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She melted back into the room and softly closed the door. He slammed his fist into the wall, rattling dust from the ceiling. The hurt burgeoning against his knuckles centered him. Seb leaned against the wall, for God knows how long, unable to take himself downstairs to find the serving woman. Blowing out a harsh breath, he went back inside the room, shrugged from his jacket, removed his boots, and slid into the bed.
Her uneven breathing suggested she was firmly awake.
“That was quick,” she murmured. “Should I have wagered on your prowess I—”
“So help me—” he began to snarl only to stop at the sound of her muffled giggling. How young and sweet she sounded.
“I only tease you, Your Grace.”
“I am not a man to be teased.”
“Never?”
“Never,” he said flatly.
“Without laughter life has little to no color. I shall be teasing you often, Your Grace.”
That soft promised filled him with something warm and unknown instead of irritation. Instead of answering he remained silent. A rustle sounded, the bed dipped, and she shifted closer. Still far away where he would need to reach an arm’s length to touch her.
“I cannot imagine at your worry for your sister, and I do not wish to offer empty platitudes and assurances that I cannot guarantee. Please know that I am here should you need a listening ear.”
The offer made in that soft voice rocked him. It was the last thing he had expected of her. He turned over Theo’s suggestion in his mind, and the way she had said it—only compassion radiated from her tone. As a wealthy duke on the matrimonial market, Seb was long accustomed to ladies employing various wiles designed to ensnare him. Whether it be to become his mistress or his duchess, many had made credible efforts that had grown tiresome even as he vaguely admired their gumption.
Theodosia would not be his bed partner, but his friend.
Sebastian’s heart stumbled in his chest. He wasn’t sure what the feelings were that expanded through his body. They felt heated and pleasant, beating back some of the doubt and fear.
“I also want to assure you that though Perdie is young, she is not impressionable.”
A harsh twist went through his heart. “Is that so?
“Yes.”
“Eight weeks ago, my sister was blissfully happy and all she spoke about was getting married. Then she started to visit your 48 Berkeley Square. Do I need to continue?”
“I daresay she wasn’t blissfully happy, and merely hid it from you.”
It leaped inside his chest and clawed at him—guilt and that feeling of helplessness that infuriated him beyond measure. “Fuck!”
He was a man of action and reason. The only thing he needed was a solid plan to find his sister, and then deal with the consequences of her action when found. Not to be wallowing in this empty, fucking, useless sensation.
“It would help if you should talk about it,” she said softly.
“Talking is not what I want to be doing now.”
The raggedness of her breathing suggested she knew exactly what he referred.Your move, Theodosia.
Seb smiled when she scoffed and turned her back to him, and muttered, “Good night, Your Grace.”
“Good night, Theodosia.”
A few beats later, she said, “I do not enjoy travelling for hours in the carriage with little company to keep but my own. I would like a horse ready for me to ride alongside you. I am sure I will find your company congenial. We are partners in finding Perdie, despite your belief that you’ve coerced me to tag along with you.”
Chapter Ten
The very next morning, Theo made her way outside to the inn’s forecourt, inhaling the crisp spring morning air into her lungs. The duke waited with a handsome chestnut horse, the reins dangling loosely in one of his hands. His earlier uncompromising features were tranquil, his powerful body relaxed atop his stallion, his beautiful blue eyes intent on her. Her mouth dried when his gaze slightly flared, his gloved fingers clenching reflexively on the reins upon noting her riding habit.
He swept off his hat and made his bow to her. “It is a fine morning, Theodosia.”
