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“How very clever.”

“Clever?” One eyebrow arched in silent inquiry at her choice of adjectives. “I thought it was very simple and straightforward.”

“But if I keep the money, you’ll lose Crawford Hall. Then where would we live?” Laura challenged.

“I have a small flat in London.”

She shook her head. “That wouldn’t do at all. I’d want to live in something big and grand . . .” The pause was deliberate. “Something like Crawford Hall. And if I’m buying a large estate, why not the family manor? It would be logical to own the place that goes with title. And you’re counting on that, aren’t you?”

There was a flicker of annoyance in his expression. “Clearly your mind is much more devious than mine.” His mouth had a slightly grim set to it that seemed to match the new, cool amusement in his eyes. “Enjoy the portrait, Laura. At least I’ll have the consolation of knowing that every time you look at it, you’ll think of me and wonder.”

He made a leisurely turn and walked out of the room, pulling the door closed behind him. Laura stood there, certain she hadn’t been wrong in her assessment. His leaving was merely an attempt to plant some doubt in her mind. And yet . . .

She looked at the painting and wondered.

Chapter Sixteen

The first rays of sunrise poured through the bedroom window. Conscious of the glare of it against his eyelids, Sebastian turned over and punched the pillow under him, bolstering its thickness. The muffled sound of footsteps came from the hallway, signaling he wasn’t the only one in this house of early risers who was awake. For a moment he lay there, listening to the quick tattoo of the footsteps descending the stairs.

Giving up any thought that he might go back to sleep, he threw back the covers and rolled out of bed. After a quick trip to the bathroom, he padded over to the closet, briefly surveyed the clothes on hangers, and picked up the suitcase on the closet floor. He placed it on the bed and flipped it open, then walked to the chest of drawers.

More footsteps moved along the hall and stopped at his door. A knuckle rapped twice against it, and the latch clicked as the door swung open.

Trey poked his head into the room. “I thought I heard you moving around in here. We’re moving cattle this morning. I thought I’d see if you wanted to—” He broke off in mid-sentence the instant he noticed the suitcase lying open on the bed. “You aren’t thinking of leaving just when things are about to heat up, are you?” There was something of a challenge in his question.

Sebastian paused, sending him a curious look. “I beg your pardon.”

“We’re going to have company tonight,” Trey told him. “Crockett’s flying in. I have the feeling a little blackbird called Tara might have told him you were here.”

“In that case, it might be better for all concerned if I leave.”

“It might.” Trey stepped into the room and leaned his tall shape against the doorframe, loosely folding his arms in front of him. “Personally, though, I’m hoping he’ll screw up. That isn’t likely to happen if you’re gone.”

“Are you hoping we’ll get into a physical fight over your sister’s hand?” Sebastian mocked lightly.

“Knowing Laura, she’d like that. No, it’ll be enough if you just get under his skin.” Trey pushed away from the door and walked to the bed. “If he’s the bastard I think he is, he’ll take care of the rest himself. It’s for sure you won’t be needing this.” He closed the suitcase, checked to make sure it was securely latched, and carried it to the closet. After a scan of the clothes hanging up, he turned. “If you’re going with me, you’d better put on those jeans you wore yesterday. If you wear any of those,” he jerked a thumb in the direction of the closet, “you’re likely to scare the cattle.”

“You are making the assumption that I’m staying,” Sebastian observed dryly.

Trey paused with one hand on the doorknob. There was something about the calm steadiness of his gaze that reminded Sebastian of the elder Calder. “Aren’t you?”

The lazy challenge made Sebastian smile. “It would seem so.” He pushed the drawer shut and walked over to retrieve the Levis.

“We’ll pull out as soon as you come down,” Trey informed him. “I’ve got a thermos of coffee in the truck, and I’ll have Allie throw a breakfast sandwich together for you.”

Sebastian spared a glance at the dawn blush outside his window. “Tell me, is it tradition that a cowboy must be in the saddle before the sun is up.”

“You could call it that, I suppose,” Trey again. “But for something to become a tradition out here, there’s always a good reason for it. In this case, when you’re moving a herd of cows from one pasture to another, it’s easier to make the gather early, before the calves nurse and cows scatter to graze. This way you have a better chance of arriving with your herd intact. See you downstairs.” With that he exited the room, leaving Sebastian to dress.

Laura didn’t get out of bed until nearly eleven o’clock. It was closer to eleven-thirty when she came downstairs. After a cup of coffee and a slice of toast, she placed a call to Boone, only to be informed by the Mexican housekeeper that neither Senor Max nor Senor Boone was in.

With Sebastian off somewhere with Trey, Laura opted to visit her Aunt Cat Echohawk rather than while away the afternoon at The Homestead by herself. Between catching up on the latest news about Quint and discussing possible wedding plans, it was four o’clock before she set off to make the hour-long drive back to the Triple C.

When she pulled into the ranch yard, Laura spotted Sebastian and Trey walking up the incline to The Homestead. She honked the horn as she drove by them, then parked near the base of the veranda steps and climbed out to wait for them. A smile curved her mouth when she noticed both the telltale red of a sunburn and the stiff way Sebastian was walking.

“You seem to be moving a little gingerly, Sebastian. Have a few sore muscles, do you?” Laura teased.

“More than a few, I suspect,” he admitted with an airy honesty. “This is the first time I have spent an entire day astride a horse.”

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