Best of Both Rogues Page 13

  “So did I. I swear I wouldn’t have harmed him, and I never intended to chase him away.” Her brother turned toward her with such a long face that her anger began to dissipate. Sebastian had made a grave mistake—one that caused her much misery—but she would never believe he’d meant to hurt her.

  Besides, she had little in the way of family and couldn’t afford to remain at odds with loved ones. If—God forbid—she never saw her brother again, she wouldn’t want their last words between them to be harsh. She sank back into the chair with a grimace. “I suppose arguing will accomplish nothing. We cannot undo the past.”

  “No, we can’t, although I wish I could.” He stayed by the window, propping himself on the sill and drumming his fingers against his thigh. “It does not seem like a coincidence you have chosen to broach this topic now. Are you having second thoughts about marrying Hackberry? It wouldn’t be unusual with your wedding day fast approaching.”

  Her head jerked up. “Did you have doubts about marrying Helena?”

  “Ah… No, I didn’t.” He scratched his neck and smiled ruefully. “But I understand it is common for many people and nothing to be concerned about.”

  Her eyes narrowed on him. “If it is common, why didn’t you have doubts?” Eve was happy for her brother and Helena, and she had supported their union. She just didn’t understand why she would be afflicted with reservations when her brother hadn’t been, unless he was fabricating the entire story about her feelings being commonplace.

  Sebastian casually crossed his arms. “When I thought Helena would return to Scotland instead of marrying me, I found the prospect unbearable. She belonged with me, and it was as clear as the nose on my face. Once I’d convinced her to marry me, I was more concerned with making it down the aisle before she had doubts.”

  Eve nodded to show she understood his apprehension. Earlier in the Season, another young lady had jilted her brother and married his good friend. It was no wonder he’d been worried about Helena going through with their wedding.

  Perhaps that was the source of Eve’s anxiety too. She didn’t want to be jilted again either.

  “Has Sir Jonathan done something to upset you, Evie?”

  She shook her head. Truly, Jonathan hadn’t done anything unforgivable. He behaved oddly and was more absentminded than usual, but he had done nothing to warrant calling off the wedding. If anyone were guilty of wrongdoing, it was she. Ben was on her mind too often. She saw his face as she drifted to sleep at night, and his name was on her lips when she woke. When she should be looking forward to her new life with her betrothed, she was looking back at the one she’d almost had with Ben.

  She fidgeted, drawing a figure eight with her finger around the embroidered violets dotting her ivory skirts. “I understand what it is like to find life unbearable without the person you love. I imagine it is clear that I still have feelings for Ben.”

  Sebastian’s nostrils flared, and his face changed to bright red. She steeled herself for the tempest about to strike, prepared to go toe to toe with him again if necessary. “You do realize you are to marry Sir Jonathan in a week. You cannot afford to be swept up by nostalgia.”

  “I’m not.” Her brother seemed to be suggesting her memories were all rosy, and that was far from accurate. She would never forget two years of snide comments aimed in her direction, the self-righteous noses lifted high when she passed ladies on Bond Street, or worse, the ones who looked through her as if she didn’t exist. But neither could she forget the eagerness with which she had greeted each day before Ben left. How the sky was a richer shade of blue and the birdsongs had filled her with optimism and joy.

  Sebastian was watching her with raised eyebrows, his expression challenging.

  “I know my own mind, and I’m not being swept up by nostalgia.”

  “Good.” Braced in the window, he seemed as immovable as a mountain. “Your head can’t be full of wool when you have an important decision to make.”

  The small catch in her breath caused him to frown.

  “Sir Jonathan might not be the husband I would have chosen for you, but he is a decent gent. Make your decision soon. I wouldn’t like to see him go through what you and I endured.”

  Her pulse fluttered at the thought of hurting Jonathan the way she’d been hurt. She didn’t think she could put another person through what she had gone through. She swallowed, her throat scratchy. “If I breach the contract…”

  The lines around Sebastian’s eyes softened, and his dark eyes shone with warmth as he came toward her. “I will not have you marry someone you don’t want to wed for fear of the consequences. Joining your life with the wrong person is too large a price to pay.”

