Sebastian paced the parlor as he waited for Edith to return with his drink. His fingers curled tightly into fists at his side. If Prestwick were still alive, he’d call him out. How the bastard could look into Helena’s soulful eyes and refuse to help her family proved how dark his heart had been. And her own father gave her away. Sebastian cursed him under his breath.
A door slammed and he jumped.
“Where is he?” a man demanded.
“My lord, it’s not how it appears.”
“Lavinia!” Angry footsteps stomped down the foyer and started up the stairs.
Bollocks! It was St. Ambrose, and he was going to discover Helena. Sebastian dashed for the parlor door. “Are you looking for me?”
The marquess halted near the top of the stairs, turned, and slammed back down the stairwell. “What the hell are you doing in my house?”
Edith cowered at the edge of the foyer. Her gaze was trained on the stairs as if contemplating the odds of reaching the upper floor before the marquess overtook her.
Sebastian lifted a haughty brow as the man approached. “Clearly not what you think.” He spread his arms wide and indicated his clothed state. “But you have a wicked imagination, St. Ambrose.”
The man bore his teeth and drew back his fist. Sebastian bobbed to the left just in time to dodge. The marquess’s punch merely grazed his ear. His miss fueled his rage and he charged Sebastian. Sidestepping, Sebastian kicked out his foot to catch St. Ambrose’s ankle. The marquess lurched forward into the parlor and landed hard on a side table. The fragile piece splintered.
The man was older than Sebastian’s five-and-twenty years, which gave Sebastian a slight advantage, but the marquess was still fit in his early thirties.
“If you will listen instead of trying to kill me, St. Ambrose, I can explain my presence.” Only Sebastian hadn’t thought that far ahead. He couldn’t think of anything other than getting Helena out of this situation unscathed, which might mean admitting to something he wasn’t guilty of doing.
The marquess wasn’t interested in an explanation anyway. He lumbered to his feet, his face redder than Sebastian thought humanly possible. “I know who you are,” he said with a jab of his finger in Sebastian’s direction, as if that explained the man’s mad behavior.
This time when St. Ambrose barreled toward him, Sebastian hooked an arm around his neck and swung behind him to lock the man in a hold. The marquess struggled and Sebastian tightened his grip. He didn’t want to cut off the man’s air, but applied pressure to his windpipe to show he could if he wanted. This didn’t slow St. Ambrose. He cursed and bucked as Sebastian threw his weight against him in an attempt to knock him to the ground. St. Ambrose’s leg kicked back and struck Sebastian’s shin.
“Damnation!” He jerked the marquess to the side in one last effort to take him down and they both stumbled into the tea cart.
The porcelain pieces fell one after the other and shattered on impact with the wood floor. A feminine screech made them both jerk upright and spin toward the door. Miss Kendrick stood in the threshold, her fists punched to her hips.
“Gus, what the devil are you doing?”
Helena came up behind her sister. Sebastian mouthed the word go, but she stared at him in bemusement. Did the stubborn chit ever listen?
“I was going to ask you the same, Lavinia.” St. Ambrose wrenched free and dusted off his trousers. His gaze landed on Helena. “Lady Prestwick, are you here with Thorne?”
Sebastian winced. They were in a pickle now.
Miss Kendrick lifted her chin. “She most certainly is. Now why are you attacking my guest? I’ve never seen you behave in such a manner.”
A young girl with eyes as big as Helena’s padded into the parlor. Bare feet stuck out beneath her white night rail. She cocked her head to the side to study Sebastian. “Do we have an intruder?” She was strangely calm about the situation.
Miss Kendrick hugged her. “No, my darling. Lord Thorne is not an intruder.”
“What is he doing here?
Sebastian offered a slight bow. “I’m sorry we frightened you. You are Gracie, are you not? My name is Sebastian.”
“I wasn’t frightened.” The girl’s smile was identical to Helena’s. “It is nice to meet you, sir.”
Miss Kendrick smoothed a hand over Gracie’s honey-colored curls as Helena watched with a pained look. “Lord Thorne brought a visitor to see you,” Miss Kendrick said. “Do you remember hearing about your oldest sister, Helena?”
St. Ambrose sucked in a sharp breath, his gaze shooting to Miss Kendrick, then Helena. Gracie turned assessing eyes on Helena too.
“Yes, she was the best sister any girl could want and she loved me very much. She died when I was a baby.”
Tears pooled in Helena’s eyes. Sebastian went to her, unable to stand by while she suffered. She sank against him. Her trust was welcome and he silently vowed to never betray it.
Miss Kendrick pulled the girl in front of her and rested her hands on her shoulders. “There was a mistake. Our sister didn’t die. She is here now. Gracie, I would like to introduce you to Helena, Lady Prestwick.”
