Perfect Bride (23 page)

“Well,” he stated coolly, “that went well.”

Sebastian fixed him with a glare of pure ice. “She did splendidly, and you know it.”

“Yes, I do know it, and I don’t mean Devon,” Justin pointed out stiffly. “I’m referring to your choice of prospective husbands. Why, those three buffoons could hardly keep their hands off her.”

While
he
, Sebastian reflected furiously, could hardly keep his hands off them. All the more reason to see her wed, he told himself, and quickly.

“And did you see Westfield? He used his quizzing glass to look at her br—”

“Yes,” Sebastian growled, “I saw.”

“Well, they won’t do. Any of them.”

Sebastian said nothing.

Justin eyed him. “Don’t tell me you favor one of those three!”

“I do not,” Sebastian affirmed, his tone danger
ously low. “Devon will not be marrying Mason, or Evans, and certainly not Westfield.”

“I see. Well, then, in that case, I’m heading back to London.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes. Devon may find the London air stifling, but I can’t wait to get back.”

Sebastian was well aware Justin was chafing. He’d been prowling restlessly all day, so he wasn’t sur
prised that Justin wouldn’t wait until morning to re
turn to London. Why, that Justin had even chosen to follow him here was amazing. Justin usually avoided Thurston Hall like the plague. Besides that, two days in the country tended to have that effect on a man of Justin’s nature.

He accompanied Justin to the front door and onto the steps, where a footman had already deposited his bags.

Justin turned to him. “It seems we accomplished little tonight. My God, can you imagine Devon being married to any of those three idiots! A suitable can
didate for her hand isn’t just going to stumble into our paths. Where do you suggest we look next?”

Justin’s practicality was beginning to set his nerves on edge, for at the moment, it wasn’t some
thing Sebastian really wanted to consider. But wasn’t that the whole point of tonight’s exercise?

“We’ve already established that my friends are out,” Justin continued, “but perhaps one of yours—”

“Out of the question.” Sebastian cut him off abruptly. He could not bear to see Devon wed to one of his friends! “We’ll just have to try again,” he told Justin curtly. “We need to marry her off, and quickly. Should it come to it, I’m sure the right husband can be found with a little added jingle in his pocket.”

“I suppose that’s a possibility,” Justin agreed. He paused. “How long will you remain here at the Hall?”

Sebastian shook his head. “I’m not sure.”

“Well,” Justin said, “if I should come up with any brilliant solutions, I shall return.” A brief salute, and he was gone.

Sebastian stepped back into the entrance hall, slowly closing the doors. A shadowy darkness spilled through him. God, but his head ached abominably, and he damn well knew a night’s rest wouldn’t cure it.

A rustle behind him snared his attention. He turned sharply, for he’d thought he was alone.

He was not.

A small figure stood in the shadows, there near the foot of the grand staircase.

Devon.

Their eyes locked endlessly. Hers were wide and unblinking, impossibly gold, the only hint of color in her white face.

She did not speak. She simply stared at him.

A vast, empty silence stretched between them.

And in the stillness of that never-ending moment, Sebastian damned himself to the very pits of hell and beyond—as he knew she damned him. Chilling certainty swept over him, and he knew, beyond thought, beyond reason...

Sweet Christ, she’d heard every word.

here was a heavy, suffocating pressure on Dev-on’s chest. It reminded her how once, when she was young, she’d been running through the streets and a pock-marked youth had stuck out his foot. She’d tripped on her skirts, falling flat on her face, the air driven from her lungs so that she couldn’t breathe. Her ears had been roaring. She’d been terri
fied beyond measure, for there was fire in her lungs, and all she could do was lie there, unable to move, trying desperately to breathe.

But that was not the worst of it. Hot shame flooded her, to the core of her being. When at last she was able to gather the presence of mind to drag in a harsh breath, she stumbled to her feet and ran the other way.

She felt the same way now.

The muscles in her face seemed frozen. Her limbs were like ice. She was certain if she moved, her very skin would crack.

Everything inside her rebelled. She refused to be
lieve what she’d just heard. Sebastian could never be so cruel, so devious! But there was no denying it, no denying the truth. For she could still hear him, his voice playing over and over, echoing in her mind un
til she wanted to retch.

I’m sure the right husband can be found with a little added jingle in his pocket.

