Page 84 of The Earl’s Forbidden Temptation

“Have my carriage prepared,” Sebastian said. “I depart within the hour.”

“At once, my lord.”

The butler withdrew swiftly.

“Is something wrong?” Darcy asked, alarm threading through her voice. “Shall we prepare to travel as well?”

“No.” The word emerged more sharply than he intended. “My mother is unwell, and I must determine the cause. You and the girls are to remain here.”

Darcy stared at him, searching his face. “But⁠—”

“I will send word,” he interrupted. “Remain at Raine Manor until you hear from me.”

The distance in his voice was unmistakable, a barrier raised so swiftly that Darcy evidently had no chance to understand it. There was no time to explain what he feared or consider what he might be leaving behind.

Still, Sebastian crossed to her, cupped her cheek, and pressed a lingering kiss to the corner of her mouth. Darcy softened into his touch, and some of the tension knotted within him eased.

“I will return as soon as I can.”

He turned and strode from the study, issuing orders.

“Inform the staff that I am not to be delayed. Send word to London that my physician is to attend my mother the moment she arrives at Grosvenor Square.”

His voice carried down the corridor, sharp with command, and the household moved at once to obey. Once the troubles awaiting him in London were settled, once he had assured himself that his mother and Caroline were well, he would return to Darcy. He wanted to understand more of the dreams she held for her future, the ambitions she had spoken of with such quiet determination, and perhaps discover where he might fit within them.

They could remain friends. Perhaps even lovers, if that was what they both desired. He did not yet know what shape their relationship might take, only that he wanted it to continue.

Darcy had become important to him. And unless he had grievously misread everything that had passed between them, he mattered to her as well.

Whatever this thing between them was, Sebastian was not ready for it to end.

Not yet.

Sebastian arrived in London beneath a sky heavy with the remnants of rain, the long journey having done nothing to ease the unease lodged within him. By the time his carriage halted before his townhouse, he had braced himself for whatever waited inside. He entered swiftly, surrendered his coat and hat to a footman, and swept the entrance hall with a searching gaze.

“Where is my mother?” he demanded. “Is she well?”

“Her ladyship is well, my lord,” the butler replied, though the gravity in his eyes contradicted the reassurance.

“Where—”

“Sebastian!” Caroline’s voice broke through his question as she hurried down the corridor and threw herself into his arms.

He caught her instinctively, holding her close for a brief moment before drawing back to study her face.

“You have returned,” she said, relief evident in every line of her expression.

“As soon as I got your letter, I departed. Where is Mother?” he pressed. “What has happened?”

“The physician attended her yesterday,” Caroline said, falling into step beside him. “He prescribed rest and insists she must not be agitated. He said she should never have undertaken the journey against Dr. Gallimore’s advice, given the palpitations she suffered in Bath.”

Sebastian frowned slightly at that. “And yet she traveled.”

“She would not be dissuaded,” Caroline admitted.

They turned toward the Rose Room, the most intimate of the sitting rooms. Sebastian was preparing himself for the conversation ahead when movement upon the staircase drew his attention.

His mother descended slowly. She was, as ever, impeccably presented, her gown arranged with care and her bearing still possessing the quiet elegance that had always commanded attention. Yet her complexion was pallid, and her eyes held a listlessness that unsettled him more than any visible weakness could have done.