"Oh, Sebastian, whatever are we to do?"
He drew his arms around her, holding her tight. "I don't know, love. I ..." he began and then stopped, clutching her tightly. "God forgive me but I wanted him dead. If he had taken you from me ..."
Georgiana clung to him, shaking her head. "I'm here, I'll never be anywhere else but I don't want him to die. Sebastian, he was desperate." She looked up at him, her lovely face stained with tears. "The men he owes money to, they'll kill him. That's why he said he'd ..." She stopped and swallowed, clutching at his waistcoat. "He said he'd rather you killed him than ..."
He held her as she sobbed against his chest. Their attention was taken though by the men lifting Beau and taking him upstairs. Alperton turned and came to them, his face grave.
"Will he live?" Sebastian asked, feeling as though his voice came from a great distance away.
The doctor nodded. "For now, certainly. The wound of itself is not serious. It's missed bone and organs, but it's the infection that may follow that will be the devil of it. I swear to you I'll do my best though, your Grace."
"Please," Sebastian said. "Please do everything."
Alperton grasped his arm and squeezed. "I'll do everything I can to keep him alive and you out of another scandal."
Sebastian nodded, too exhausted to explain it wasn't only the scandal he feared. Beau had been like the brother he'd never had. He knew he could never forgive him for what he'd done in taking Georgiana, but the idea that he might be responsible for killing him pulled at his heart.
"Come." Falmouth strode over to them and steered them into a room that proved to be a library. Somehow the earl had taken over and a fire had been lit and he forced a glass of brandy into each their hands.
"We need to get you both back to London," he said as Lord Nibley entered the room, looking as ashen faced as Sebastian felt. "Nibley here will swear you were both in his company all evening if it comes to it. The doctor has also agreed that ... if the worst happens, Beau contracted an illness of some description and it aggravated a heart condition no one knew about. There will be no scandal. Do you hear?"
"Oh, God," Sebastian said, rubbing his hand over his face. "I pray it doesn't come to that."
"Don't we all," Falmouth snapped. "You've plunged us all into the deuce of a tangle, Sindalton!"
It was too much. Sebastian threw his glass at the wall and lunged at the earl, shoving him hard against the wall. "He abducted her, Falmouth. He was going to force her to marry him!" he yelled. "I wanted the bastard dead! What would you have done, if it had been Céleste?"
To his credit the earl didn't so much as flinch and waved away the men who came bursting through the door as Georgiana exclaimed in horror.
"I wouldn't have missed," the earl said with a grim smile, breaking the tension. Sebastian snorted and let out a breath before allowing his hands to fall from Falmouth's neck.
The earl readjusted his cravat and sent his men out of the room again.
"I do understand," he added, giving Sebastian another glass and a sympathetic look. "More than you might imagine."
"That's not all though," Georgiana said, her voice little more than a whisper.
The three men turned around to look at her. Her arms were clutched around her shivering frame, the elegant white muslin dress stained red with Beau's blood. She looked over at Sebastian, her pretty eyes so full of fear that he hated himself for having dragged her into this mess. He crossed the floor and took her hands, steering her to sit down beside the fire.
"I-I told you I was in trouble," she said, looking wretched as tears ran down her face.
"It wasn't Beau threatening you?" he demanded, wondering what the hell else could stand between them. Hadn't the fates had enough? Did every generation of their family have to suffer for their parent's unhappy marriages?
She shook her head. "Beau would never have hurt me, Sebastian, you know that. B-but my uncle, he would. He did."
"What?"
With horror they listened as she revealed in a halting voice her terrifying encounter with the Baron.
"I'll kill him," Sebastian raged. "How dare he lay his hands on you, the bastard!"
"No," Falmouth said, his eyes dark. "You'll not kill him. We've already got the possibility of one body to account for. I'll not willingly add another."
"Then you think we should let him get away with it?" Sebastian demanded. His fists clenched with impotent fury. What in the name of God did he have to do to keep this woman safe?
