Under different circumstances, with different timing, Sebastian might have liked the company of the man in front of him. He may have even invited him to the club to have drinks with Browning and - blast the man - Bancroft.
As it stood, Dr. Pinkton only reminded Sebastian of what he had gambled and lost. Therefore, he did not like the man a bit.
He sighed, feeling that he might deflate completely now that the confrontation with the doctor had amounted to nothing. There was no enemy - not Augusta, not Doctor Pinkton, not even his own actions.
“I do not know what to do,” he finally conceded. “Idolove her. I just worry that she will never believe me when I say it again.”
“Well, perhaps it is high time you stop saying it and start acting on it. The rally is at half-eleven in Trafalgar Square. You may use that information as you see fit.”
Sebastian knew by the man’s tone that this was it - he had been dismissed.
“Alright, then,” he said, standing up, feeling lighter and yet also feeling as though he had once again lost the battle. “I suppose I shall be seeing you again soon. In Trafalgar Square.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“I assure you, she would have preferred nearly anyone else in the entire world.”
Her husband’s voice was muffled through the drawing room door as Augusta approached it. Surprisingly, the sound of it did not grate her, nor did it make her think of turning tail and walking away. No, he had told her to meet him in the drawing room shortly after breakfast, and she was more than happy to do so.
In fact, she felt happy about nearly everything today. From the moment she’d left her conversation with Sebastian the day before, her very footsteps had felt lighter. The sun had even come out to greet them, shining brightly upon the frost which covered most of London, as though it knew of Augusta’s joy and wanted to partake in the celebration.
So when she pushed through the drawing room doors, even the sight of Lord Bancroft sitting on the chaise could not sour her mood.
Sebastian stood by the window, his arms crossed and his face pinched as he looked at his friend, but Augusta’s presence seemed to snap him from whatever tension he’d felt moments ago. He dropped his arms and smiled.
“Love,” he said softly, earning him an eye roll from his friend. “Come, sit.”
Augusta offered him a small smile - which felt rather genuine - and sat in a chair across from Lord Bancroft.
She’d known yesterday, when her husband had said that he would be recruiting the man as a source of a speech writer, that she might see him again. Even without the speech, he was a member of theton, and there would be no avoiding him in the long term.
What shocked her most was that she could not muster up the hatred that she had easily felt for him before. Likely, her mood was just so elevated that nothing could perforate its walls, but she suspected, too, that it was partly due to gratitude. Whatever help Lord Bancroft could give her in this moment, however begrudgingly given, was wholly welcomed.
“Good morning,” she said. “Am I to understand that you are my writer for the rally on Saturday?”
He gave a curt nod. “Yes, unfortunately. I…” he cleared his throat. “Well, I suppose I am…sorry, or something, for how I have behaved. And it sounds as though you need some assistance, so…we shall call all things evenly split between us after this.”
If an even split meant that they could go their separate ways after this, then Augusta was happy to swallow her pride.
“Of course, all is forgiven,” she said. When a sharp knock came at the drawing room door, she added, “From myself, at least. We shall see how Ginny feels.”
“Miss Greene?” Lord Bancroft’s brow nearly raised to the ceiling as the door opened and Ginny stepped inside, her waify figure nearly silent when she moved. He stood so quickly that his chair nearly toppled over behind him.
Ginny paused at the door, looking between the two of them, then over at Sebastian before dipping into a quick curtsy. “I apologize, I received a note that I am to call at this time. Am I interrupting something?”
“No!” Augusta rushed to say, at precisely the same moment that Lord Bancroft gave a sputtered, “Not at all.”
Sebastian, with a knowing smile, gestured to the chair beside Augusta. “Come join us, Miss Greene.”
Ginny did as he said, slowly moving over to them and taking a seat, her back straight as a pin. “Has something gone wrong?” she asked Augusta. “The urgency in your note worried me. And I suppose, well…I suppose I am surprised to find all of you in the same room.”
“Lord Bancroft is going to help me write my speech,” Augusta said, and the words seemed almost fanciful.
Ginny cast nervous glances from Sebastian to Lord Bancroft. Finally, she leaned in close to Augusta. “So they know, then? About Saturday?”
Lord Bancroft sat up straighter, rolling his shoulders. “Yes, in fact.”
Ginny looked at him, her expression as unreadable as ever.
