That was such an outlandish fairy tale, so far beyond Wesley’s wildest dreams, that the thought hadn’t ever occurred to him. Life was unfair; people were unbearable; Wesley was unlovable. These were simply facts.
He stared unseeing into the dark, feeling the soft rise and fall of Sebastian’s breath beneath him, hearing that heart beat steady and strong.
Facts.
Chapter Twelve
Wesley’s driver, Marcus, arrived the next morning during breakfast, and he’d brought Wesley’s tailor and his assistant. Sebastian still had a coffee cup in hand as he found himself steered back upstairs by Wesley.
“Mr. Lloyd has been advised you’re the son of a Spanish count,” Wesley said. “I think he’s quite looking forward to outfitting you for tonight’s ball.”
“That makes one of us,” Sebastian muttered.
“Behave,” Wesley said, prodding him in the small of his back. “And you know, I rather like this cover story, actually.”
Oh no. How long was Sebastian going to get stuck with this act? “What was wrong with telling people I was your business associate?”
“You’re too bloody gorgeous for it,” Wesley said bluntly. “You saw how Langford didn’t believe it for a second. A count’s son, though? People will be delighted to believe such a handsome man is an international aristocrat.”
Sebastian rolled his eyes.
“Mind your manners,” Wesley said. “Get into character now. Have you ever seen me roll my eyes?”
“Yes,” Sebastian said. “You do it all the time.”
“Lies and slander,” Wesley said, but he had a small smile. “I am aware you’d rather be on a beach, surrounded by twenty cats. But for tonight, play the part.”
Sebastian sighed. “Iamglad I get to go with you,” he admitted. After the strangeness of Lady Nora and Dr. Wright on the ship, he wouldn’t have wanted Wesley to be at this ball alone. “And it will be nice to see you in your element.”
“No it won’t,” Wesley said bluntly. “You’re going to see me being an absolute arsehole. I despise parties and can’t stand any of the people we’re seeing tonight. I would far rather be with you on your beach, cats be damned. But someone very wise once taught me that even when life is shit, there are thingsinlife that make it worth it.”
Sebastian grudgingly smiled.
“And so I will at least enjoy the sight of you in your tailcoat,” Wesley said, “even if it does make you pout.” His smile turned slightly sly. “Perhapsespeciallybecause it makes you pout.”
“Did you decide to start being an asshole early?” Sebastian said dryly, which drew a soft laugh from Wesley.
They found Mr. Lloyd in one of the unused rooms, a white man of perhaps sixty who was about Sebastian’s height and dressed in an impeccable gray suit with a blue tie. He was adjusting a full-length mirror, but turned as they entered. “Lord Fine. You’re looking very well, sir.” His gaze went to Sebastian. “Don Sebastian, I presume?”
Sebastian tried to smile.
The assistant, a blond man in his thirties, was unpacking a briefcase onto a table, a tape measure in hishand. Mr. Lloyd was subtly studying Sebastian, who tried not to squirm.
“What do you think?” Wesley said to Mr. Lloyd. “You can’t imagine Don Sebastian’s panic, being stranded in England with no tailcoat for tonight,” and Sebastian managed not to roll his eyes again, but it was a close call. “Do you have something that will work for him?”
Mr. Lloyd nodded once, the gesture as crisp as his collar. “Your eyesight is as enviable as ever, my lord, and your description exceedingly accurate. I’ve brought a handful of options for Don Sebastian to try on, and we should be able to complete any necessary alterations by this afternoon.”
There was a sudden knock on the door, then Arthur poked his head in. “Apologies, but I need to borrow the Viscount Fine rather urgently.”
Wesley’s eyebrow went up. “Excuse me.”
They disappeared out the door, and Sebastian’s gaze stole after them. Had Arthur finally heard from Jade or Gwen?
He tried not to fidget through several long minutes of being helped into various dress coats and having his measurements taken. “I do appreciate your time,” he said to Mr. Lloyd, as the man adjusted his arm.
“It’s my pleasure to assist.” Mr. Lloyd made a small mark on the tape measure with chalk. “Our shop has served three generations of Viscounts Fine. Any friend of Lord Fine’s is a welcome client.”
Three generations.My world is the world of traditions, Wesley had said. A world of titles and rules. Sebastian did come from a wilder world, where magic trumped rules and danger lurked everywhere. Now,though, the danger to Sebastian’s world might come from Wesley’s world. And Sebastian would have to face it without magic.
