Her brother approached her. “Let me guess. He made you stay with him.”
“Yes,” Gwen quipped. “He chained me down and forced me to wait out the rest of our meal.”
Tristan replied with a wicked grin before responding, “I’m glad you broke free of his chains. They don’t match your frock.”
Gwen rolled her eyes.
“Ah, the rolling of the eyes,” Sebastian’s voice seemed full of mirth. “It is an expression all too familiar. I see it at least five times a day from Victoria.”
Tori’s hands froze on the pianoforte keys. She turned to her brother. “I’ll have you know that I cut that number down to three.”
“I stand corrected.” Sebastian bowed his head to her.
“And I thought you were more perceptive,” Victoria teased in a sing-song voice.
“Annoying lot, sisters are.” Tristan caught and held Sebastian’s gaze. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
Sebastian raked Gwen with a stare as she crossed the room and joined his sister on the piano bench. “It depends on whose sister it is, I suppose.”
“Did your mother ever read you nursery rhymes?” Gwen asked of her younger counterpart.
Tori nodded, “Of course.”
“Mine too,” Gwen replied as she rummaged for a specific sheet of music before placing it atop the piano. “I loved the one about a brother and sister traipsing through a forest.”
“Why was it your favorite?” Tori asked.
“He was eaten by a wolf.”
Victoria glanced over her shoulder, seeking her own brother, her eyes widening with mischief. Sebastian coughed behind his hand, desperate not to laugh.
“See what I mean.” Tristan clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “They are absolutely brutal.”
Gwen leaned toward Tori then whispered in a conspiratorial tone, “If we ignore him, he may go away.”
“Tori was about to sing for us.” Sebastian’s rich timbre filled the small room.
“She was explaining that she doesn’t like playing the pianoforte,” Tristan added. “Why don’t you accompany her?”
“What do you think, Tori?” Gwen asked, shrugging her shoulders. “Shall we entertain the gentlemen?”
Though Victoria’s nerves were evident in her round, saucer shaped eyes her wit remained strong as ever. “I’d much prefer drawing them a mural.”
“And I’d much prefer pointing to it,” Gwen said, undaunted. “Alas, since that isn’t an option, we might as well make ourselves useful.”
Sebastian studied the scene with a keen sense of interest. He was well aware that his sister’s sarcasm, though one of her finest qualities, was also a prop. It allowed her to hide her anxiety. Somehow, Gwen seemed to sense this encouraged Victoria to the point where the anxious young woman, although not excited, was no longer opposed to the idea of singing in public.
Gwen’s fingers glided over the keys and Victoria sang like an angel. Upon seeing Gwen with his sister, Sebastian’s admiration for her increased ten-fold. She was wonderful with his sister. He rectified that. Gwen was wonderful, period.
Tristan interrupted Sebastian’s thoughts. “When I’m home, Gwen and I always go riding at daybreak.” He spoke in hushed tones, adding, “By and large, we don’t run into anyone as our trail goes from our estate up to the hill that borders our properties. Do you ever ride that trail in the mornings, Your Grace?”
Sebastian shot Tristan a sly look. “I believe I will be traveling that trail every morning from now on.”
“What a coincidence,” Tristan mocked, turning to enjoy the ladies’ performances.
Sebastian smiled to himself, fully satisfied with the evening’s events. He wanted Gwen more than he had ever wanted anything or anyone though he knew not why. Perhaps it was because he had known her so long ago? He knew her soul to be kind and pure? Or perhaps it was because she was betrothed to another therefore out of reach and off limits to him?
No, none of those reasons rang true. It was because he wanted her, plain and simple, nothing more. Yet, the more he considered it, it was indeed more complicated. After all, he wanted Gwen to desire him just as much.
He had always known that at some point he would be forced to consider a marriage of convenience for the sole purpose of producing an heir if nothing more. The thought always sickened him, as Sebastian had no desire to ever marry but his duty to carry on his title to the next generation nagged at him, refusing to let him be. It was forever lurking in the shadows and never hidden for very long.
