Just when he thought things couldn’t get worse, he heard her key turn in its hole.
He stood rooted to the very spot as the absurdity of his situation hit him. No woman had ever rejected him before yet his wife had done just that. Come to think of it, no woman had ever slapped him, let alone slammed any type of door in his face, certainly not a bedroom door!
Muffled sobs came from his wife’s suite, sobering him.
Sebastian placed his palm flat against the wood that separated him and his wife. More than this door separated them, he realized. His own lies separated them and they formed a much stronger, much thicker barrier to cross.
With his hand resting against the door, he stood stock-still, listening to her sobs with a heavy heart, guilt churning within his abdomen.
Minutes passed and Sebastian leaned his back against the door before sliding down to the floor, his head in his hands. Each sob tore at his mangled heart.
What if Gwen doesn’t forgive him? How could he live under the same roof with someone he loved to distraction yet who no longer loved him?
On the other hand, how could he ever live without her?
He had been granted heaven for one brief, shining moment in time and shattered it into a million pieces with his deception.
Sebastian leaned his head against the door until her tears had subsided then pressed his ear to it, listening for any sign of her.
His wife’s room remained silent.
Rising, his posture was limp as he strode downstairs and straight into his study. He reached for the decanter of brandy, pouring himself a large snifter. Upon emptying his first glass in several large swigs, he then poured himself another, swishing the amber liquid back and forth before taking another hefty swallow.
It burned a path down his throat but didn’t offer him any comfort so Sebastian decided to move onto whiskey. Maybe, just maybe, it would dull his pain and ease his guilt if only for a short time.
When it didn’t work either, he knew what to do next.
In no mood for company, Sebastian found himself grateful for the late hour, relishing the fact that he could saddle his own stallion. He then rode through the dewy fog, Gwen’s words haunting him, chasing him through the misty air.
By the time he reached his destination, the sun was lying dormant on the horizon, threatening to burn through the gloomy vapor. He cursed the sun, choosing instead to wallow in the murky darkness that had surrounded him ever since his heartbreaking confrontation with Gwen.
As he rode up the gravel drive to the limestone fortress before him, Sebastian was well aware of the early hour. He was also aware that the mistress of the estate would be awake and in her gardens as it was her ritual to watch the sunrise over her grounds.
She was the sole person who could give him the solace he so desperately sought.
After tying his horse to the post, he walked down the flower-lined path toward the garden. Sebastian knew this estate as well as his own, just as he knew its owner like the back of his hand.
As sure as the rising sun, sitting on a stone bench with a shawl draped over her regal shoulders was his salvation.
“Good morning, Fiona.”
She turned, a loving smile on her face, “Sebastian, my dear. It is wonderful to see you.”
He walked out of the shadows and she rescinded her statement. “No, it would be wonderful if you didn’t look like hell.”
He smiled at the woman’s candor, a trait he always admired in her. “Do I look so atrocious that I don’t get a hug?”
“Come here, dearest.” She wrapped her arms around him in a motherly hug. “Tell me what is wrong.”
Sebastian embraced his mother’s oldest friend. She had always been a constant in his life, a second mother to him, one with white curls bobbing about her youthful face and a heart of pure gold.
Fiona was also one of the very few who would always be honest with him. It was she who sat him down after his mother’s death, urging him to curb his rakish, bachelor ways and be a good guardian to his younger sister. She had foreseen the responsible man he was capable of becoming and helped him to see it, too. Not that he needed much prodding since Victoria had always been his first priority and he would have sacrificed anything to raise her properly.
“Come and sit with me,” Fiona instructed. “You and your bride should still be celebrating your nuptials. What could possibly be troubling you?”
He raked his hands through his hair. Our hearts have been shattered and it is entirely my fault.
“Sebastian, what is it?” Fiona asked, her tone tinged with apprehension.
“I did something I never thought I would do.” His face was a mask of agony. “I fell in love.”
“Yes, I am well aware of that, dear.” She patted his arm. “What else did you do?”
“I deceived her, Fiona. She thought that I was some knight with noble intentions when in fact I was nothing short of duplicitous.”
Fiona remained silent, waiting, he supposed, for him to continue as her curls swayed in the gentle breeze.
“She was betrothed to another man,” he explained. “It was a match created by her father. Gwen didn’t love him.”
“And how did you ensure that she marry you, instead of this other man?” She held his hand within her own.
“You have to understand that the man was wretched and I tried everything to convince Gwen to marry me instead,” he paused, beseeching her to believe him.
Fiona squeezed his hand. “I believe you, dear. Now please continue.”
“Gwen refused to elope with me. She was fearful of the scandal it would bring to Victoria and wasn’t going to marry me even though she refused to marry her father’s choice.”
“What did you do to change her mind, darling?”
He leaned his elbows against his knees, cradling his face in his hands. “I changed her father’s mind by convincing him that she was carrying my child.”
“Oh, dear,” the Dowager Duchess’ tone was dire yet oddly comforting. Instead of judging, her words were laced with understanding.
“I wasn’t going to let her slip away from me, Fiona.” He met her gaze.
