A Graceful Swan for the Fearless Marquess: A Clean & Sweet Regency Historical Romance

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A Graceful Swan for the Fearless Marquess: A Clean & Sweet Regency Historical Romance Page 15

by Fanny Finch


  “I see. Lord Rothwell seems to have forgotten to mention your new friendship, when he intimated me on recent happenings.”

  He looked at Liliana again and back at Sebastian. Sebastian knew that if Walsh did that once more time, he would be forced to warn the man to refrain from daring to look at his woman.

  His woman… it was the second time he would think of her like that in one evening. Where was this sudden possessiveness coming from?

  “I did not know you and uncle were so close.”

  “You call him uncle too? I always thought it odd when Hanson, bless his soul, called him that. Speaking of Hanson, I am truly sorry about his loss, Longcross. Hanson was a great man, a very great man. A shame he had to go that way. Many of us wonder how we would die, but I do not believe Hanson, valiant man that he was, ever believed he would choke from lack of air in his own Study. You have my condolences”

  Everything in Sebastian froze as he looked at Walsh. The chill he now felt crept down his spine and he wondered how best to handle this information.

  It was common knowledge that Hanson’s heart had failed him. That was what had been told his family, and the society. It was what everyone knew.

  Now, Walsh spoke of suffocation? Was it possible that he knew something?

  Deciding not to give anything away, Sebastian recovered from his shock. Clearing his throat, he spoke.

  “Thank you, Walsh. Your kind words are much appreciated. Oh well, it was lovely running into you. I would like to linger, but I am afraid I must be on my way. I promised Rothwell I would get the ladies home in time.”

  “Understandably. Do have a safe ride, Longcross. I bid you goodnight. My lady.”

  Liliana nodded in acknowledgment. Sebastian did the same, answering for them both.

  “You too, Walsh. Farewell.”

  With those words, they parted ways. As they covered what distance remained until they reached where their carriage stood, Sebastian pondered on the encounter.

  What did Walsh know? Why had he foolishly uttered what he believed to be the cause of Hanson’s death, and why had he said it with so much certainty?

  Now, Sebastian was certain that the circumstances surrounding Hanson’s death were suspicious, and rightly so.

  Then, there was the matter with Liliana. He wondered what the story was. He was curious to know, but he was aware that now was not the time to ask.

  Finally, they reached where Reuben and Nora stood to wait for them and offered their sincere apologies. In no time, they were all in the carriage and bounded for the Rothwell’s residence.

  Thoughts of Walsh remained on Sebastian’s mind for the rest of the night.

  Chapter 18

  “Almost all of London shall be at this ball tonight, Ramsey. I assure you. Nevertheless, these men will never leave their houses unguarded. We have made great progress so far, and I wish that it continues so. Please, take great care and if you ever find yourself at risk of harm, remove yourself from the situation immediately.”

  Sebastian’s worry was evident in his voice. He had come to grow a fondness for the investigator and he would hate for any harm to come to the man on his behalf.

  “Yes, my lord. I can say the same for you. As you have said, almost all of London shall be at this ball tonight. I would rather you do this some other time…”

  The two men sat in darkness in a hired coach, the only source of lightning, being the rays of moonlight that seeped in from the half-closed window. They spoke in hushes, but firm voices, aware that the wind had ears, and no one could be trusted.

  “This is my only chance, Ramsey. Or perhaps, my best. Everyone shall be at the ballroom, distracted. The noise would serve as a good cover. I shall have my chance to sneak into his study and see what I can find there.”

  “Indeed. Take heed, still. You shall be in the lion’s den and anything can go wrong. Please, protect yourself. I must admit, when you came to me with your tale, I reckoned you were simply wrought with grief and in denial, desperate to make sense of it all. However, during the course of this investigation, I must say, I have come to share your belief. There is some foulness at play here. Something bigger than just your brother. I am happy to have the opportunity to be the one to uncover it. We must not lose guard and we cannot afford to make any mistakes.”

  Sebastian’s heart swelled with pride, for he knew he had made a perfect choice. No one could have handled matters better than Ramsey. The runner was discrete and very intelligent.

  He had helped to uncover the business devilry of several Lords involved in this scheme. He was passionate about his job and Sebastian was resting assured that with his help, they would find his brother’s murderer.

  “You are right, Ramsey. I thank you. We must part ways now. Farewell.”

  “Farewell, my Lord.”

  Sebastian’s response was a curt nod, after which he dropped from the carriage. It was the street just before the street where Walsh’s townhome was located, and his carriage awaited him, about fifty feet away.

  Looking right and left to ascertain that no one had seen him, he tipped his hat lower, furthering covering his features. Glad for the darkness of the night and his coat, he began to walk to the fine carriage he could glimpse down the streets.