Her insides twisted into a sick, ugly knot. Her face felt horribly hot. She battled a stinging rush of tears. Through some miracle, her throat locked tight against them.

Numbly she looked at him. For an instant she sensed that he was as stunned as she. She didn’t want to believe it, for this was Sebastian, whom she trusted. Sebastian, whom she loved.

“You would...
pay
a man to marry me?”

Delivered into that awful quiet, her voice was but a rusty sliver of sound. Lord, it actually
hurt
to say the words aloud.

The tension was nearly unbearable. In silence she confronted him, staring at him with eyes so dry they burned. And all the while Sebastian remained un
moving. The set of his shoulders reflected a quiet resignation.

“Tell me, Sebastian. You would pay a man to take me into his home and into his bed?”

The silence ripened. Sebastian remained still as a statue, his gray eyes fixed on her face. He didn’t even blink. And somehow that smothering quiet was far more devastating than anything he might have said.

Her eyes squeezed shut, then opened. Something flickered across his dark features then, something that might have been guilt.

An immense wave of pain swept over her. She pressed icy-cold fingertips to trembling lips. “Oh, God,” she said brokenly, and then again, “
Oh, God
.”

With a swirl of skirts, she flung herself headlong up the stairs. Behind her, there was a muttered curse. Footsteps pounded behind her, but she ran harder.

Why couldn’t he leave her be? Hadn’t he done enough? All she wanted was to be left alone. But just as she crossed the threshold of her room, the toe of one slipper caught on the hem of her gown. She sprawled across the floor, and it was just as before. The breath driven from her chest, she struggled to regain her footing and her breath.

Sebastian was already there. His hands on her waist, he tried to help her up.

“Leave me be!” she shouted. Wildly she swung an elbow.

He ducked just in time to save his nose. Abruptly he released her.

On her feet now, Devon faced him squarely. “Get out!”

He did not. Instead, with the calm, decisive man
ner that only he possessed, he closed the door very neatly with the heel of his hand. With the same econ
omy of movement he locked the door and deposited the key in the pocket of his waistcoat.

Devon’s gaze traveled from his pocket to his face. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?”

“You’re distraught,” he stated quietly.

“And you’re a bastard,” she charged feelingly. She’d progressed from shock to sheer, simmering rage. Her hand floated to her breast, a mocking par ody. “Oh, la, how could I have forgotten! Despite
your diligently tireless efforts to make me into a lady, I am the one who is a bastard, am I not?”

Their eyes tangled. “Do not belittle yourself, Dev
on. You are ever a lady and you know it. You proved it tonight. Besides, your origins have nothing to do with this—”

“Oh, but I beg to differ! My origins, as you like to put it, have everything to do with this. I told you once that I promised my mother I would never whore or steal or beg. You didn’t believe me then, and it’s clear your opinion of me has not changed!” She lashed out furiously. “I wouldn’t make my living on my back then, and I won’t do it now. I won’t let you make a whore of me.”

“A whore! For pity’s sake, Devon—”

“You would pay a man to take me into his home and into his bed! You would
pay
him!” she cried. “Isn’t that the same as whoring? Well, I won’t let you. Do you hear? I won’t let you!”

He stepped close. “Devon,” he said, his voice low and taut. “Devon, please.”

She gave a tiny shake of her head. Even now, when she was so angry and despairing, his nearness made her ache inside. All at once she felt as if she stood on the very precipice of the earth. And she didn’t know whether to leap away, into the darkness...

Or hurl herself straight into Sebastian’s arms.

But she was too hurt. Too angry.

Bitterness scored her soul. She raised her face to his. “Tonight was no casual evening of entertain ment, was it? It was something else. Something cal
culated. Oh, but I should have known. Naturally you would have
planned
it, as you plan everything. Per
haps I should be flattered you didn’t decide to auc
tion me off to the highest bidder tonight after din ner.”

Her scorn pricked him. A dull red flush crept be
neath the bronze of his skin.

“Devon, you have to listen—”

“I don’t! You tricked me, Sebastian. You tricked me! I wanted to be a governess, a companion, and you knew it. Was I such a miserable failure then? Is that what you foresee?”

“No.
No!
”

“Then if you wanted to be rid of me, all you had to do was say it!”

“Rid of you ...My God,” he said, stunned. “That’s not it at all!”

When he reached for her, she wrenched away.