"Of course not, and you will be free to beat him to a pulp I assure you. Just don't kill him," Falmouth said with a touch of impatience. "But you're right about one thing, Sindalton. I think it's time we paid the Baron a little visit."
"Sebastian!" He looked around to see Georgiana looking terrified and wide eyed with shock. "He's my guardian, we can't marry without his consent."
"Oh don't worry, love," he said with a grim smile. "He'll give his consent."
The moonlit journey back to London was long and relieved only by the fact of having Georgiana safe in his arms. She was quiet and still, too shocked to sleep, and too weary to do anything but gaze out of the window at the silvered landscape with eyes that saw nothing at all.
If she was seeing anything he suspected the scene was the same as he was replaying: That dreadful moment when the gun had fired and his childhood friend had staggered back as the bullet drove into his flesh. Sebastian screwed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn't want Beau dead, though he hated him for what he'd done. But he knew too, if he stood there again in that moment, he'd do exactly the same thing.
Chapter 34
"Wherein revenge is served with cool satisfaction."
They returned Lord Nibley home and then Georgiana, with as little noise and attention as was possible. Céleste had sent all the servants to bed as she'd been told to and took Georgiana up to bed herself, nodding at her husband's instruction to burn the bloody clothes she wore without so much as a blink.
Sindalton climbed back into the carriage with Falmouth after promising Georgiana that he would come to no harm and would call on her as soon as he was able.
He faced Falmouth across the carriage and wondered how it had come to pass that in the same night he'd shot his best friend, he found himself allied with a man who considered him an enemy.
"I've never had the chance to apologise," he said, his voice uncomfortably loud in the confines of the dark carriage. Falmouth's cold grey eyes glinted, his face devoid of emotion. "For what happened with ..."
"When you sent my ex mistress to my house to cause a scene and the woman I loved to flee, you mean?" the earl said with a smile that looked like he wanted to rip his throat out, with his teeth.
Sebastian cleared his throat. "Yes. For that."
"Then please do."
God he was a cold bastard, Sebastian thought, though not without a grudging admiration.
"I thought you were using her," he admitted. "I had no idea you were offering marriage. Your reputation was not the kind that made the thought enter my head."
He saw something in the man's posture shift a little, the taut line of his jaw perhaps a little less rigid.
"I'd never been in love before," he said, his tone gruff.
Sebastian laughed, nodding. "I know just what you mean ... with Georgiana!" he added, seeing the murderous glint return to the earl's expression. "Anyway, I am sorry for it. I had no idea of the mischief the woman would cause, but she clearly had her own agenda."
Falmouth grunted. "That she did," he replied, his tone dry as he stretched his long legs out in the confines of the carriage.
They were quiet for a moment, the rumble of the carriage through the dark streets of the capital the only sound.
"Thank you," Sebastian said, needing to make him understand that he was only too aware how deep he stood in the man's debt. "For tonight, and for everything you did in ... in giving Georgiana her come out. She's told me how very kind and generous you've be
en."
"I only did it to annoy you," Falmouth replied, and this time the smile was genuine.
Sebastian laughed. "Well that I do believe." He frowned, suddenly more than curious about the enigmatic earl. His reputation was that of a dark and violent character, and judging from the motley crew that had turned up with him tonight, Sebastian was only too willing to believe it. "Who are those men?" he demanded. "And why does the word pirate spring to mind whenever I look at them?"
The earl just gave him an inscrutable smile and shrugged. "I have no idea what you mean, your Grace."
***
The Baron Dalton's town residence was an elegant stuccoed house on Upper Wimpole Street. Whilst not an address of the haut ton, it was home to the wealthiest on the fringes of that exclusive world, and the nouveau riche. The carriage took them some way past the house, stopping quietly and moving swiftly on as Sebastian, the earl and those of his men who had ridden on the outside, jumped down.
Another carriage, some distance farther back, also disgorged a number of rather terrifying looking occupants who, at a gesture from the earl, disappeared to the rear of the house.