  In no time, he was in his familiar coach and before he could count the hands of the clock, they were rolling to a stop right in front of Walsh’s residence.

  “Keep warm, Riley!” He called out to his coachman as he started towards their house. There was a chill in the air, tonight. It was probably just the dread of the unknown that awaited him, settling in his bones.

  Still, he shrugged his coat even more tightly around himself, aware that he would have to give up its comfort soon.

  He was soon in Walsh’s residence, and he had to confess, he was impressed. The man had no title, but he certainly had wealth. No one knew of his father.

  Sebastian wasn’t given to hear-says, but he had heard many rumors concerning the gentleman and his descent.

  Many claim he was an illegitimate child, sired to a nobleman who would not marry his mother and had been paid in riches, for her silence. Others believe his father had been a nobody but had managed to give his son enough to build upon, before his demise.

  Sebastian did not know what the truth was and he could care less. He simply wanted to find out who killed his brother.

  Nodding cheerfully at everyone he came across and even stopping for some chit chat, he studied the crowd and waited for the perfect time to disappear.

  He was aware he needed to see Liliana, but that would have to wait. He feared once in her presence, he would be able to do little else. She would become all that mattered.

  Liliana had a way of making the world seem so small. It was a feeling he relished, yet one to be so enjoyed, at the right moment. This was not one of such moments.

  His time came the moment the first dance began. Making certain no one who had close ties with him had sighted him, he ducked out of the ballroom and began to find his way into the study.

  After several turns, and almost getting lost, he found it. The hallway was eerie, too quiet. It made the chill come back and Sebastian mourned the loss of his coat.

  Looking about the dark hall to be certain he hadn’t been followed and wasn’t being watched, he took steps closer to the large wooden doors.

  His heart was thumping in his chest now. Not too loudly, yet he feared it would alert anyone who cared to listen.

  Ah… Sebastian was no weakling. He had had rigorous training until that moment. He would hold his own very well, in any kind of fight. A swords fight, hand to hand combat or a duel of guns.

  Yet, he had never truly done anything so dangerous in his lifetime. Also, he did not know how dangerous this Walsh was. If he had any relation to Hanson’s death, it would mean that these people had no problem with killing.

  It would be that his own life was at risk, and well so.

  Taking a deep breath and willing his heart to be still
, he took another glance around. Then, he listened.

  The noise from the ballroom flowed with the wind to him. Chattering, music, laughter… then there was nothing else. It appeared he was completely alone.

  Somewhat comforted by that knowledge, he let himself release the breath he had been holding, and covered the distance that was left to the door.

  As he arrived, he reached out and latched on to the handle. His heart began to thrum louder but he held his peace. With great care, he pushed the handle, and held his breath once more.

  A wave of disappointment churned in his stomach when nothing happened. Unwilling to accept defeat just like that, he tried again.

  The door still wouldn’t budge. It had been locked.

  Oh, but of course! How could he not have considered that likelihood? Ramsey had said no mistakes. Yet, they had just made one that might cost them gravely.

  Would there be another chance to break into Walsh’s study again? He reckoned not.

  His head fell as his heart did. A resigned sigh slipped free and he turned around, proceeding to return to the ballroom.

  He could only hope that Ramsey had better luck.

  He was lost in his thoughts as he continued on, trying to devise means through which they would return and for good. They would have to pick locks, of course. Probably climb windows? The latter he could manage but the former, he had no experience in.

  None, whatsoever.

  The hallways were beginning to get brighter now, the noise louder. He was close to the ballroom, he knew this, and anyone who had stepped out for some wandering or fresh air could easily happen upon him.

  Lifting his head, he willed his demeanor to change and for a smile to crease his face. Good thing that he did, for he might not have seen what he did in that moment.

  The side of his eye caught a movement, and he turned to see Walsh and Rothwell, carefully hidden away from the crowd, between pillars, engaged in what appeared to be a heated argument, but in hushed voices.

  His mind returned to that night he had run into Walsh, a two weeks ago. The man had given off the air of, he was very familiar with Rothwell, as well as the ladies.

  Sebastian had simply attributed that to the business they did together, but could it be more than that? What could they be arguing so passionately over?

  Not wanting to be seen, himself, he tried to step in between the pillars that stood at opposite ends from the one which shielded the men. Every fiber of his being ached to move closer if only to catch a few words of their conversation.

  Yet, he knew that would be suicide. So, he stood, watching for a while longer. After the while, realizing that there was nothing to be gained from that endeavor, he gave up his watch.

  Bells of alarm rung in his head, his instincts, heavy in his gut. Rothwell, Walsh, and Lord knew who else, were connected to Hanson’s death, and it all had to do with the gold mine. He just had to find out how they were all related.

  These thoughts remained on his mind as he rejoined the ballroom. Thankfully, yet again, he looked up in time to catch a wave of dark hair floating across the room, skirts in coral roses, swishing behind her.