“I know, darling boy.” She patted his thigh. “So you told her the truth last night and she didn’t take it well?”
A guttural groan escaped his throat. “I should have told her. I planned on telling her but her father beat me to it yesterday afternoon.”
“Oh, that’s not good.” Fiona shook her head, her curls bobbing back and forth. “How did she react?”
Sebastian stared at the pink and orange-hued sky. “How do you think?”
“I suspect not well as you are sitting here on my bench at this hour completely in your cups,” Fiona rested her head on his shoulder. “What are you going to do?”
I don’t know what to do. It all went downhill from there. I lost my temper and Gwen has completely shut me out.” Sebastian again raked his fingers through his hair.
Fiona’s tone was resolute. “You have no choice but to fight for her. It’s too late to turn back now.”
“What if she never forgives me?” Sebastian’s eyes were clouded with fear.
“She loves you, Sebastian and she will forgive you,” Fiona’s smile was sincere and it filled his heart with hope until she added, “in time.”
His shoulders slumped. “I could have done without the last bit.”
“Yes, well if you wanted someone to humor you, you wouldn’t have arrived at my bench at sunrise.” Fiona tipped her head to the side, offering him a faint smile.
“You know me too well.” Sebastian squeezed her hand.
“I’m not going to lie to you and tell you that winning her trust again will be easy.”
Sebastian’s lips tugged into a grin. “Have you nothing to say that may boost my spirits?”
“No. Now listen to me, Sebastian.” Her faded eyes admonished him. “You will succeed only if you are honest with her from here on out. No more lies, not even a small one. You must pr
ove to Gwen that she can trust you.”
Sebastian released an exasperated sigh. “I had her best interests at heart, Fiona.”
“I do not doubt that, darling. But you must understand. Discovering that the person you believed in above all else has betrayed you strips one of her dignity.”
“Was what I did that bad?” His tone betrayed his confusion. “I saved her from an unwanted marriage, for Christ’s sake.”
“Please don’t blaspheme, dear. Now, lesson number one.” Fiona held up one finger. “No matter how well-meaning the lie is, it’s still a falsehood. Lesson number two,” she raised two fingers before continuing, “you have no idea what her father said to her. He believed that she was carrying your child. He couldn’t have been happy with her.”
Sebastian hadn’t considered that, too wrapped up in himself to think of what else Lachlan had said to his daughter. After all, the man did attempt to kill her.
The memory of Gwen’s father choking the life out of her would forever torture him. Sebastian buried his head in his hands, his words muffled. “How can I ever make this up to her?”
“Come with me.” Fiona stood, taking his hand then motioning toward the grand house. “I must ply you with some coffee before I send you home. Oh, may I suggest a nice bath? You can’t look like this when your wife sees you this morning.”
“What the hell do I say to her?” he asked as he stood.
“Follow your heart, my dear,” Fiona advised as she linked her arm with his.
Sebastian rubbed his jaw. Somehow, it still stung from his wife’s slap. “Following my heart is what got me into this mess.”
By the time Fiona had her carriage drawn to take him home, Sebastian felt ready to take on the world.
As the coach lurched forward, with his stallion leading the pack, Sebastian wracked his brain for the right words to say to his wife.
His heart sank in disappointment. Neither the clip-clop of the horses’ hooves nor the bright day dawning outside the carriage window brought him any closer to an answer.
Answer or no, he had no choice but to confront her once again and never before had so much been at risk. His marriage and Gwen’s love for him were at stake. It wasn’t until now, when he was faced with losing Gwen’s love that Sebastian realized precisely how much it meant to him.
Please God, may it not be too late.
The morning sun rose to find Kellington Manor in a gloomy silence. Everyone seemed to be in sour spirits. The usual hustle and bustle of servants remained subdued, with not one whistling an upbeat tune. Even Molly, Victoria’s rambunctious puppy, seemed to sense the bleak mood that had befallen the estate, for she stayed curled up in the kitchen never once begging for any scraps.
Gwen didn’t get any sleep the night before. Her mind, churning like a rough sea, had kept her awake.
Sometime after she cast Sebastian out of her suite, she decided not to try to rest. Instead, she opened the hatbox that contained her mother’s journals and read the woman’s most private thoughts.
She felt like an unwelcome intruder, reading about a man with whom her mother had fallen in love months before she married Gwen’s father.
Her mother described in detail the many feelings this man had awakened in her. In doing so, Gwen’s heartbeat quickened as she was reminded of the hundreds of sensations her husband had awakened in her, as well.
Sebastian … Gwen was furious with him and hoped to remain such, for if she despised him, she might not have to confront the many sins of her parents or Sebastian’s own accusations, for some rang true. Gwen had idolized him, set unrealistic expectations, and she had underestimated him. He was a man who had succeeded in everything he attempted. What made her think Sebastian would give up wanting her for his wife simply because she told him to do so? Why did it surprise her that he’d use any means necessary?
She cursed her naïveté.
