Chapter Twenty-three
Let‘s see, Lady Louisa, which scene have you chosen?" Sebastian grinned as he reached Sainsbury , which had fallen to the carpet after Annabel knocked it from his hands. What fun that he should be doing a recitation from his own work. A bit absurd that he should be playing Miss Sainsbury, but he had enough confidence in his manhood that he felt he could carry it off with aplomb.
Besides, he was rather good at this sort of thing, if he did say so himself. Never mind that the last time he‘d read for an audience he‘d fallen off a table and dislocated his shoulder. He didn‘t regret it in the least. He‘d had the housemaids in tears. Tears!
It had been a beautiful moment.
He scooped up the book, straightening to hand it back to Louisa so that she could find her place again, but when he caught her worried expression, he paused. Then he turned, following her gaze.
Annabel was standing near the doorway. So was his uncle.
―I hate him," Louisa whispered vehemently.
―I‘m not terribly fond of him myself."
Louisa grabbed his arm with a force he would not have imagined she possessed, and when he turned to face her, he was startled by the ferocity in her eyes. She was such a colorless thing, and yet at that moment, she was positively ablaze.
―You cannot let her marry him," she said.
Sebastian turned back toward the door, his eyes narrowing. ―I don‘t intend to."
He waited, though, to see if the situation would right itself. For Annabel‘s sake, he did not wish to cause a scene. He was well aware that Lady Challis had planned the house party with the Grey-Winslow-Newbury love triangle as the main source of entertainment. Anything that even hinted of scandal would be on every London gossip‘s tongue within days. Unsurprisingly, every eye in the room was set firmly on Annabel and Lord Newbury.
When they weren‘t stealing glances at Sebastian.
Truly, he‘d had every intention of staying put. But when his uncle began to shake and seethe, his skin mottling with fury as he hissed something at Annabel, Sebastian could not stand by.
―Is there a problem?" he asked in a cool, smooth voice, coming to stand slightly behind and to the side of Annabel.
―This is none of your concern," his uncle spat.
―I beg to differ," Sebastian said quietly. ―A lady in distress is always my concern."
―The lady is my affianced bride," Newbury snapped, ―and therefore she will never be your concern."
―Is that true?" Sebastian asked Annabel. Not because he believed it might be; rather he wished to give her the opportunity to make a public denial.
She shook her head no.
Sebastian turned back to his uncle. ―Miss Winslow seems to be under the impression that she is not your affianced bride."
―Miss Winslow is an idiot."
Sebastian‘s gut tightened, and his fingers got a strange, tingly feeling, the sort that forced one‘s hands into fists. Still, he kept his demeanor cool, merely raising a brow as he commented dryly,
―And yet you wish to marry her."
―Stay out of this," his uncle warned.
―I could," Seb murmured, ―but I‘d feel so guilty in the morning, allowing a perfectly lovely young lady to meet such a terrible end."
Newbury‘s eyes narrowed. ―You never change, do you?"
Sebastian kept his face remarkably blank as he said, ―If you mean I‘m eternally charming…"
His uncle‘s jaw tightened, nearly to the point of shaking.
―Winsome, even, some would say." Sebastian knew he was pushing it, but it was so damned hard to resist. There was such a sense of déjà vu in these arguments. They never changed. His uncle went on about what a pathetic excuse for a human being he was, and Sebastian stood there, bored, until he was done. Which was why, when Newbury started into his latest rant, Sebastian merely crossed his arms, widened his stance, and prepared to wait it out.
―All your life," Newbury raged, ―you‘ve been shiftless and without direction, whoring about, failing at school—"
―Well, now, that‘s not true," Seb cut in, feeling the need to defend his reputation in front of such a large audience. He‘d never been at the top of his class, but he damn well hadn‘t been at the bottom, either.
But his uncle had no intention of bringing his tirade to an end. ―Who do you think paid for that bloody education of yours? Your father?" He chortled with disdain. ―He never had two shillings to rub together. I paid his bills his entire life."
For a moment Sebastian was taken aback. ―Well, then, I suppose I must thank you," he said quietly. ―I did not know."
―Of course you didn‘t know," his uncle shot back. ―You don‘t pay attention to anything. You never have. You just trot about, sleeping with other men‘s wives, running away, leaving the country, and the rest of us have to take responsibility for all your pranks."
Now that was too much. But when Sebastian got angry, he got insolent. And flip. And actually quite funny. He turned to Annabel and held his hands out as if to say—how can this be?―And here I thought I was joining the army. King and country and all that."
A small crowd had gathered around them. Apparently Lady Challis and her guests had given up all pretense of discretion.
―I do hope I‘m not mistaken," he added turning to onlookers with a carefully constructed expression of incredulity on his face. ―I shot an awful lot of people in France."
Someone snickered. Someone else covered a laugh with a hand. But no one, Sebastian noticed, made any move to intervene. He wondered if he would have done so, were he an onlooker.