He was undaunted. He caught her shoulders in his grasp and gave her a little shake.

“Devon, you have to listen to me. It’s not what you think. You’re so sweet and lovely, and once I found out you were a virgin...we were afraid, Justin and I...that you would end up at the whim and whimsy of some unscrupulous wretch who would try to take advantage of your innocence! And I knew you would never stand for it, I knew it! I couldn’t stand the thought that you might end up on the streets again ...I wanted to shield you, to keep you from harm’s way. I needed to know that you would be cared for always. Never cold...never hungry...”

She knew that he was saying he wanted to protect her. Perhaps in some far distant part of her, she
did
understand. But her hurt and feelings of betrayal were still too fresh.

Suddenly it was all spilling out. “I was so excited tonight...I thought...you wanted to introduce me
to your friends! I didn’t want to fail, Sebastian. I wanted to make you proud. I wanted to be all you taught me to be.”

“You are,” he said fiercely. “You were. And I
was
proud. You looked beautiful tonight. You
are
beauti
ful. Don’t you know any man would be glad to have you at his side?”

Her heart cried out,
Any man but you
.

“Do you remember that night in my room, when you carried me to bed?”

A smile appeared from nowhere. “You told me I was handsome. That I stole your breath away.”

“I’d have given myself to you that night.” The con
fession tripped off her tongue, torn from deep in
side. “Then you told me not to
ever
tell another man what I’d just told you. I-I was so ashamed, I thought I’d die. I didn’t know what I’d done that was so wrong.”

That fleeting smile vanished. “You did nothing wrong,” he said, his voice oddly strained. “It was me. And I wanted it too, I swear. It was just...if things were different ...if
I
were different.” His voice trailed off.

Her eyes filled with tears.

“Oh, Christ,” he said raggedly, “don’t cry.” He sounded as raw and tortured as she felt. Catching her around the waist, he dragged her close. He rocked her back and forth. “Don’t cry, love. It tears me apart when you do.”

Her fingers twisted into the fabric of his shirt. This was all she’d ever wanted—to be locked fast within the binding protection of his strong embrace. But not like this. Not when he was filled with regret, and she with pain. Not when she ached to the bottom of her
soul. Try though she might, she couldn’t withhold the dry, heartbreaking little sob that broke from her throat.

His arms tightened, his hold fiercely urgent. Lean fingers slipped beneath her hair, urging her face into the notch where his neck met his shoulder. A single tear leaked from beneath her lashes.

“I never meant to hurt you. It’s the last thing I want. Do you forgive me?” Fingers beneath her chin, he smoothed a tangled curl from her cheek. Word
lessly he captured her chin, bringing her gaze to his. As he lowered his head, their lips hovered but a breath apart.

“Devon, please tell me you forgive me.”

Their eyes clung. “I want to. But—” Trapped in a maelstrom of conflicting turmoil, she took a deep, tremulous breath. “I don’t know what I think,” she burst out, her voice choked with tears. “I don’t know what to believe.”

A warm, blunted fingertip trailed over the lilting arch of her brows, the rounded pertness of her nose, the slant of her cheek, the tender cord at the side of her neck. Her heart pounding, Devon stood para
lyzed beneath his touch, so gentle, so unbearably gentle.

His mouth grazed hers. Their breath mingled. “Believe this,” he whispered. “Believe me,” he said against her mouth, into it.

And then he kissed her.

Her heart constricted, for his kiss was far more than she expected, yet no more than she desired. With the feel of his mouth warm and hard upon hers, the tight knot of fear inside her slipped away. And she wondered how on earth a mere kiss could
be both tender and fierce, fiery and restrained all at once.

Yet it was, and she dreaded the moment it would end. The impossible sweetness of his mouth upon hers was balm to her wounded soul. The tumult within her slipped away, and in its stead was a fiery yearning, like hot, gilded sunlight streaming through her. There was only Sebastian. Hungry for more of this sweet sensation, hungry for
him
, her lips parted beneath the wordless demand of his.

The expert tutelage of his tongue brought her own out of hiding. When her tongue touched his, there was a low, vibrating growl deep in his chest. She could feel his arms hard around her back, drawing her closer and closer until there was no part of him she could not feel. Her hands were splayed against the broad plane of his chest. She was searingly aware of the aroused thickness of his maleness hard against the softness of her belly.