She swallowed. “Not typically, no.”
“Perhaps politics are not proper nightcap talk-” Sebastian started to say, only to be cut off by Greeling.
“I should hope not,” the man said to her, ignoring her husband completely. “I would hate to think that Brightwater here is sympathetic to the Liberals, with a radical for a wife.”
Augusta thought she heard a choking sound emanate from Sebastian’s throat at the word ‘radical.’
“He certainly isn’t,” Lord Bancroft said resolutely, shooting Sebastian an unmistakable warning look. “I assure you, Greeling, he is on our side.”
In a flash, he sent that same warning expression Augusta’s way. She felt the sting of it right away. It ought to have cowed her. Instead, it incensed her further.
“Perhapsyour sideought to try actually speaking to a woman sometime,” she said to Lord Bancroft, unable to mask the vitriol in her voice. God, she hated the prick.
“And perhaps your husband ought to learn to control his wife,” Greeling sneered, his voice rising with each word.
Augusta reared back as though she had been slapped. She opened her mouth to bite back at the beast, but Sebastian beat her to it.
“Bite your tongue, Greeling,” he said sharply. “Before I decide that being in your corner is no longer of value to me.”
Bancroft’s attention snapped to Sebastian so quickly thatAugusta thought his neck might snap. The air in the room grew hot.
“Brightwater does not mean that-” Lord Bancroft started, but Greeling was already standing up.
“I believe I will be cutting my nightcap short,” the man said with no small bit of disgust. “I’d say it was an honor, Bancroft, but I do not color myself a liar.”
Before Bancroft could plead his case and convince the man to stay, Greeling was gone, striding out the door with purpose.
Augusta breathed a sigh of relief. She was not sad to see the gentleman go. Although, it did not dissipate any of the tension in the room - especially when Lord Bancroft turned his ire back on Sebastian.
“What the hell was that?” he demanded, standing up. He was already an imposing man in stature, but right then, he was positively looming.
Sebastian stood as well, likely trying to mitigate the effects of said looming. Augusta followed, curious if he was going to storm out, as well. But no; he stood his ground against his friend.
“That was me seeing Greeling for the cad that he is.”
“‘Cad that he is,’” Lord Bancroft scoffed. “He is a politician, it is practically symbiotic with being a cad. Your whole job was to assure him that he will win, and that you will be in his corner. That was all.”
“You heard the way he spoke to Augusta,” Sebastian said defensively, gesturing to her.
Lord Bancroft’s nostrils flared, rage etched into his every feature.
“You are throwing away your future for a chit and her bloody dowry,” he bit out.
“Bancroft!” Sebastian growled, irate. His eyes flew to Augusta, as though trying to ascertain her reaction.
For a moment, she did not have a reaction. The words, so strangely ordered, merely rang in her mind. Why would Lord Bancroft bother mentioning her dowry? It was so out of pocket, so irrelevant.
So why did Sebastian look so guilty?
“What?” Lord Bancroft said with a haughty, cruel laugh. “It is not as though she is above keeping secrets fromyou.”
He turned and looked at Augusta, and his gaze pierced into her, and sheknew. By God, did she know that the man before her knew everything, all of her secrets, all of things she’d hidden so well.Soonhad arrived. It would happen whether she liked it or not.
But how? How did he know?
She had no time to dwell on the question. Lord Bancroft set his own drink upon the fireplace mantle and moved closer to Augusta and Sebastian. Augusta stood, frozen in place, knowing that even if she ran out of the room right that moment, she would not be able to outrun the inevitable.
“Would you like to tell him, Lady Brightwater? Or shall I do the honors?”