As Sebastian watched Gwen tapping the keys to the pianoforte he silently listed her finest qualities. She was smart and witty, kind and honest – she always had been. She was also spunky as hell, as he had just recently been reminded. In addition, Gwen was absolutely beautiful and alluring as can be.
What more could he ask for?
It came as no surprise that his thoughts would enter the territory of marriage. After all, marrying Gwen would solve both of their dilemmas. She wouldn’t have to marry a man of her father’s choosing with some ridiculous name and worthless title. In turn, Sebastian would acquire a wife and produce an heir, without ever having to subject himself to the marriage market that was the ton. The more Sebastian considered it, the more he decided marrying Gwen would be the best course of action for both of them.
The moment the women finished, Sebastian announced the first part of his plan. “Victoria and I are throwing a ball in a fortnight. We will, of course, be dispatching the invitations through our livery. I hope you will both attend.”
Lachlan turned the corner just as his son accepted the Duke’s invitation, quickly backing away and returning to obscurity before anyone saw him.
Damn that boy for accepting the Duke’s invitation.
As he ascended the stairs, Lachlan tweaked his plan, calculating his next move. No one would see it coming. His daughter’s wishes be damned, Keir would join them at the Duke of Davenport’s ball and a wedding announcement would take place.
With the customary spring rain nowhere in sight, Gwen and her brother resumed their morning rides the very next day. She couldn’t discern why Tristan insisted she wear the appropriate ladies’ riding habit, as no amount of questioning would bring about an answer from her mischievous brother.
The answer to the riddle became obvious when they reached the crest of their favorite hill, her pulse quickening as she spied Sebastian sitting astride his prize black stallion. Her body’s response to his very presence, even today with her brother chaperoning them, remained relentless. It all but drove her mad, since Gwen doubted that she would ever feel the same about Keir.
In the course of the next week, Victoria began to join their morning rides and Gwen eagerly awaited the precious time she shared with them. The Duke of Davenport’s ball approached and her excitement grew with each passing day. She had already picked out a beautiful bronze gown, and in an effort to look more appealing than every other woman in attendance, instructed Jane to cut material from the bodice.
At first her maid hesitated, likely afraid of reprisal from Gwen’s father, however her mistress persisted until Jane agreed to restyle the bodice.
Gwen’s black cloud came three days before the ball when Keir arrived at Ainsley to formalize their betrothal agreement. By the end of this day her fate would be sealed.
She shuddered at the realization.
Keir joined father and daughter for dinner, as Tristan had returned to London on business the day prior to Keir’s arrival. Gwen pushed her food about with her fork but couldn’t stomach a bite, a queasy uneasiness washing over her whenever Keir was nearby. God, she didn’t want to marry this man. In truth, Keir made her skin crawl.
After their meal, Gwen escorted Keir to the front door with earnest unease. Not a promising way to begin a betrothal, she thought, as they reached the foyer. Then, Keir puckered his lips and placed a coarse, cold kiss on her lips.
“Stop it!” She pushed him away then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, di
sgust writhing under Gwen’s skin like a snake. Just like a serpent, she longed to strike the man if he ever touched her again.
Keir sniggered. “I’m just giving you a taste of what is to come. I have much more of that in reserve for the day we are wed.”
She watched Keir ascend the steps of his carriage, wiping her mouth once again as tight vines of dread wrapped around her heart, squeezing until she thought it might burst.
One of Keir’s cold, coarse kisses had been enough. She dared not imagine a lifetime of them.
Gwen didn’t want to leave her bedchamber the following morning, preferring to remain within its safe confines and hide from her future. Since Sebastian and Victoria would be expecting her, she ventured to their meeting place on her own, albeit reluctantly.
Her mare climbed to the top of the hill and the sight that greeted Gwen caused her heart to slam against her ribs. A lone horse was tethered to the tree, Sebastian’s onyx stallion.
