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Fenton, who’d appeared to be deeply engrossed in his book, looked up to ask, “Surely Sebastian is a fine match for Arabella? Why should Arabella’s father not approve when our esteemed Sebastian is in line for a viscountcy?”
“Because Arabella’s father is highly ambitious and wishes his daughter to marry Lord Yarrowby, who is in line for an earldom.”
“And whom she’
s been going to marry for years, apparently,” said Quamby. “They grew up together.”
“But Arabella declared Lord Yarrowby as dull as dishwater when she changed her mind about marrying him four months ago.” Fanny felt the heat around her collar. She knew what it was to be forced to marry a gentleman of one’s parent’s choosing. Not too many years had passed since Fanny’s own ambitious mama had arranged a match for Fanny with Lord Slyther on account of his pocketbook and willingness to look past the fact she came with no dowry. She shuddered at the memory, even now. Lord Slyther had been so odious, she’d rather have thrown herself into the Thames wearing an iron chastity belt.
Instead, she’d released the chastity belt, taken the greatest chance of her life—and thrown herself into Fenton’s bed.
With glorious success.
“Well, it’s all settled then.” Sounding satisfied, Antoinette rose, brushing down her skirts while the rest of them looked up in surprise.
“What’s settled?” Fanny asked.
“Why, the outcome of the Christmas Ball.” Antoinette smiled. “I predict that as midnight chimes, we’ll all be clinking glasses in celebration of Miss Arabella Reeves’s and Mr Sebastian Wells’s impending marriage.”
Chapter 8
Venetia gripped the cold iron door handle of the castle folly as she persuaded herself she had no reason to hesitate.
Sebastian had made it abundantly clear he still felt for her as he had before. And that was all that mattered.
She supposed he had no idea of the extent to which his father had opposed his proposed match with Venetia.
But that was in the past. Sebastian had done the old man’s bidding. He’d married Dorothea and provided the son and heir so desperately desired.
Now Dorothea was dead, and Sebastian still loved Venetia—and wasn’t that all that mattered?
If the flame that burned between them was still alight in Venetia’s heart, old Mr Wells could no longer prevent them from being together.
She gripped the door handle tighter, yet still she hesitated.
She’d never told Sebastian what his father had said to her all those years before: that a match between his son and Dorothea was the price to be paid if the estate were to remain in the family’s hands. It wasn’t just that the union between the children of two old friends and neighbors would ensure peace and prosperity long into the future. Old Mr Wells was deeply indebted to Dorothea’s father.
He’d told Venetia that if his son were to be swayed by his feelings for Venetia, then they were all doomed.
Venetia drew in a deep breath. Glancing out at the partly frozen lake, frost glittering on the bulrushes beneath a weak sun, a bird warbled a tune.
And suddenly, Venetia was overcome by a wave of the most profound joy.
Sebastian had done his father’s bidding, and now he was free to follow his heart.
Yes, Sebastian had a son and heir. He had discharged his duty toward the family line. Toward his father. The debt to Dorothea’s father had been discharged.
Venetia and Sebastian were free to follow their feelings.
And now Sebastian was here.
Waiting for her. Nothing now prevented them being together. Not even past entanglements, for as long as Sebastian loved Venetia above all other women, that was good enough for her.
“Venetia!” The door opened suddenly from the inside and there was Sebastian looking down at her. “Thank heavens you came, after all! I wasn’t sure if you’d get cold feet.” There was nothing awkward or diffident about him as he seized her wrist and drew her inside, locking the door, then embracing her before lowering them both onto the sofa by the fireplace, Venetia across his lap.
The room was small but lofty with a desk by the window and, through the doorway that opened into the next room, a large, commodiously cushioned bed dominated the room.
"For a second, I nearly did, Sebastian. I feel...so different from the girl you once knew.”
