebastian replied taking a mouthful of wine. “I need you to find out anything you can about the Comte de Dampierre. He must have an address here in town. Miss Beaufort seemed confident she could find him if need be. She seems to think some sort of deal had been struck. Her brother had promised to sell or trade the necklace and then for some reason refused.”

Dudley frowned. “Can you trust Lord Beaufort?”

“With my life,” Sebastian replied without hesitation. “The gentleman I know would not renege unless something prompted him to do so.”

Dudley put a definite cross through one of the notes he had scribbled. “Is the necklace valuable? Perhaps when Beaufort came to London, he discovered it was paste and didn’t want to look foolish.”

Sebastian laughed. “You’re thinking of the time we traipsed halfway around France looking for Lord Pottersham’s mistress after she’d run off with his wife’s necklace.”

Dudley’s eyes flashed with amusement. “It would have been helpful if his wife had mentioned she’d swapped the gems for paste.”

“Here, you may see for yourself,” he said removing the pouch from the concealed pocket sewn inside his coat. He stepped forward and placed the pouch on the table before returning to his seat. “I couldn’t take the risk of leaving it behind.”

Dudley opened one of the desk drawers and removed a rosewood magnifying glass. Rolling out the pouch, he took the necklace to the window to examine it in the light. “I must say it is a rather fetching piece.”

The rubies twinkled like the stars and Sebastian caught his breath as his mind conjured an image of it draped around Miss Beaufort’s bare neck. Except in Sebastian’s mind, it was not just her neck that was bare.

“Most definitely not paste. There are too many imperfections, too many signs of nature’s impurities,” Dudley murmured. He returned to his chair and placed the necklace on top of the velvet pouch. “I’m not qualified to place any sort of value on it, but even so, the thought of value does raise a very important question.”

“I know what you are going to say,” Sebastian said, bringing his wayward thoughts to heel. “If no money has changed hands then why would Beaufort negating their deal be so important to Dampierre? Why would he travel all the way to Marchampton unless the deal had already been done?”

“I would wager, Miss Beaufort knows more than she is letting on. Else why would she be so determined to relieve you of the necklace?”

Sebastian knew she’d not been completely honest. It took an awful amount of courage to scheme one’s way into someone’s home and the act suggested an element of desperation. It was part of the reason why he’d insisted accompanying her.

“I think it is fair to assume that Beaufort has something belonging to this Dampierre fellow,” Dudley continued, glancing down at the necklace. “It must be something of great value to send a peer into hiding and a French comte scouring the country.”

An image of James Beaufort’s female companion flooded his mind: the disguise, the reluctance to call out her name, the need to take cover in the woods. “You’re not going to believe this,” Sebastian said as recognition dawned. “But I believe Beaufort and Dampierre are at odds over a woman.”

Chapter 11

It was late afternoon when Sebastian rode Argo into the mews. After dismounting, he gave the horse a reassuring pat before handing him over to Peter: an orphan boy of fourteen, whose passion for horses surpassed any young buck frequenting Tattersall’s.

“Don’t worry. Cronus is safe,” Sebastian said ruffling the boy’s hair in a bid to ease his troubled expression. “He’s stabled out of town, but I’ll collect him when I return to Marchampton.”

Peter sighed. “I thought you’d gone and sold him for this one,” he said, stroking Argo’s nose.

“I would never sell Cronus,” Sebastian said placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “This is Argo, but he’s only visiting so don’t get too attached.” He smiled at Peter’s look of wondrous appreciation. “Is Haines about?” Sebastian was curious to know how Haines had fared with his minx of a passenger.

The boy shook his head. “No, my lord. He said they need him in the house.”

With some trepidation, Sebastian made his way inside. No doubt, Miss Beaufort had been causing all sorts of trouble in his absence. He wondered if she would be waiting for him, ready to pounce, ready to lash out with her sharp tongue and he imagined dodging books and ornaments while trying to calm her volatile temper.

He found Haines in the kitchen, sitting at the oak table in just his shirtsleeves, helping Amy polish cutlery. Mrs. Cox stood at the counter, rolling out pastry.

“Good afternoon,” Sebastian said. They were so busy chatting, no one seemed to notice he was standing there.

“My lord,” Haines replied looking a little embarrassed as he stood to attention. “I didn’t know you were back.”

Amy jumped up quickly, knocking over the chair, and Haines walked around and picked it up while she bobbed a curtsy.

The kitchen door burst open and a pale, thin girl scuttled in carrying a tea tray, coming to a crashing halt directly in front of Sebastian.

Mrs. Cox rushed forward, wiping her hands on her apron, her plump face dotted with flour. “You do remember me telling you about my niece, my lord?”

Sebastian nodded. “Yes, I do. It is Sarah, is it not?”

The girl attempted a curtsy but looked like she was ducking under a swinging branch. “Thank you, my lord, for giving me this position. There’s not many who would take a girl who’s got a kiddie.”

Sebastian smiled and helped her to steady the tray. “Is that
Miss Beaufort’s luncheon?” he inquired, noticing she hadn’t touched a morsel. Perhaps she was still annoyed with him and this was a form of punishment. Given the option, he’d choose assault with a vase over silent manipulation. “I assume she’s still in her room?”

Haines spoke up. “She asked for a bath to be drawn, my lord, and for Amy to press her clothes.”

The thought of Miss Beaufort lounging in a bath, just a few feet above, sent his pulse racing and he placed his fingers behind the knot in his cravat to loosen it a little.