  Unfortunately, she didn’t know if Jonathan was wrong for her; he just didn’t feel quite right. Placing her brother at risk for being sued and providing more fodder for the gossips seemed a very steep price to pay when she couldn’t be certain she wasn’t just suffering from nerves.

  Sebastian nudged her chin so she had to look at him. “I will stand by your decision. I want you to be as happy as I am with Helena. But if you haven’t asked Mr. Hillary why he left you at the church, perhaps it would be wise to have that conversation before you consider severing ties with Sir Jonathan.”

  * * *

  Her brother’s insinuation became a bee in her bonnet the remainder of the day. He obviously thought Ben had some dark secret that, once she learned the details, would send her dashing into Jonathan’s embrace. The irritating notion that her brother might be right buzzed in her ears—that Ben had a secret, not that she would throw herself into Jonathan’s arms. It wouldn’t be fair to treat Jonathan as a spare in the event things couldn’t be set to rights with Ben. A husband should be first in a wife’s heart, and she was ashamed to admit Jonathan wasn’t. She loved Ben, dark secrets and all, which was the reason she needed a moment alone with her betrothed that evening.

  She didn’t look forward to the task of crying off, but her decision had been made the moment she knew Ben was back. Unfortunately, it had taken her mind a bit longer to catch up with her heart, and for that, she was very sorry. She never would have accepted Jonathan’s proposal if she had known their association would end in a broken betrothal.

  “Lady Hackberry,” she murmured to her reflection in the looking glass as Alice tied off the last of the tiny braids around her face. “Eve Hackberry.”

  Her maid swept the braids back on one side, pinned them, and coiled them to create a crown around her head. “It has a ring to it,” Alice mumbled around the pins sticking from her mouth.

  It sounded ill fitting and strange to Eve, but she kept her thoughts to herself.

  Alice secured the last pin, then stood back to inspect her work. “Lovely,” she said, as always. Eve never knew if her maid meant it as a compliment to Eve or herself, but she thanked her anyway.

  With her toilette complete, Eve made her way to the drawing room to await their guests with Helena and Sebastian. The newlyweds were sitting together on the settee when she entered unnoticed. Sebastian brushed a stray strand of Helena’s hair behind her ear and murmured something Eve couldn’t hear. Helena’s ivory skin glowed, and her pleased smile lit the room. Eve loved them both dearly, but in that moment, she was overcome with envy.

  She longed for evenings snuggled together with her husband on the settee while he whispered loving words in her ear. And she longed for that man to be Ben.

  Milo cleared his throat behind her, startling her. Sebastian and Helena turned in time to catch her spying on them but pretended they hadn’t noticed.

  “Have our guests arrived?” Sebastian asked as he stood and offered a hand up to his wife.

  “Yes, milord. Lady Eldridge and Sir Jonathan arrived at the same time.”

  Oh dear. She wouldn’t have a moment alone with Jonathan before they dined as she’d hoped.

  “Very good,” Seba
stian said. “We will come offer our greetings, then retire to the dining room. Have you notified Mother?”

  “I sent a footman, my lord.”

  Eve allowed her brother and sister-in-law to lead the way, perhaps dragging her feet a little. She didn’t want to sit through a meal pretending all was well when she knew her relationship with her betrothed wouldn’t last much beyond dessert.

  Jonathan greeted her with a kiss on her glove and complimented her gown before offering his arm. Mama met them in the dining room and exchanged a warm greeting with the countess and welcomed Jonathan.

  Once everyone was seated and the first course was served, Lady Eldridge brought up the topic Eve had been dreading. “Helena tells me you’ve chosen a lovely gown and flowers for the church. We really must settle on a menu for the breakfast. Perhaps you, your mother, and Helena should come for tea tomorrow.”

  Eve looked helplessly toward Helena. Even if she were to marry Jonathan, she didn’t want the attention a lavish wedding breakfast would bring. She wished to marry quietly and settle into married life without much ado.

