“What the devil are you doing here?” he barked, before gritting his teeth and shuffling like an old man to the table to snatch up the patch. It was an awkward thing to strive to put it on when every movement strained his stitches, ignited fire in his side. Where the hell was his valet?
Thomas worked his way between the ladies hovering in the doorway. “Your Grace—”
But then even he came to a stop at the hideous sight before him. Unlike his valet, the butler had never seen the scars that Sebastian’s clothes hid.
“We’d heard you were attacked,” Mary said, before striding across the room with purpose as though shot from a cannon.
Her aunt called after her, but she simply marched on. He was tempted to back away, but forced himself to stand his ground. Something in her determination unsettled him. It was dangerous for her to be here. Dangerous for them both.
She stopped so near, her orchid scent wafted around him. Reaching up, she adjusted the patch before skimming her hand lightly over his cheek, his jaw, his shoulder, bringing it to rest where his heart thudded so hard that it was in danger of cracking a rib.
“They hurt you so badly,” she whispered.
He was close to becoming unmanned. He would if he saw a single tear, but what he saw was far worse. Anger in her lovely green eyes. Perhaps even hatred. She pressed her lips tightly together, lowered her hand to just below his ribs. Her touch contained such tenderness that it made him want to weep, made him want to wrap his arm around her, draw her in against his good side, hold her near. Never let her go.
But he couldn’t risk even a moment of softness, couldn’t risk revealing a hint of weakness. He could not take what he could never keep. She was not his. It was a litany he’d repeated in his laudanum-induced haze when the pain kept him conscious. She was not his.
“You’re bleeding,” she said.
Tearing his gaze from her, he looked down and saw the bright red marring the bandage wrapped around his waist.
“He did this to you, didn’t he? Your uncle.”
“I do not think he would be this brazen.”
She lifted her gaze to his, held it, and for a heartbeat he was back at Pembrook, young and innocent, believing that the world would one day be handed to him on a silver platter. Life would be fox hunts and pheasant shooting. Not rifles aimed at men. Life would be riding horses for sport not survival. Pleasures would involve beautiful women who wanted to be with him, instead of women who gasped and feared approaching him, as though his scars were contagious, as though they would somehow find a way to make the ladies ugly as well.
He had kissed Mary in the darkness when all that he was had been hidden from her. Now the harsh sunlight was revealing the marbling of puckered flesh that marred so much of him. Yet she didn’t step back, she didn’t turn away. He wondered if he lowered his mouth to hers now without the kindness of shadows, if she would close her eyes on a sigh or grimace as the creature he was grew too near.
“What have we here?” Tristan asked, his deep voice breaking the spell, sending Sebastian’s thoughts careening back to the reality of where they were, what they were. “My brother with three lovely ladies in his bedchamber? I could very well become jealous.”
“We’re notinhis bedchamber,” Lady Alicia protested.
“Close enough, dear lady,” Tristan said as he strode into the room, his speculative gleam running over both Sebastian and Mary.
Mary stepped away, her hand leaving Sebastian’s skin, taking the warmth with her, sending a chill through him.
“Your brother is bleeding. If you’ll bring bandages, I’ll see to it.” Mary began tugging off her gloves and only then did Sebastian realize that she’d been wearing them the entire time. Her touch had been so gentle, so warm that he could have sworn it was skin upon skin.
“My valet can see to it,” Sebastian said. “Thomas, escort the ladies to their carriage.”
Mary spun around and glared at him. “I’m not leaving until I know what happened last night.”
Stubborn wench! “How did you even hear of it?” They hadn’t told anyone, had planned to keep it quiet. No sense in having rumors bandied about until they knew the truth of what had transpired.
“Unfortunately, it’s all over London,” Tristan said before Mary could answer. “That’s why I’m here. I thought you should know.”
“Yes, I heard of it at the dressmaker’s,” Mary confirmed.
“The dressmaker’s?” Sebastian repeated.
“Mary was being fitted for her wedding gown,” Lady Alicia explained.
He hadn’t been questioning why she was at the dressmaker’s, only that the gossip was being spouted in the corner of small shops. But now to know what she was doing, to be reminded that she would be married soon—
“We may have a problem there,” she said quietly.
“I should say,” her aunt suddenly announced. “Apparently you kissed her in the garden, Your Grace, and that bit of news shall no doubt be known throughout all of London by nightfall.”
