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Chapter 31
The flower in your bed is deadly. She murdered her father.
Sebastian reread the note a few times, wondering if he’d read it correctly.
He’d woken up a few minutes ago, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. He had spoken to Victoria briefly. She had cried and begged for forgiveness in his arms, and then his secretary came by, forcing Sebastian to remember that he’d neglected some burning issues of his marquessate.
Victoria had left his side, leaving him to deal with his duties before he got too tired.
Sebastian’s wound was not festering. It was healing nicely. Even so, he was still weak, and he would be for a few more days. But he was lucid, and he was in full possession of his mental faculties. Or at least he thought so until he decided to go through the correspondence and stumbled upon this cryptic note, signed with an indecipherable hand.
As a gambling man, if he had to put his money on a person to whom this note had alluded, he’d place all his bets on Lavinia. She was the only lady who could be found in his bed lately, and he hoped for the rest of his life.
But the note and its contents could not go uninvestigated.
Lavinia was in trouble.
What should have disturbed him most was the idea that Lavinia could kill anyone, especially her sire. But that wasn’t the part that stung. What disturbed Sebastian was that she hadn’t confided in him.
He remembered her reluctance to commit to marrying him, he remembered every conversation with her insisting that she’d be a burden, that he didn’t know the full truth. Well, he hoped this was what she alluded to. He hoped that this—the fact that she was in trouble—was the reason for her reluctance. Becausethishe could deal with.
The only thing they wouldn’t get through was if she didn’t love him back. Everything else was a hurdle they could hop over together.
Besides, he’d seen the burns and cuts on her body. He’s seen her jump in fright at every little noise. Add to that the bits and pieces he’d managed to draw out of her, and he’d come to the conclusion that her father had been abusive.
He knew she didn’t take murder lightly, even during a duel. So the conclusion was simple.IfLavinia had killed her father, it must have been in self-defense.
Lavinia did not have an easy life. And Sebastian was prepared to go through hellfire to ensure the rest of her life was nothing like her past.
He wasn’t about to take the note as gospel. But it was obvious that Lavinia was hiding something.
The housekeeper entered his room with his supper and placed it on his bedside table. “Do you need anything else, my lord?”
Sebastian nodded. “Can you please ask Lady Lavinia to come see me?”
The housekeeper pursed her lips and nodded. She wore a grimace of disapproval on her face.
It was obvious the older woman had heard all about the fact that Lavinia had spent most of the day in this room. She’d seen him kissing Lavinia upon returning from the duel, too, and she definitely disapproved.
But the Roth household was very loyal to their masters. No gossip left the walls of this house, and for that, he was thankful. As much as Sebastian didn’t care if his house party guests got wind of this information and ran with it—he was going to marry Lavinia either way—he didn’t want her to feel self-conscious about it.
Just then, Lavinia entered his room.
She still wore one of her worn, discolored gowns. Her hair was collected on top of her head in a heap of curls.
She paused at the door for a moment and then rushed toward him.
Sebastian smiled as she fell into his arms and kissed him soundly.
“Ow!” Sebastian hissed when she accidentally hit his injured shoulder.
“Oh, I am so sorry. Did I hurt you?”
Sebastian forced a smile through a grimace. “It was worth it.”
Lavinia sat up but didn’t leave his bed. She arranged her skirts around her, then looked at the bedside table. “You haven’t dined yet. Do you want me to help you?”
“No.” He took her hand in his. “I just wanted to sit with you for a while. Maybe experience your kiss again.”
