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Berrington seemed to reconsider for moment, before his face melted into determination as he grasped Lady Francesca’s arm tighter. Sebastian took a step forward, bracing for what was likely about to be a physical altercation, until a familiar voice interrupted them.
“James? What is going on?” Kitty Highbridge stood at the top of the stairs with wide eyes, looking about as lovely as she had two years prior, perhaps even more so now that her face wasn’t obscured by the darkness of a back garden. The memory of their shocking yet refreshing conversation was still fresh in his mind, along with the feel of those delectably soft lips pressing clumsily against his own, those generous breasts of hers pressing into his chest. She’d been adorable and invigorating all in one go and he’d had a hard time not pursuing more after she had blushingly wrenched away from him, the only thing stopping him being the obvious fact that she was a debutante fresh in her first season. He knew well that such ladies were breathing marital traps, whether they intended it or not. Pity he wasn’t in the market for a proper wife at the moment, for she would make for a fascinating courtship. Though, from the way her eyes narrowed on Berrington’s form, her heart appeared to be otherwise engaged. Sebastian had heard that the girl’s dowry was also substantial, meaning Berrington had likely been stringing both women along until he decided what was the better deal, which was not Miss Highbridge, apparently.
“Go back inside,” Berrington said. It didn’t skip Sebastian’s notice that the boy had been careful not to use Miss Highbridge’s name in front of Lady Francesca. What a spectacular cad.
“Really, Berrington?” he said, fighting a twitch in his eyebrow. “You could not even be bothered to ascertain whether or not both of your lady loves were attending the same event before publicly eloping with one?” He heard Miss Highbridge let out a shocked gasp as he continued to speak. “You are aware Miss Berrington is also present tonight, correct?”
Berrington audibly swallowed. “Sophie is here?”
“What is going on, James?” Francesca said, worry etched into her brow.
“We are betrothed,” Kitty bit back, the confidence he remembered her having seeming to return. “Why are you clinging to my fiancée?”
“There seems to have been a misunderstanding, Miss Highbridge,” Berrington replied sternly, rubbing a hand over Lady Francesca’s shoulder in a soothing motion.
Miss Highbridge’s mouth dropped, a trembling hand coming to rest on her chest. “Youwere the one who proposed.”
“She’s had her cap set for me from the moment we met,” Berrington said to Lady Francesca, ignoring his supposed intended almost entirely. “I’m afraid she must have spied us and come out here with the notion of causing a scene.”
“Oh, the poor dear,” she murmured, the little idiot falling for the ploy entirely.
This was turning into quite the spectacular mess, wasn’t it? Sebastian leveled his most ducal stare at the couple, pleased when Berrington flinched under his gaze. “I’ve had quite enough of this sordid scene. Unhand Lady Francesca and apologize to your intended, else I might have to call you out myself.”
“You,” Miss Highbridge breathed, staring at him in surprise even as tears rolled down her cheeks. The look didn’t suit her and put him far closer to losing his temper than he could account for.
“Hello again,” he replied, smiling through clenched teeth. Of everyone here, she deserved the least of his ire.
Unfortunately, Berrington utilized his momentary distraction and made a lunge with Lady Francesca to the waiting hackney. Before Sebastian could even think to follow, Miss Highbridge came barreling down the stairs like an angry, tearful hurricane, grasping Berrington’s sleeve as he stepped into the carriage. He wrenched his arm free, a taut mouth being the only traces of guilt on his countenance. Miss Highbridge flailed back from the force of it, falling off the step and smacking her back into the sidewalk. Her pained yelp as her head hit the payment snapped the last shred of patience Sebastian had left, and he lurched forward into the dark carriage, intent on yanking the insolent welp out by his perfectly coiffed black hair. In the dim light, he didn’t see Berrington’s fist raised at the ready until it connected with the side of his jaw. He let go of the door in surprise and barely landed on his feet as the carriage jerked forward in flight.
“Bloody hell,” he scowled, putting a hand to his aching cheek. There would be an impressive bruise there soon enough. He turned to Miss Highbridge, who was now wallowing in the lane, dirt marring the pretty emerald gown she wore. Her sobs were grating, as it appeared the woman was as much of an ugly crier as she was a laugher, but he was glad she appeared unharmed enough to make such a scene, even if seeing the perky girl in such a state unsettled him. “Hey,” he muttered, conjuring the gentlest voice his jaded person could muster as a crowd began to shuffle from the foyer and gather on the sidewalk. He grasped her arm and tried to haul her up before the Ton could have even more fodder to skewer her with, but she didn’t respond to his prompting. He spied Amberwood at the stairs, face thunderous, with Miss Berrington not far behind. Confident the woman could handle her friend far better than he, Sebastian gingerly released Miss Highbridge’s arm. She deflated like a sack into the sidewalk.
Amberwood!” he called, “He made off with her!”
