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Venetia watched her step back and instruct a change of position for the floral arrangement before she returned to the painful subject of Sebastian and Miss Reeves.
Venetia would rather not hear it, but she was trapped.
“Both the young people’s fathers will be in attendance, which was not at all expected. And Mr Reeves is bringing along Lord Yarrowby, who will no doubt try and pressure Arabella into a marriage she does not desire.”
A sudden surge of hope made Venetia stiffen into awareness. Could Lord Yarrowby be the father of Miss Reeves’s child? They had, after all, been on the verge of announcing their betrothal four months earlier, she’d heard.
Perhaps Venetia was leaping to conclusions before she had given Sebastian the benefit of the doubt. After all, she hadn’t given him a proper opportunity to defend himself against the charges.
It was one thing to have become romantically entangled four months ago...and quite another if, in fact, [BH5] that entanglement went no further than kisses and hand-holding.
Slipping the book back into the bookshelf as her hostesses moved to the far end of the room to discuss further decorations, Venetia made her escape without the ladies even knowing she’d been there.
Well, she would not always be so insignificant, she decided with energy.
She wasn’t always going to be Lady Indigo’s unpaid servant. No, she was going to clear this matter up so that she could be what she had been destined to be since Sebastian had returned from his Grand Tour and fallen in love with Venetia. She was going to be his wife.
Sebastian surely could not be the father of Miss Reeves’s child. And he was not the kind of man who would abrogate his duty and sacrifice honor under any circumstances.
Even to marry the woman he loved.
There must be some logical explanation which Venetia had missed, coming into the drawing room halfway through her hostess’s conversation the night before.
As she turned into the corridor that led toward the billiards room where she had some hope of finding him, her palms were damp with the nervousness of what her direct questioning would uncover.
She didn’t expect to come upon him so soon. He was standing at the far end of the corridor, almost obscured by the gloom, but she had no trouble recognizing his tall, handsome physique, and she was nearly overcome by the familiar rush of excitement she always felt to see him.
She was about to call out when she saw Miss Reeves was talking to him, for she’d been half hidden by the connecting corridor.
Then Miss Reeves threw her arms about her Sebastian’s neck, as if in entreaty, before he disengaged them and put her away from him.
It was clear he was trying to let her down gently, and while Venetia should have felt sorry for the girl, she could only feel relief that Sebastian had remained true to his heart.
Now Venetia just had to satisfy herself that that did not entail compromising his integrity.
Chapter 12
“Sebastian!”
When Sebastian heard Venetia hail him from the end of the corridor, it was as if a ray of pure joy had speared him right through the heart. He’d hardly slept for fear at what a dim view she’d taken of his relations with Barbara Compton and had in fact been up since dawn due to the possibility that his attempts to stymie Lady Indigo’s dawn departure had failed.
“You didn’t leave with Lady Indigo after all?” He gripped her hands, relieved she didn’t pull them away. “I was so hoping that the maid would take to heart my judicious suggestion that the old dear might have a better night’s sleep with a mild sleeping posset, as suggested by...well, I couldn’t remember if it was Lady Fenton or Lady Quamby.” He grinned at Venetia, hoping that another assertion of his desire for her company would go some way toward dispelling her apparent displeasure with him.
Instead, she merely smiled, disregarding his remark to say, “It’s very gloomy in here, but did I see you talking to someone just now?”
And, because he knew that Venetia was filled with enough doubt and mistrust over his relationship with Mrs Compton, he thought it best not to mention that he’d just been in company with Miss Reeves.
Not when that young lady had thrown her arms about Sebastian’s neck as she’d entreated Sebastian speak to her father on her behalf with regard to her ridiculous notion that Signor Boticelli would make her a better husband than Yarrowby.
So, he sidestepped the question, saying smoothly as he ran the tip of his forefinger gently over the shadows beneath Venetia’s normally bright eyes, “I think you should have had some of Lady Indigo’s posset, my darling. You look positively overwrought.”
Lord, but he knew he would have to face up to her questioning.
He glanced the length of the corridor. A couple of housemaids had just disappeared around the corner. They were in a musty, gloomy part of the house. Unlikely to be disturbed or observed, at any rate. Best get the interrogation over and done with, sooner the better, he thought, so th
ey could dance the night away and announce their betrothal in front of all.
Now that Lady Indigo was remaining, Venetia would have to be allowed to attend tonight’s Christmas Ball.