  Her sister-in-law set her spoon aside and delicately touched her napkin to the corners of her mouth. “Olive, you know we wish for a cozy family affair. A breakfast is not necessary.”

  The countess sniffed. “Even family must eat, Helena. Isn’t that correct, Lady Thorne?”

  Eve’s mother smiled politely but didn’t offer an opinion. The strategy discussed earlier in the week allowed for Helena to handle the countess, although Eve wasn’t certain Lady Eldridge could be handled.

  “Besides,” the countess said, “the Dowager Duchess of Foxhaven plans to attend. What kind of impression would it leave if I were to host a wedding breakfast without serving breakfast?”

  Helena wasn’t prepared to surrender, much to Eve’s admiration. “I believe we have a slight misunderstanding. Although Eve and Sir Jonathan are grateful for your kind offer, they don’t wish to have a wedding breakfast.”

  Jonathan nodded his agreement.

  “Oh, pish posh.” Lady Eldridge leaned toward Eve, addressing her. “Dearest, the wedding breakfast is not for the bride. It is for her guests. There is no help for it. All you must do is smile prettily and accept everyone’s best wishes. Do you like pastries?”

  “Uh…” Eve glanced toward Helena for guidance, but her sister-in-law seemed as lost as Eve when it came to taking control of the conversation. “Pastries are nice, my lady, but—”

  “Of course the gentlemen will want something heartier, so I was thinking an egg dish and ham.” Lady Eldridge retrieved her spoon to finish her soup and pointed it toward Jonathan, who had been uncommonly silent during dinner, although talk of wedding breakfasts likely didn’t interest him. “Do you like ham and eggs, Sir Jonathan?”

  “I do, however—”

  “Excellent!” The countess took a dainty sip of soup, but before Eve could gather her thoughts, Lady Eldridge barreled on. “I’m certain Lord and Lady Norwick will expect an invitation. And I suppose that means Lord Norwick’s sister should be included as well. Lord and Lady Ellis are on the list, and if we invite Lady Ellis, we shouldn’t exclude her siblings. You wouldn’t want to offend the Duke of Foxhaven or his new bride.”

  “True,” Eve murmured. She didn’t wish to offend anyone, but there seemed no way to avoid it. As the guest list grew, her palms began to grow damp. There wouldn’t be much time to cry off before Lady Eldridge had the invitations in the post. In fact, Eve wouldn’t be surprised if the countess already had them written.

  Eve caught Jonathan’s eye across the table, but he didn’t offer a smile as usual. Instead, he watched her with a gaze so intense, she worried he might be able to decipher her thoughts. She blinked and looked away.

  By the end of the evening, Helena still hadn’t convinced the countess a breakfast wasn’t needed, despite her valiant efforts. “I will come by Eldridge House tomorrow,” Helena said as they walked their guests to the front door. “We can discuss the matter further then.”

  “Splendid.” The countess flashed a brilliant smile, apparently believing she had won the argument.

  The cousins exchanged hugs, and Sebastian escorted the countess to her carriage. Once Lady Eldridge was seen to, Sebastian, Helena, and Mama allowed Eve and Jonathan a moment alone to say good-bye.

  Jonathan checked his watch. “It is late. I should be going. Thank you for a lovely evening, Miss Thorne.” His grim expression said the evening had been anything but lovely. However, she couldn’t very well call him out for being polite.

  “We are pleased you came.”

  “As am I. Farewell for now.” He took her hands in his and placed a dutiful kiss on her cheek. She would have asked him to stay except he was practically dashing for the door.

  Milo opened the front door, and as Jonathan reached the threshold, Eve called out, “Sir Jonathan?”

  He turned with an expectant smile, making her feel like the worst person on earth. She truly didn’t want to hurt him.

  “Would you have time to call on me tomorrow? There are things we should discuss.” When he simply stared, heat rushed into her face. “A-about the wedding.”

  A small twitch of his eyebrow was the only sign he had heard her. “As you wish, Miss Thorne.”