With her heart racing at a frantic pace, she caught sight of Sebastian standing next to the handsome beast, patting his mane. His horse nickered a greeting and Sebastian turned in Gwen’s direction. The corners of his full lips draped in a lazy smile.
“Where is Victoria?” she asked, her shaky tone betraying her apprehension.
“My sister insisted upon supervising some last-minute preparations for our ball.” He walked to her. “Let me help you.”
Her body reacted to his hands on her waist with rushes of heat and flames. “Sebastian, I can’t stay.”
“Let me help you dismount from your horse and you can explain why.” Ignoring her further protests, he tightened his grip and lifted her to the ground before releasing her.
Gwen unbuttoned her gloves, tugging them off one finger at a time with force. She was sick to death of everyone ignoring her wishes, Sebastian included. He should have let her leave when she wanted to. Now, all she wanted to do was punish him for forcing her to stay.
“My father saw Keir yesterday.” Her tone was icy. She preferred it that way. “They finalized the betrothal hence it is inappropriate for me to be here with you sans a chaperone.”
“It didn’t bother you before,” he said in his sensual timbre.
Though Gwen turned on her heel and walked away from him, Sebastian shadowed her. “Why the sudden urge to stay away?”
“Because it is now final therefore I cannot back out.” Gwen reached the century-old oak whose canopy had shielded them during the downpour.
Was it really less than a fortnight ago? Her body trembled as she recalled his passionate kisses and soft caresses.
Sebastian closed the distance between them. The scent of his cologne foretold that he was near and the hairs on her neck stood on end.
“Why don’t you marry the man who makes you happy?”
As if it were that simple. Sebastian was just like her brother. Neither knew what it was like to be required by law to do as your father, your guardian, bid. Neither understood the consequences of crying off and the scandal that would ensue.
Gwen resented the law that deemed her rights insignificant; she resented her father for imposing his duty on her, and even more so, she resented Sebastian’s casual tone, his nonchalance. An urgent need to incite him, make him feel a little piece of her plight, overwhelmed her.
Turning to face him, Gwen chose words that she knew would inflict the most damage to his ego. “Pray tell, who might that be? The man who makes me happy, that is?”
“Don’t play games with me.” His gaze was sharp and judging. “You know the answer to that. Taunting me won’t make you feel better.”
Instead of being humbled by his words, as she knew she ought to be, Gwen’s anger heightened.
Taunting him would make her feel better because she was angry, because she felt helpless, and because he was the only one present on whom to take out her frustrations.
“I am marrying Keir,” she insisted.
“Why?” Sebastian’s tone warned that his anger was rising. “Why don’t you fight for yourself and refuse this unwanted marriage. It’s not like you to be so docile, so willing to sacrifice your own happiness—”
“How do you know who I am or what is in character for me?” She didn’t allow him to reply before continuing, “Knowing me for several weeks doesn’t grant you omnipotence. Nor does it give you the right to judge me.”
“Tell me you want to marry him,” he ordered. When her response wasn’t immediate, Sebastian tipped her chin up, forcing her to face him once more.
Gwen’s tone softened, but only somewhat. “What difference does it make to you? Why must you hear the words?”
Sebastian persisted, “Do you want to marry him?”
“He wants to marry me.” She skirted his question, unable to admit the truth.
“I have no doubt about that,” Sebastian replied, his baritone steady and strong. “I want you, too.”
Gwen blinked, taken off guard by his admission. She slumped against the tree’s trunk as her knees had gone weak, her mind now racing as erratically as her pulse. Sebastian wanted her. It was no admission of love, nor was it a marriage proposal, but still.
He wanted her.
The knowledge should have excited her; instead, Gwen’s heart sank. She wanted him to love her, she realized with a surge of disappointment.
“So, now we have a conflict.” Sebastian’s sensual voice swept over her like waves rushing against the ocean shore. “Two men want you. Let’s see who is better suited for you, shall we? How does Keir kiss you?”
