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Chapter 20
Sebastian sat in the small chair in the kitchen, gutting the fish, while he would have preferred it was William under his knife instead. All he wanted to do was find a horse, chase down the bastard, and kill him.
Sebastian knew William very well. The selfish reprobate would do anything in his power to get what he wanted, which meant that he could have dragged Victoria to some member of the clergy and married her while Sebastian was still jostling in the carriage the night of the attack.
Sebastian imagined going back, stabbing the bastard in his gut, and watching him drown in his own blood with satisfaction.
He had to relax his hand, for he had been squeezing the knife so hard his knuckles grew white. Yes, the time would come when he came back and made Victoria a widow. Of course, that would set Victoria free to go back to the Russian Empire as her sister wanted. But Sebastian would figure it out later. At the moment, his main priority was keeping Victoria away from the criminal that was William.
How stupid was Sebastian not to have realized what was going on?
William had been ogling her every chance he had. Sebastian should have paid more attention to Victoria, he should have made time to speak to her more, and he shouldn’t have been too distracted by his own woes and selfish tendencies.
Clink.
His knife clattered to the floor, and Sebastian had to breathe in and out in order to calm himself. He needed to concentrate. There was nothing he could do about Victoria now. Not yet.
As much as he wanted to find a horse and gallop back to his country seat at the first opportunity, he couldn’t leave Lavinia alone. She had spent most of the day sleeping. She still felt groggy and disoriented.
The darkness had descended on them, and to top it all off, they were both hungry. They would have to stay the night at this strange place before they tried to find a way to return.
William didn’t know it, but snatching Lavinia had been a huge stroke of luck for him. Because it was the only thing holding Sebastian back. Without her, he’d be long on his way to gut the bastard.
“Do you need any help?” Lavinia showed up behind him.
“Do you know how to clean or fry the fish?” Sebastian asked without looking at her.
She heaved a sigh and settled in the chair next to him. “No.”
One side of Sebastian’s mouth kicked up in a smile. Of course, she didn’t. She was a lady. “Then I don’t think you can help me.”
“How do you know how to do this?” She peered into his face, but Sebastian avoided looking at her. Instead, he concentrated on the fish.
“I was taught anatomy extensively. In fact, I was part ofL’Académie des Sciences. That teaches one a lot about how to gut an animal… almost any animal.” He finally looked at her and almost laughed at her aghast expression.
Almost. Because he became instantly mesmerized by her instead.
Lavinia had let down her hair, probably because her coiffure was out of place, and he doubted she had a comb with her to put it back to rights. Her hair fell in long waves down her shoulders, framing her face in golden brown locks. Her face was illuminated by the fire, reminding him once again of a beautiful angel. And then, whether it was from hunger or just the effect she’d had on him, he had an inexplicable urge to bite her apple cheeks.
He snorted to himself and forced his eyes back to the fish.
“Did they teach you to cook any animal, too?” she asked.
“Well, no. One of my mother’s friends—lovers—taught me to hunt, which I am terrible at. But he also taught me to cook what I’ve killed. We’d spend days out in the woods on hunting expeditions. He was a soldier, and cooking what one caught is something that is looked at as being very valuable. When our countries are in constant wars, one has to be able to feed oneself and his comrades.”
“Mm, well, in this case, I am very glad to be your comrade, as I am starving.”
“You won’t have to wait long.” Sebastian took two rapiers, poked them through the fish, and held them over the fire.
“My lord—”
Sebastian let out a bitter chuckle. “Ma petite… I think we’ve gone through enough for you to be able to dispense with the formality. Please, call me Sebastian.”
There was a beat of silence. “I couldn’t.”
“Of course, you could. I do not feel like a lord at the moment, and truly, I never liked this title. My friends call me by my name, and I think you should, too.”
“Sebastian,” she said softly, and everything inside him tightened.