  Sixteen

  As soon as the door to Thorne Place closed behind Jonathan, he cursed under his breath. Miss Thorne wasn’t going to cry off. There was but a week left before their nuptials, and she was planning a wedding breakfast—not entertaining ways to be rid of him.

  The small surge of satisfaction at knowing she still wanted him ebbed as quickly as it came. She was better off without him. The kindest thing he could do for her would be to send her running into Ben Hillary’s arms, but Jonathan had promised to allow her to make the choice.

  He circled his palm over the dull ache in his chest. Even though letting Miss Thorne go would be in her best interest, it hurt to realize he was destined to be alone. There would be no one to mourn him when he was no more.

  Forgoing a hack, Jonathan set off on foot for his town house. The gas lamps along Mayfair’s streets illuminated the fog, creating a ghostly quality. He had nothing to fear from footpads or the like. The Regent’s Consul had seen to that. Jonathan was a man to be feared, but few people ever realized it when he played the role of a crackpot anthropology enthusiast.

  Perhaps that was what had drawn him to Eve. She didn’t dismiss him as simply a bumbling fool beneath her notice. She accepted him as he was with an open, loving heart. Eve saw him.

  She doesn’t see the real you.

  “Sod off,” he mumbled.

  “You’ll not get rid of me that easily,” a voice replied from his right. An intruder entered the dim circle of light from a streetlamp.

  In one fluid movement, Jonathan unsheathed the blade hidden in his walking stick and pressed the sharp tip beneath the man’s chin before Jonathan recognized him. “Margrave.”

  A trickle of blood oozed down the viscount’s neck, but he didn’t so much as flinch.

  Jonathan stepped back, dropping his blade. “What the hell are you doing sneaking up on me? I could have slit your throat.”

  Margrave’s brow lifted. A flash of light caught on the knife in his hand as he sheathed it. “You were distracted. I shouldn’t have gotten this close without you noticing. Mooning over a lady will only get you killed.”

  Jonathan didn’t bother responding. His colleague was right. He couldn’t walk around with his head in the clouds unless he was courting an early death. Perhaps he should take a cue from Margrave and abandon any hope of a normal existence.

  Margrave fell into step with Jonathan as he continued toward his home. The streets of Mayfair were deserted at this time of night with partygoers attending balls that would last until the early morning hours.

  “Farrin had you followed. Just as you suspec
ted. A German seaman looking for coin. It was no wonder he was easy to spot.”

  Margrave’s revelation came as no surprise. Jonathan knew Farrin had been trying to send a message.

  “According to my source, Farrin has grown impatient,” Margrave said. “You have a ship at your disposal, but you’re still dallying with the chit.”

  Jonathan glared at him and Margrave held up his hands in submission. It was a trick. Farrin’s men didn’t submit to anyone.

  “I am only repeating what I heard.”

  “God’s blood. I am courting a lady, not dallying with a chit. Furthermore, what concern is it of his? I will leave London when I am damned ready.”

  Margrave regarded him with what appeared to be a measure of respect. “No one defies Farrin’s orders.”

  “Well, it is about time someone stood his ground with the blighter.”

  “Hackberry.” The viscount grabbed his arm, drawing him to a stop. “No one challenges the commander, because he tolerates no rebellion. Think carefully about what you are doing.”

  Farrin had a reputation for swift and merciless retribution, but what more could he do to Jonathan? He already had no family, no friends, and his chance for a happy life with Miss Thorne was being snatched away. “I don’t fear Farrin.”

  “Then fear for your betrothed,” Margrave said through gritted teeth. “You cannot guard her every moment. Our brothers are loyal to him, and she is vulnerable.”

  Jonathan rocked back on his heels, not believing what he’d heard. “He threatened her life?”

  “If you do not take care of the problem delaying you, Farrin will. I know nothing about your assignment, but I would advise you to make haste.”

  Jonathan narrowed his eyes on his fellow spy. Did Margrave’s loyalties lie with the organization? He gripped the handle of his walking stick. “And what are your orders?”

  “Farrin can go to hell,” Margrave spat. “A young lady is not an enemy of the Crown.”