Gwen’s cheeks warmed and her heart began pounding uncontrollably as she recalled Sebastian’s passionate, mind-numbing, senses reeling kisses. Keir’s cold, chaste kiss was nothing in comparison. He didn’t possess Sebastian’s raw masculinity, nor did he rouse the same passion within her; however, she wouldn’t defame her future husband by saying so.
“Keir kisses beautifully,” was all she could manage. By the arch of Sebastian’s brow, Gwen was certain she hadn’t convinced him. How could she?
When Sebastian kissed her he seemed as if he couldn’t get enough of her so she added, “Keir can’t get enough of me.”
Sebastian clenched his fists at his sides. The thought of another man unable to get enough of her infuriated him. Was she telling the truth? He had to know.
He studied her face, searching for a clue in her telling brown eyes. When he’d looked into them at the Stocktons’ ball, Sebastian was certain that he’d seen into her soul. On this afternoon, she kept them well hidden behind her gauzy jade veil.
Could she really want to marry Dunlop? Was he truly such an ardent man? Jealously swept over Sebastian. He would make her forget her fiancé. It was his solemn vow as he embraced her, crushing his lips against hers.
He kissed her passionately, determinedly, not allowing her time to think or back away. His arms encircled her, as if she would belong to him forever.
Gwen leaned against his tall frame, his urgent kiss causing waves of heat to course through her veins. Why did Sebastian’s kisses drive her out of her mind with desire?
She shouldn’t allow his kiss; she must pull away. As if sensing her dilemma, Sebastian wrapped his arms tighter around her.
He then plunged his tongue deeper into her mouth and she was tempted to forget about her fiancé just this once, but her conscience screamed in protest. She couldn’t dishonor Keir in this manner. Even if she didn’t love him and would never be attracted to him.
Gwen squeezed Sebastian’s shoulders, fighting to steady her reeling senses. Guilt reared its revolting head at the thought of her betrothal, her father and her obligations. It was as if she’d been doused with a pitcher of icy water.
Pushing against his chest, she first created space between them then tore her mouth free of his. Averting her eyes from his, she gasped for one breath then another. Sebastian didn’t release her from his impassioned embrace. Although Gwen knew that she should step away, a part of her yearned to remain there for an eternity.
Squeezing her eyes shut, Gwen swallowed audibly. She must have gone insane! There was no other viable explanation for her present state of chaos.
Gwen waited, allowing Sebastian to make a move. When he didn’t, relief flooded her senses. She’d done it! She had given him no choice but to retreat.
She’d won, but at what cost?
Sebastian leaned his forehead against hers. Seconds passed, maybe minutes. He lost track of time.
Why was he incapable of letting Gwen go? Why, after so many years spent closing his heart to the world, did this one woman affect him so? He searched the depths of his soul for an answer.
For many years, she’d been like a sister to him for God’s sake. Why did he lose his mind whenever he was with her? Why did she rob him of his ability to think rationally? He found no answers, just more confusion.
Sebastian wanted so much out of life when he was with her. He wanted Gwen to champion him, to love him, to be devoted to him and he yearned to hear her whisper his name as he made love to her, penetrating her night after blessed night.
Breathless, his heart beat violently within his chest. Because of Gwen, he discovered he had a heart. It had been hidden for too long, ignored for too many years.
No more.
Gwen’s floral perfume intoxicated him, causing Sebastian to recall another perfume, that of his mother’s scented letter – the one he received after her passing. He’d read it so many times, folded and unfolded it, it was now tattered. He knew her words by heart, those words that would be forever etched in his memory.
Someday, dear son, love will find you. I know you don’t believe it now but in time you will see that I’m correct. Please don’t run away from it … trust in love, dear son and, when the time comes, follow your heart.
His mother’s prediction had come true. Sebastian had found the woman he wanted to marry, have a family with, and remain faithful to for the rest of his life.
Dance with Deception: Scandalous Secrets, Book 1 - Exclusive Edition (Scandalous Secrets - Exclusive Edition) Page 7