Page 26 of Sinfully Daring

“Tais toi!” he hissed as misery hit him in a wave.

Barnaby stiffened and Louis cursed himself and all the vileness that came with him. Barnaby’s French was limited but Louis had been helping him, and he knew what shut up sounded like.

“Not you, Barnaby,” he said, knowing he must sound utterly unhinged.

He had to see Evie. This only confirmed his suspicions that the past was coming for him. It was not possible, and yet Louis knew with a sickening sense of certainty that it was true. They must be married before everything went to hell or he would lose her, and lose himself, and any hope of happiness. He would not allow his life to be ruined yet again. No one would take this astonishing chance he had been given away from him. He tugged the drawer in his desk open, unlocking the small box inside and taking out the lock picks. Tucking them away in a pocket, he slammed the box shut and headed for the door.

“Louis!” Barnaby called after him, but Louis ignored him.

Barnaby would have him wait, be sensible, behave like a gentleman, but he could not wait any longer. If he were a different man, he would give Evie the time he had promised her, he would prove himself to her parents and marry her with their blessing. But he was Louis César de Montluc, God help him, and he could not change that. He would be whatever Evie wanted him to be once they were married, he would have the rest of his life to prove to her parents that he was what she needed, that he could make her happy, but there was no more time.

3rd July 1842, Lansdown Place, Sloane Square, Chelsea, London.

Sebastian stirred, aware of a gentle hand stroking his hair. He sighed, knowing it must be a dream. No woman ever touched him that way. Adelia despised him and, though his dealings with the courtesans at the Orchid House were mutually acceptable, he never asked them for false displays of affection. It would have given him the guilty feeling that he was demanding too much of them in the circumstances, though he longed for comfort of a kind he could not find in an emotionless joining of bodies. Rosamund’s face drifted into his mind and, drunk as he was, he forced it away. He must protect her. His brandy-soaked brain might be full of fog, but that much he remembered.

He blinked, suddenly aware the hand was still playing with his hair. This time, it gave a sharp little tug.

Sebastian jerked awake.

Adelia stood looking down at him, wearing a black silk negligee that clung to her lovely figure. Grimacing, he rubbed a hand over his face. This was the last thing he needed right now. He was under no illusion that she had come to his rooms to give herself to him. Oh, no. He had made that mistake in those early days, believing she had come to make up with him, allowing her back into his heart, to arouse him and get his hopes of a reconciliation bursting back to life, only to find her slamming the door in his face a moment later. He would not be her plaything. Never again would she toy with his emotions. But she knew that, and he admitted it surprised him she had come. It had been many years since she had tried this tactic.

“What do you want?” he demanded, hearing the slur in his words.

“From you?” she asked with a brittle laugh. “Whyever should I want anything from you?”

“I have no idea. Now we’ve established that, get out of my room.” He watched her, wary as hell. Sebastian didn’t trust her an inch and, if she was here, it was to make trouble and for no other reason.

“Not yet. I want to know why I heard the servants talking about packing. You’re not thinking of going somewhere without telling me?” Her eyes glittered as she bent down, one hand on each arm of the chair, giving him an eyeful of her breasts encased in the scandalous black silk. She pouted and put on a babying voice. “Running away with your tail between your legs like a little puppy dog, are you?”

“Go to hell, Adelia,” he growled, his temper rising.

“I mean it, Hargreaves,” she said, her voice hard. “Where are you going?”

“Away from you,” he said, cursing himself the moment the words left his mouth.

He needed to stay calm. The only way to deal with her was to stay calm, but the brandy was like a fire in his blood, burning away the restraints that kept his anger tethered down.

“Where are you going?”

He recognised the edge to the words, the razor-sharp glint to her features that boded ill. She was going to goad him until he exploded and said things he ought not say.

With a Herculean effort, he tamped down his anger. “Just away for a little while,” he said, doing his utmost to sound reasonable. “I’m going to visit some old friends.”

“Where?” she asked, daring him to contradict what she obviously already knew. Damn and blast his gossipy bloody servants. One night. They had to keep it to themselves for one bloody night.

“France,” he said, his tone curt.

Adelia let out a breath of laughter and crossed her arms. “My God,” she sneered, shaking her head at him. “You’re taking yourself away from temptation.”

Sebastian felt a muscle ticking in his jaw but only clenched it harder, determined not to rise to the bait.

“Do you fancy yourself in love with your sweet little debutante, Hargreaves? Is that it? Is that why you’re drinking all by yourself, poor baby, because you’re going to be honourable and good, because that’s what you do, isn’t it? You make yourself miserable doing the right thing and blame everyone else for it.”

He surged to his feet, incandescent with rage. “And what the hell else am I to do, Adelia? What choice do I have—have I ever had? I am chained to you like you’re a goddamned anchor, dragging me down. You don’t want me, but you don’t want anyone else to have me either! For Christ’s sake, just let me go away. You can live as you want, do exactly as you please, and never hear a word about it from me. Just let me go!” he bellowed this last, too desperate to leave to hold on to his temper any longer.

“No!” she shouted back at him.

Sebastian roared with frustration. Grasping hold of her arm, he marched her to the door and opened it, pushing her out into the corridor. “I’m leaving, Adelia, and you can’t stop me.”