Page 83 of Scandal’s Daughter

Chapter 33

“Wherein the past catches up.”

Sebastian wasn’t sure if it was simply relief he felt as he saw Beau’s carriage and horses, loaded and ready for a long journey. That she really was here, and he’d found her in time was his first concern and the overwhelming relief that he could stop them marrying was beyond anything.

But Beau had betrayed him so utterly ...

Anger, cold and dark and ugly spread through his veins.

He reached down and grabbed hold of the coachman’s pistol, always kept close by in case of highwaymen. There was no need to check it was loaded and primed. His staff would never overlook such a consideration. The gun felt heavy and cold and reassuring in his grasp as he leapt down from the carriage and ran towards the doors of the glowering mansion.

It was strange to think, in all his years of friendship with Beau, he’d never been here before. He knew Beau hated the place, and in truth it surprised him he’d come here at all. It was only a gut feeling that made him think it likely. He could never be more thankful that he’d been right.

Slamming through the heavy oak doors of the entrance with a crash, he stilled and tightened his grip on the gun as Beau appeared, his hand wrapped around Georgiana’s wrist.

“Well, what a surprise,” his friend exclaimed, sounding jovial and relaxed, though there was a febrile glint in his eyes that betrayed him. “Have you come to felicitate us on our impending nuptials, Sindalton?”

“Let her go,” Sebastian shouted in fury, as he fully locked the hammer on the pistol and raised it, levelling it at his friend.

Beau dropped Georgiana’s hand but to his surprise she exclaimed and ran to stand in front of him.

“No! Sebastian, don’t! You’d never forgive yourself.” He watched in fury as Beau gave her a hard shove, sending her stumbling forward, almost losing her footing.

“Bastard!” he shouted, relieved to see Georgiana catch her balance but never taking his eyes off Beau as he stepped closer. His friend just laughed at him.

“I knew I shouldn’t have dallied,” he said, his eyes mocking. “But she was so very sweet, so very innocent ... I just had to have a taste ...”

He didn’t think about it, didn’t have time as rage, pure and cold and furious swept over him and his finger squeezed the trigger.

“No!” Georgiana screamed and the sound of the gun firing rang in his head.

It magnified in the cavernous space and echoed around the gloomy walls of the old house as the judging eyes of generations of Ware’s glared down at him.

He took a breath, aware that Georgiana had pushed him, but before or after he’d fired? Suddenly praying he’d missed he held his breath. But Beau staggered backwards and crumpled to the floor.

“No!” Georgiana screamed, running towards his fallen friend. “My God, Sebastian, what have you done?”

“He hurt you!” he raged, too frozen to take a step closer and see what exactly he had done.

“He didn’t!” she cried, falling beside Beau, her face white with horror. “He never touched me, Sebastian. He wanted to provoke you into killing him!”

“Oh God.”

Sebastian dropped the gun, numb with shock and abhorrence.

He’d relived the past, just as his mother had predicted. But his actions were worse than his father’s ... he’d killed an unarmed man, his closest friend, and now the scandal sheets would lay it all at Georgiana’s feet, just as they’d condemned her mother.

“He’s not dead!” Georgiana exclaimed. “But we need a doctor. He’s bleeding badly.”

They both looked up at a commotion at the front door as Falmouth, Lord Nibley and the most ill-assorted looking bunch of men Sebastian had ever laid eyes on filed into the hall.

“Damn it, Sindalton!” Falmouth said in disgust, striding over to inspect the bleeding figure on the floor. “What the devil have you done?” He turned to a giant of a man who looked just like an image of a cut-throat in a favourite book about pirates Sebastian had treasured as a boy. “Mousy, fetch the doctor,” he ordered. “Thank God we stopped to pick him up.”

Sebastian steeled himself and walked over to look down at Beau who was white faced, his breathing harsh.

“You always were a wretched shot, Sin,” he rasped and then bit his lip as Falmouth tore his shirt open. The wound was high in his shoulder and bleeding profusely.

“You bastard,” Sebastian said, his voice quiet. “How could you do it, Beau? You knew I loved her.”