The more her thoughts churned, Gwen uncovered the heart of the matter. She would have married Sebastian even if she’d known about his lie. It would have been easier to accept, though, if he’d told her before their ceremony, before making love to her, before she had given herself completely to him. If he’d done so, she wouldn’t feel as if so much of her trust had been violated.
Gwen traced the spine of a leather-bound journal with her thumbnail. She wondered how many lies her mother and father told each other. How did they ever keep track of them all?
Dawn arose to find Gwen reading another passage from her mother’s diaries.
I don’t know what I expected to happen but I didn’t expect him to remain with his wife. I find myself jealous of what she has. If I had but met him one year earlier, I could have been the Duchess of Davenport.
Gwen found the irony sickening. She now possessed the very title her mother had so desperately sought and her husband was the very child that ruined her mother’s future plans.
The whole situation was debauched! Sighing in in frustration, Gwen glanced at the door that joined her suite with Sebastian’s. Was he awake? Even if he were, what would she say to him?
She raked her hands through her hair then slammed the journal face down against her writing desk. Through the corner of her eye, she caught a folded sheet of paper floating to the floor. Opening it with care, she noted the thick creases that lined the now discolored page.
It was a color drawing of a brown haired woman wearing a bronze gown. The sight chilled her. If Gwen didn’t know better, she’d think it was her own portrait. Her father’s words haunted her:
You are her mirror image.
Gwen stared at a portrait of her mother and a myriad of questions barraged her brain like an icy torrent. Who drew this? Was it possible her mother had more than one lover? Why would she keep a portrait of herself in her own journals?
Enough of this!
Crossing the room, Gwen stared at the bright orange flames still dancing alight in the grate then tossed the drawing into the fire, studying it as it disintegrated before her eyes. If only her mother had been wise enough to destroy her own journals before they haunted her children.
Her drapes were still open and Gwen noted with relief that the sun had already begun to rise. Instead of ringing for Jane, Gwen thought it best to don her riding habit alone, in desperate need to avoid polite conversation as an onslaught of memories laced with lies and half-truths assaulted her. Once prepared, she then stalked out of her bedchamber before arriving at the barn and instructing a stable hand to prepare her horse.
She didn’t ride to run from her pain, nor did she attempt to escape from the many lies she’d uncovered.
Instead, she rode in search of a solution.
Sebastian arrived home and marched straight towards his wife’s suite. He knocked once and when there was no response, he knocked a second time.
Nothing but suffocating silence answered him. Bolstered by Fiona’s advice, he walked into Gwen’s suite only to find it unoccupied.
He glanced at the clock on the mantle. It was much too early for her to be gone. His gaze drifted to her bed and he noted it was still the in same condition as when he’d left her room the night before.
She hadn’t slept there.
He strode to his wife’s writing desk to see if she left a note and found something he never expected – a journal, lying face down on the desk. Well aware that it would violate his wife’s trust if he were to read it, he did so anyway. If it gave him a clue as to where she went, surely his actions were justified?
Quickly noting that the fluid handwriting in the journal didn’t belong to Gwen, Sebastian read several passages before discerning that his wife’s mother had written it and she described some great love. How any woman could feel that sense of emotion for Lachlan MacAlistair was beyond Sebastian’s comprehension, but he read on.
His son, his heir, is a year old today. Since he has his dear Sebastian, he has no need for the child I am carrying.
“Dear God in Heaven,” Sebastian blinked, in an attempt to focus his blurr
ed vision until the fluid script was again legible.
I don’t know what I’ll do next. My child can’t suffer from my mistake. I must find a father for the life that grows within me.
Mind reeling, Sebastian steadied himself by sitting behind the writing desk, pressing his fingertips against his throbbing temples.
Colin is my half-brother. The realization winded him, as if he’d been punched in the gut. All this time, Colin was his brother and he never knew it.
Sebastian tried to assimilate all he had learned. His father’s indiscretions began much earlier than his mother had suspected. He remembered the note his mother left him upon her death. What had his mother said? Your father wasn’t always the man you knew. When we were first married, he was loving and faithful. The former Duchess of Davenport never knew that her husband’s illegitimate son lived on a bordering estate.
Certainly, the world has gone utterly insane, Sebastian thought, struggling to understand the magnitude of the truths described in this journal. It then dawned on him that Gwen’s suffering must equal his if not outweigh it. First she discovered that her husband lied both to her and about her, then learned sordid details about a mother she loved dearly.
Little had he known that his wife’s world had been sent reeling off its axis the day before and he had done nothing to alleviate her suffering.
Sebastian set the diary down upon the writing desk where he found it and went in search of his wife. He would offer his support, whether she wanted to accept it or not.
By the time Gwen returned to the stables, it was well past two.
Sebastian stood, petting a black mare. The creature whinnied as she scratched the dirt underneath her hooves.
“Where have you been?” Sebastian asked in a tone one would use when speaking to a child.
Gwen resented his condescension and returned it two-fold. “I’ve been riding. One usually does that with a …” Gwen pointed to her mare before articulating the word “horse.”
A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to sound so—”
Dance with Deception: Scandalous Secrets, Book 1 - Exclusive Edition (Scandalous Secrets - Exclusive Edition) Page 21