She tilted her head back to look up at Miss Kendrick. “Should I curtsy like I do with Lord St. Ambrose?”
Helena swiped a tear as it fell on her cheek. “Heavens, no. I am your sister. No one curtsies to one’s sister.”
The girl smiled. “I’m not very good at it anyway.”
St. Ambrose came forward and ruffled her hair. “You do a very fine job of it, but your sister has a point. I don’t want you to curtsy to me either.”
Her smile widened showing matching dimples. “But you aren’t my sister.”
The marquess chuckled, the remaining tension melting from his posture. “Well, I’m family, so that should matter.”
Miss Kendrick’s lips thinned. Apparently, she didn’t agree he was part of their family, but she didn’t contradict him.
Edith tentatively peeked into the parlor. “I have that brandy for Lord Thorne, and I poured one for Lord St. Ambrose too.” She lifted two tumblers into the air as if presenting a peace offering.
“Thank you, Edith,” St. Ambrose said. “I apologize for startling you earlier.”
She ventured into the room, handed a glass to Sebastian then the marquess, and made a quick exit.
“You are supposed to be in bed,” Miss Kendrick said to Gracie. Her chide was gentle and she made no move to send her away despite her words.
“I was in bed until the noise woke me. I want to visit with Helena.”
Miss Kendrick kissed the top of her head. “I’m sure she would like that.”
The girl grabbed Helena’s hand and urged her to the sofa. Sebastian hung back to allow them time without him getting in the way.
Miss Kendrick gestured to St. Ambrose. “May I speak with you in the foyer, my lord?”
He followed her and mumbled an apology to Sebastian as he passed.
“I sent you a message,” Miss Kendrick hissed as soon as they cleared the doorway. “Why are you here?”
“You never ask me to stay away. I was concerned something might be wrong with Gracie or Edith. I thought you might need a doctor.”
She sighed. “Gus, when are you going to accept I’m capable of taking care of my family?”
“But you don’t have to anymore. I want to take care of you. I have asked you—”
“Stop. I refuse to have this conversation now.”
Sebastian felt a measure of pity for the man. He couldn’t imagine how difficult it must be to want to care for someone who wouldn’t allow it. He eased away from the door in an attempt to provide the marquess and Miss Kendrick privacy, but he couldn’t escape overhearing them.
“You cannot tell anyone about Helena. If anyone knows she was here…”
“Lavinia, you know me better than that. I would never do anything to hurt you or your family. I love you.”
There was a long pause. Sebastian pretended interest in a nearby painting, expecting the couple to return and not wanting them to realize he was privy to their conversation.
“I know you would never hurt us, my love. You are the kindest man I have ever known.” Miss Kendrick’s voice assumed a teasing tone. “Although your kindness doesn’t extend to side tables andtea services.”
They laughed softly together.
“I will send replacements tomorrow. Forgive me for behaving like an animal this evening, but the thought of you with another man…”
“I would never. I swear it upon my mother’s grave. You must know I love you too, August.”
Sebastian’s cravat had become too tight and he tugged to loosen it. Over the last day, he had come to acknowledge his love for Helena, but until he overheard St. Ambrose and Miss Kendrick speaking of their problems, Sebastian had not realized loving another person did not guarantee a happy outcome. Helena had made it clear she was content living as an independent woman, which did not bode well for a future together. Dizziness drove him to join her and her youngest sister around the low table.
Too many sensations swirled inside him—in his head, gut, and chest. He sipped his brandy, preferring to observe rather than participate in their conversation as he tried to sort the unfamiliar feelings.
Gracie blinked her deep blue eyes at him. “Lord Thorne, are you Helena’s lover?”
Helena gasped. “Heavens, no. How do you even know about such things?”
Sebastian arched his eyebrows as if to say, “Isn’t it obvious?” A courtesan was raising the girl. She would be exposed to situations other young girls wouldn’t, at least none in their circle.
“I don’t know. I am sorry.” Gracie picked at her night rail, avoiding eye contact.
“Oh, Gracie.” Helena patted her knee. “It is all right. You caught me by surprise, but no harm done. Lord Thorne is an acquaintance. He agreed to help find you and Lavinia, and he has fulfilled his promise admirably.”
There was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He thought of them as more than mere acquaintances. He could understand how their association might be difficult to explain to a young girl, but identifying him as a friend would have been preferable. Helena hadn’t even spared him a warm glance.
The marquess and Miss Kendrick returned with Edith. “It is past your bedtime, young lady,” Miss Kendrick said with a smile. “Say good night.”
Gracie smiled shyly at Helena. “May I hug you?”
“That would make me very happy.” After Gracie collected hugs from Helena and Miss Kendrick, Edith ushered the girl from the parlor.