Moving quickly and with surprising stealth, the earl motioned for Mousy, the unlikely name of the largest man Sebastian had ever seen in his life, to go to the front door. This the big man did and crouched down, with some small iron pins in his hand. To Sebastian's surprise the front door sprang open, without the faintest sign of protest, and he and Falmouth stepped inside with Mousy and two other armed men at their backs. There was a quiet scuffling sound from below stairs which was quickly subdued, and then a large, barrel-shaped man stuck his tattooed arm around the door signalling them to enter with a rather devilish grin.
"Well done, Harry," Falmouth said, nodding his approval. The men spread out, opening doors and checking the downstairs rooms were empty before they made their way up the stairs.
They halted behind a door, the only one of which showed a glimmer of light at the threshold.
"We've dealt with 'is missus," Mousy whispered as he came striding out of one of the other rooms and then gave Sebastian a reproachful look at his horrified expression. "Keep yer 'air on, yer grace, we didn't ruffle 'er none. Just tied her up and tol' 'er to keep mum, is all."
From this Sebastian deduced with some difficulty that the woman was alive but restrained and gagged, and he turned back to the Baron's door.
"After you," Falmouth said, with a polite gesture.
Sebastian snorted and went to move forward but the earl's arm checked him. "Don't kill the bastard," he warned. "I quite sympathise, but London will be waking soon and it's a bloody difficult time to dispose of a Baron."
Sebastian opened his mouth to demand how he knew that and then closed it abruptly. He didn't want to know.
The Baron sat up in bed with a start as Sebastian strode through into his bedroom.
"What the devil is the meaning of this?" he barked, his face reddening with fury as the Duke of Sindalton and the Earl of Falmouth sidled into the room as if they owned the place.
Sebastian lost no time in grabbing the man by his night shirt and hauling him to his feet. He pushed him into the room a little and the Baron stumbled back, looking around at the two men with growing rage. "My God, I'll have your heads for this!" he shouted. Sebastian didn't wait to hear more but drew back his fist and punched the man full in the face. There was a rather satisfying crunch as the man's nose broke and a howl of rage as he went down.
"That was for laying your filthy hands on Lady Dalton, you bastard," he growled and hauled the man to his feet to repeat the process. The baron slammed back against the wall, blood pouring from his nose.
"Don't think your titles will protect you," he spluttered, the words somewhat distorted through the blood. "I'm a powerful man ... I have friends ..."
Falmouth took an exaggerated look around the room. "Where?" he demanded, one black eyebrow raised. "I see no friends, do you, your Grace?"
Sebastian put his hand to the baron's throat and began to squeeze as the man clawed at his wrist. "I don't see a soul, Falmouth. I think the man must be delirious."
"Probably lack of oxygen," the earl remarked, watching with a placid expression as Sebastian put his mind to throttling the life out of the despicable creature who had terrorised his beloved. "Best put him down now, your Grace," Falmouth said, with obvious amusement. "You don't know where he's been."
With great reluctance, Sebastian let go and watched as the man slid to the floor, the Baron's slightly blue-tinged face turning a deep purple with rage and humiliation.
"I-I'll get you ... for ... this ..."
"No," Sebastian replied, his tone even. "You won't. The only reason you're still breathing at all is because Falmouth there thinks disposing of you would be more trouble than you're worth." He crouched down and put his face level with the Baron's. "You're a cowardly brute who likes to inflict pain, just because he can. Well, you bastard, now it's our turn, and we mean to have our pound of flesh."
The man blanched, perhaps finally realising the threat for what it was.
"What is it you want?"
Sebastian snorted. "What I want is you dead at my hands, but as that has been denied me," he said, sending a chagrined look at the earl. "Then I'll have to be satisfied with being rid of you."
"I hear America is ... pleasant at this time of the year," Falmouth replied, making a show of inspecting his fingernails.
"You can't make me disappear!" the baron exploded, apoplectic with rage. Falmouth reached out his hand and gave a quiet tap on the door, stepping back as it flew open and the room filled with men. Suddenly silent, the baron looked around with wide eyes at the disreputable looking crew assembled in his elegant bedroom. He stared at Falmouth.
