“Yes,” Bancroft nodded. “But I love winning. And I have decided that Lord Greeling is going to win. Whether that win also secures you a special license right now is up to you.”
It was an obvious choice. “Fine. I will back whomever you choose, just get me the bloody license by tomorrow morning.”
Bancroft scoffed again, this time with less of a slur. “I could have you one within the hour if I did not plan on vomiting instead. But since Idoplan on that, I will have it for you in the morning. And thereafter, you will have an opening for a career in politics.”
God, this again. “Why are you so eager to see me work?”
“Because no dowry lasts forever, and if you end up penniless, then you will have to live with me. And frankly, Brightwater, Iwould rather die than see your ugly mug every day.”
Sebastian huffed out a small laugh. In an instant, his friend’s annoying idiosyncrasies faded away, and he recalled why he kept Bancroft around in the first place. He was the only man in the world who could make him laugh at such a tense, uncertain time as this, wherein every tiny decision mattered. And yet, Bancroft could look at it all and wave it away as though it were nothing.
It reminded Sebastian that soon, itwouldbe nothing. His life would be back in order. Improved, even, with a good woman at his side, and children on the horizon, and a family legacy that he had restored.
“I shall let you get go about the business of vomiting, then,” he said, standing up and taking his leave. “Good night, my friend.”
He was about halfway through the study door when Bancroft called out, “Oy, Brightwater.”
Sebastian turned back, surprised to find Bancroft looking almost contrite before putting on another pursed-lip, haughty expression. With a roll of his eyes, he said, “I will stop calling her Piglet. Not just to you, but…you know, to everyone.”
It was as close to approval as he was ever going to get from Bancroft. Therefore, he had no choice but to accept it.
“Thank you,” he said. “You still won’t be the best man, though.”
Bancroft’s head shot up. “What do you mean I will not be the best man? I am…thebestman.”
“Yes, but it is Browning’s sister that I am marrying, therefore he gets the slot.”
Bancroft made a face, crossing his arms. “I did not know that you sleeping with one of my sisters was a prerequisite for the position.”
Sebastian’s grin grew. “Yes, well, apparently it is.”
“Fine. See if you get invited to my wedding at all, then.”
Now it was Sebastian’s turn to scoff. “Yourwedding? You have to ask the bloody girl, first.”
Before Bancroft could try to bluster some sort of defense, Sebastian sauntered off, leaving his friend to fend off the inevitable hangover that would bite him tomorrow.
Chapter Fifteen
The tension in the drawing room had reached its peak by the time Lord Brightwater - Sebastian, as Augusta had come to start calling him in her mind - arrived at the Browning home the next day.
It had been over breakfast that morning that Augusta told Reginald of Lord Brightwater’s proposal, and her acceptance of it.
His spoon had nearly dropped to his porridge at the news.
“You said yes?”
He asked it as though wanting to ensure that he had heard correctly.
“I did,” Augusta had said, trying to keep her voice steady and aloof as she said it. Still, the lingering feel of Sebastian’s hands in her hair the night before made it difficult to speak of him without her cheeks going pink. “He will be arriving today with a special license. I am assuming that means that he has already asked your permission.”
Reginald distractedly nodded, lost in thought. “Yes, yes, he asked me a while ago.”
Augusta halted. “A while ago? But he has only spoken to me for a few weeks.” Saying it aloud, her engagement now seemed even hastier than she had previously thought it.
Reginald’s eyes widened, and she thought for a moment that she witnessed fear play out across his expression. But it quickly came under control, and as swiftly as it was noticed, it was also forgotten.
“I only mean that he spoke to me the other evening, and I clearly gave him leave to move forward. Only if you accepted, of course.”