Silence descended over the room. No one spoke for some time until it began to feel awkward. Finally, Helena cleared her throat. “I will visit Cora and Pearl to make certain they are well-situated, and then I will return to collect Gracie as we agreed upstairs.”
Sebastian held his tongue. Helena was emotional from her reunion and not thinking clearly. She couldn’t bring an unknown girl into her home without stirring up rumors, especially one who shared similar physical traits.
Pain flashed in Miss Kendrick’s eyes. “I know it is for the best, but—”
Helena stepped forward to embrace her sister. “I am sorry, Lavinia. I wish there was another way. You have a place with me too, if you would accept it.”
Miss Kendrick kissed her cheek before withdrawing to dash away her tears. “I can’t. I belong here.”
After Helena said her good-byes to Miss Kendrick, Sebastian escorted her to his carriage. They hadn’t made it to the corner before she touched his arm. “Are you angry with me?” Her voice was soft, but the emotion echoed in the small space.
He stroked her cheek and smiled. “For not leaving when I said? No.”
“I meant for lying to you about my past. I should have told you the truth before we reached this point.”
Half her face was in shadow from the carriage lamp, reminding him of the side of her that she kept secret from most. He had known her past held some darkness. He’d seen the haunted reflection of it in her eyes. Now he understood the origin of her mistrust, and he wouldn’t condemn her for trying to protect herself.
“At what point would that be, love?” His hand moved to cradle her nape and his lips grazed hers.
Her eyes drifted shut, her breath growing uneven. “Before we became physically involved.”
Her answer was like a punch in the gut. He hadn’t considered it possible he was the only one falling in love. “Are you implying our connection is only physical? That you care nothing for me?”
“Of course not,” she said on a rush of breath. “I value our friendship very much, which makes it difficult to give you up.”
Sebastian drew back, his hand falling to his lap. “What do you mean by give me up?”
“I—” She swallowed hard. “I won’t be staying in London now that I have found my sisters. I can give Gracie a new beginning in Scotland just like my husband did for me.”
Sebastian’s jaw clenched. “Like Prestwick did for you.” The bloody Scot had been an opportunist who took advantage of a weak man and stole his daughter. “You make it sound as if you were a charity case, Helena. He took you from your family. Do not assign him heroic qualities he doesn’t deserve.”
“I know he wasn’t perfect, but he still saved me. Isn’t that the mark of a hero?”
Her admiration for Prestwick collided with Sebastian’s hatred for the blackguard, and a destructive storm brewed inside him. The carriage interior crackled with tense energy as she held his gaze, presumably awaiting an answer.
“How many times did he remind you that he saved you?” A low growl underscored his words. “Did he lord it over you every time you bucked his authority?”
“No, it wasn’t like that.” She rubbed her forehead, her eyes squeezed tightly together. “I never questioned his authority, and I regret every moment I submitted to his will.”
Sebastian let go of his anger for the man who had hurt her, because feeding the rage would only cause her more pain. Her guilt already weighed on her shoulders, leaving her slumped forward as if closing out everyone. She appeared so downtroddenand alone.
He put his arm around her. Her vulnerability was never so apparent than when she curled her small frame against his, seeking comfort. He exhaled in relief and drew her against his chest. His lips brushed her temple. Her feelings for him were stronger than she was willing or able to admit, so for now, he could love enough for both of them.
But he couldn’t let her go. Not just for his sake, but hers. If she returned to Scotland, Lavinia would not be part of her life. This couldn’t be what Helena truly wanted.
She lifted her face to him and he burrowed his fingers into her silky hair, knocking a pin loose, as his tongue teased her luscious mouth. She opened on a breath and dissolved against him. Her surrender was a sweet victory. She returned his kiss with the same passion she had shown outside the theatre.
He sensed the carriage slowing, then drawing to a stop. His lips traveled to her cheek, her temple, and finally to her gently curved ear. “Invite meinside, Helena.”
She eased from his embrace. The tip of her tongue flicked across her lips. Did she still taste him?
The carriage door flung open and Fergus glared at him. “What took you, lass? I havna been able to think on anything but if you found yer kin.”
Helena scrambled from the bench to hurry down the steps without extending Sebastian an invitation to join her. He gritted his teeth, ready to come to fisticuffs with the Scottish oaf for interrupting.
When she reached the ground, she smiled up at the giant. “Lord Thorne found them. Lavinia, Gracie, Cora, Pearl. They are all alive and well.”
The man released a lively whoop and lifted her in a hug. Sebastian didn’t have a chance to react before Fergus set her back on her feet and lobbed a grin at Sebastian. “Well done, my laird. You have made the lass verra happy.”
“He exceeded all expectations. I’m grateful for all he has done.”