  He didn’t have to think, he simply felt, and followed his heart.

  He found her at the buffet table, stuffing her cheeks with cake. It was so unladylike, he almost laughed.

  “You look as though you can’t be called stealing.”

  She jumped, so much that it was a surprise she remained in her skin. Doe-eyed, she turned to look at him, clearly startled.

  Now, Sebastian laughed. He almost forgot about the disappointment he had just suffered.

  He watched as her shoulders dropped in a relieved sigh, her eyes narrowed, and her lips curved into a smile. It was her eyes that fazed him, though.

  Those eyes, free from fear of having being caught, now twinkled in that familiar way he only saw them twinkle when he was near. It thrilled him to know that she affected him, just as much as he affected her.

  He had been wooing her alright, and he had been wooing her well. Gifts, many outings, and so many walks in the parks together. He had taken her to the gallery, the opera house, the Queen’s garden, the theatre once again…

  Everywhere that appealed to her affection for nature and art and she had loved every moment of it. Good thing, for he had enjoyed every breath in her presence.

  She was simply a delight, to watch and to be with. He no longer nursed doubts in his heart. Free from them, he had finally decided, he was in love with Liliana Swan and by God, he was going to make her his wife.

  He only had to deal with the matter of his brother first. Far be it for him to put her in harm’s way.

  “My goodness, Sebastian, you frightened me! I thought it was…”

  “Your father?” He did not know why he had thought she would be scared of Rothwell, but he was the one who had come to mind. Somehow, it felt fitting to Sebastian.

  Since when did he begin to think so poorly of a man he adored. Surely, he had to be wrong?

  “Father? Oh no. I thought it was Nora or my governess. She’s here, tonight, you know. She is finally better and has resumed her chaperone duties.”

  “Oh, I see. And might there be a reason why my lady does not want to be caught having cake?”

  She flushed red at that moment, and he knew there was a story. He wanted to hear all of it.

  By God, she was beautiful. Simply breathtaking.

  “Oh well, nothing interesting, I promise you. It is only I… my body seems to have an aversion for cakes. I take after father, not Lord Rothwell… I mean, my real father. He would always suffer from a stomach discomfort and a mild skin irritation that went away after a few days. When we learned that I was one with him in that regard, I too was forbidden from eating cakes. Oh, but this is oh so sweet and it looked like it would taste so delicious, I could not resist.”

  Tonight, he had learned one more thing about the woman he was going to call his wife. His woman.

  Sebastian smiled.

  “You would risk your stomach being in discomfort and skin irritation for its heavenly taste?” he asked in a false baritone voice that was teasing.

  Her giggle was all the reward he needed. It calmed his heart like the sweetest melody.

  “I do believe it is what I have just done, indeed. Oh, poor me. Slave to the pleasures of the world, God save me!”

  It was his turn to giggle. Brow slightly raised, he stepped closer to her.

  “I assumed Nora was the one given to theatrics.”

  “Oh well, she is my twin, anyway. A part of her is sure to rub off on me.”

  “Ah. True. True. Anyway, I believe the second dance is about to start. You promised me your first.”

  “Yes. You were nowhere to be found.” She sounded sad. The knowledge that she had sought him out, thrilled him no bound.

  “I apologize. Running the family’s business and state affairs is even harder than I thought it would be. I was kept longer than I had reckoned. I regretted every moment, I assure you. I do hope you gave it to someone befitting, though?”

  He hated that he had to lie to her, but in actuality, he was telling no lie. He simply wasn’t telling the truth. He wished he could, but the fewer people who knew, the best for everyone involved.

  “Do not fret over it, Sebastian. All is forgiven. My dance was given to ol’ man Wallace. His dear Henrietta has her knees hurting so she could not dance with him. I stepped in in her stead.”

  The vision of her dancing with the amiable old man and telling him tales to make him laugh flashed through Sebastian’s mind. A smile fit across his lips and he knew he would likely be there all night.

  He was glad. Glad she hadn’t been in the arms of another young man who would have tried to win her away for himself.

  “Well, I do hope I am able to measure up. May I have this dance, my lady? Only if of course, it hasn’t been promised to another.”

  She chuckled at that, taking the arm he had offered her.

  “All
of my dances are promised to you, Sebastian… we are courting now, remember?”

  Her words would have frozen him, had she not tugged on his arm, almost leading them to the dance floor, her magical laugh ringing in his ears all the way.

  He found his voice as they find their spot.

  “Liliana, do you mean what I think you do?”

  He held her gaze and she returned the intensity of his stare, unflinching. Nodding, she replied, “Yes, I do. I had asked you to woo me. Well, you have outdone yourself, Sebastian. I now consider myself, wooed, won, and rightfully so.”

 

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