"Who the devil are you really?" he demanded.
"It's really best you don't know," the earl replied, his eyes cold and hard. "Help him pack, Mousy, there's a good fellow."
"Aye, aye, capt'n," the big man said with a nasty grin as the earl left the room.
Sebastian stayed for a moment, staring down at the despised and now terrified creature at his feet.
"What will happen to the good baron if any rumours should begin about Lady Dalton, Mousy?" he asked, never taking his eyes from the baron.
"Oh, don't you be worrit about that, yer grace," the big man said, a chuckle rumbling through his big frame. "We'll explain all about it to 'im once yer safe away. An also what might 'appen, should 'e go gettin' a fancy to come back to England, I reckon." He rubbed his hands together looking more piratical than Sebastian could credit. "Seems the crew o' The Redemption are on a trip to America, an they'll 'ave plenty o' time to see the baron understands jus what's in store for 'im, should that maggot ever enter 'is brain, like."
Sebastian laughed and slapped Mousy on the shoulder. "Well then, if I can just find some paper and ink, I have one last little job for the man before he sets off on his travels."
Chapter 35
"Wherein forgiveness is withheld, but a joyous day begins."
With all the attendant scandal of their pasts, Sebastian rejected the idea of a special licence.
Georgiana had pouted and wheedled, but to no avail.
"Well if you don't want to marry me," she said with a huff, and not for the first time, as they strolled a little behind Céleste and Alex through Hyde Park. It was a glorious day. The spring flowers were out in profusion and everything looked green and fresh in the sunshine.
Sebastian chuckled and covered her hand with his own.
"Only another five days, love," he murmured, looking down at her with warmth in his dark eyes.
"Oh!" Georgiana said wrathfully, as she put up her chin and gave a sniff of disgust. "I don't believe you love me at all, you wretch! How can you sound so nonchalant? Five whole days!" she wailed. “It's an eternity."
He paused then, and drew her as close as was possible considering the very public setting, but the need in his eyes was raw enough and only too visible. "If y
ou think this is easy for me, then you are very, very wrong," he said, his voice low. "I'm going slowly out of my damned mind. But after the scandals we've had to grow up with, we're doing this properly. So that no one can ever point the finger and say there was anything the least bit shady about it." He swallowed and raised her hand to his lips, kissing her fingers with a soft brush of his lips. "But I admit, it's killing me too, love. I can't sleep, I can't think of anything but you."
Georgiana gave a contented little sigh and leaned her head on his shoulder as they walked on. "Well that's alright then. Just as long as you're suffering as much as I am."
He gave a little bark of laughter. "More, you heartless hussy!"
She chuckled, stopping for a moment to remonstrate with Conrad who was looking at the ducks on the Serpentine with a considering expression. Chastised, her adventurous hound loped off after Bandit and Georgiana decided not to wonder about what chaos the two idiotic dogs would bring down on them next.
"Well I think it's too bad that the Duke of Sindalton can't get an earlier date for the wedding," she said, deciding she hadn't teased him quite enough yet, after all. "I mean, what's the good in being a duchess if I can't always have my own way?"
"Oh, it's like that is it?" Sebastian looked down at her, one eyebrow raised and his haughtiest ducal expression in place. "I'll have you know that if I wasn't a duke, you'd have to wait another two months before there was an available space at St George's! I had no idea the place was so overrun."
"No, really? I thought you must always get your own way in everything ... I mean, I thought that would explain it at least." She had the utmost difficulty in looking at his outraged expression and not allowing her lips to twitch.
"Explain what?" he demanded.
"Oh, you know," she said, waving her hand in an airy fashion and holding back her amusement with difficulty. "Your high-handed manner." She was unable to tease him further as mirth got the better of her. "Your face," she exclaimed laughing as he huffed at her. "Oh, dear, you did look affronted." Leaning into him she looked up and batted her eyelashes. "I'm sorry, Sebastian, but you are so deliciously easy to tease."
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