Sebastian’s heart lurched. Why did that sound like a good-bye? “Helena…”
Her gaze shot in his direction but she didn’t respond to him. “I will call on Cora tomorrow then visit Pearl. By the week’s end we will begin our journey back to Aldmist Fell with Gracie.”
Her words were as powerful as a strike from Thor’s hammer.
Fergus frowned at him. “Are you certain, lass? There’s no urgency to return home. My cousin will take care of the land as long as necessary.”
“I’m sure you and Ismay are anxious to see your kin. There is no reason to delay.”
Devil take it! Sebastian would be damned if he was sent away like this. “We had a bargain, madam, or have you forgotten your end?” He climbed from the carriage.
In a surprising move, Fergus yielded to him, allowing Sebastian to stand toe to toe with the infuriating, stubborn, maddening woman. Her eyes widened.
“What about your promise to help my sister?” Sebastian said.
“B-but I fulfilled my promise. She is out in Society. You said she is likely to receive an offer of marriage soon.”
Sebastian lifted a haughty eyebrow, knowing his arrogance would engage her in a battle of wills. But a battle meant she was still engaged with him, and that was his only hope in keeping her. “The prospect of a marriage proposal is not the same as securing a match. Given the history of broken betrothals in my family, surely you understand my reluctance to release you from our bargain before my sister has married.”
She issued an outraged cry. “I never said I would help her make a marriage match.”
“It was implied, Lady Prestwick. What other reason is there for a young lady to join the assemblies?”
“I never said—”
“Ahem!” Fergus cleared his throat loudly. Helena blinked up at him. “Now, lass. It seems to me Laird Thorne has done you a good service finding your sisters. It isna right to break your word to him.”
“But I’m not breaking my word.”
The Scot kindly patted her shoulder. “If Miss Thorne receives an offer of marriage as expected and marries the lad after the banns are cried, Laird Thorne has no reason to feel slighted.”
Her puckered face nearly made Sebastian laugh aloud. It was as if she smelled something rotten. He detected it too. It was called conspiracy, and to him, it smelled sweet.
She threw her hands in the air. “This is ridiculous. I don’t know what you expect from me.”
“I expect you to remain in Town until my sister marries. If she requires more assistance, I can’t very well expect you to travel back from Scotland at a moment’s notice. Eve needs you here.”
Hell, Sebastian needed her in London if there was any hope for a future together. He couldn’t leave England and continue the work his father started before he became unfit for Society. Sebastian’s responsibilities were here, but he wouldn’t ask Helena to sacrifice her dreams for him. He would find a way to make them come true while keeping her where she belonged, by his side.
“Well,” she said with a slight huff, “if you expect me to sit around waiting for Sir Jonathan to come up to scratch, you are mistaken. The day after tomorrow, I am traveling to see Pearl and you cannot stop me.”
He allowed a lazy grin to spread across his face. “I wouldn’t dream of keeping you from your sister, madam. In fact, I look forward to making her acquaintance.”
She hitched her chin. “You are not invited.”
He took a step toward her, tempted to claim her bottom lip when it mutinously pushed out. Unfortunately, the Scot wasn’t likely to look the other way while Sebastian overstepped his bounds. He forced his hands to his sides, even though he ached to touch her. “If you think I am letting you out of my sight until our bargain is fulfilled, madam, you are mistaken. Would you like to invite me inside so we might discuss this further?”
When she glared, he smiled. “Insufferable beast,” she said and stormed inside, closing the door behind her.
Fergus chuckled. “You’ve riled her now, my laird. Very wise.”
“How so?”
“When the lass finally gives in, she will feel satisfied for having given a good fight. Carries too much guilt, that one. For kowtowing to Laird Prestwick, but she was just a girl. She couldna have won the battle.”
Sebastian’s nostrils flared at the mention of Prestwick. “Did he ever raise a hand to her?”
“No, his lairdship never abused her. She was afforded the same kindness he extended to his breeding mares.” Fergus’s derisive sneer revealed his poor opinion of his former employer. The Scot obviously cared for Helena, which made his overbearing manner less offensive all of a sudden. Her man inclined his head toward Sebastian. “But I’ve seen you with the lass. You listen to her wishes and treat her with kindness. Allow her to choose you and her heart will be yours forever.”
Sebastian sighed, considering the older man’s words. Fergus had known Helena for years. He was like family to her. If Sebastian were truly wise, he would heed the servant’s advice. “Perhaps I shouldn’t go to Haslemere with her.”
“I didna say let the lass run roughshod over you, my laird. Give her the fight she needs, so she can redeem herself in her eyes. Then it’s only a matter of time before she lets herself love you in return.”
Sebastian smiled ruefully. “Am I that obvious?”
Fergus cackled and slapped him on the back. “Aye, like a jackass at a garden party.”