The Seduction of Sebastian St. James (House of Renwick)

by Rachel Van Dyken

  “Hmm, would that be the same tadpole pond where Samuel found a frog? The same frog he set loose in church?”

  The duchess smirked. “I can neither deny nor acknowledge I had any part in that.”

  Welbourne rolled his eyes.

  “Anyway, my dear, I know you’re a cousin to Sara, whom I also adore. And I’ve heard so many good things, my dear, so many things. I also know of your parents. I think you’d be perfectly suited for my grandson. In fact, I decree that you shall seduce him by any means possible. I’ll even send Welbourne out to catch you in a compromising embrace.”

  “Unfortunately, her grace isn’t bluffing.” Welbourne took a long sip of champagne and shook his head. “Oh the things the Duchess of Tempest has done.”

  The duchess scoffed. “Silence, Welbourne, do you want to scare her? Run along then.” Heavily jeweled hands pushed her toward the dance floor, toward Sebastian.

  Emma was powerless to stop her feet from moving forward. She turned back to the duchess, hoping she would call for her return. Instead she yelled, “And good luck, my dear! You’ll need it!”

  Emma’s leaden legs drew her up to the side of the Duke of Tempest. Closing her eyes, she lifted her hand to tap him on the shoulder. He was going to think she was mad. How did one explain to someone that his grandmother was missing the sane parts of her mind?

  He didn’t turn around. She tapped him again, this time more insistently.

  He still didn’t move.

  Drat the man! She stomped on his foot and grabbed him.

  A hush went across the ballroom.

  Of course.

  What had made her think it would be even minutely socially acceptable to grab a duke by the shoulders? Especially one as single and powerful as the Duke of Tempest? Maybe she was the one with the missing marbles.

  “Yes?” he asked, turning the full force of his power on her.

  Knees shaking, she met his glare.

  “I wish to speak with you.”

  People began whispering. It couldn’t get worse.

  And then...

  “Well, my boy, don’t just stand there! Dance with the girl!” The duchess’s voice boomed across the room. Emma felt her face heat. Why, oh why had she listened to the old crone?

  Sebastian, a bit taken aback, nodded in his grandmother’s direction and took Emma’s hand.

  “You’ve managed to charm the old bag, hmm?” he whispered, putting his other hand on her back. “It’s often compared with snake charming. I’m quite impressed. Do you also do little gypsy dances and parade around in nothing but bangles on your wrists and, God forbid, your ankles? I think I should like to see that.”

  Emma, stunned into silence, began shaking. Mumbling an apology, she pushed away from him and ran out of the ballroom. Again leaving the entire ton in an uproar. She had managed to snag and abandon the most eligible duke in society in the span of two minutes.

  ****

  Sebastian stood in the middle of the dance floor utterly deserted. He hated scandal and he hated pity. Women across the room had their mouths gaping open in shock, several others pretended to faint. His grandmother, the one person he expected to be outraged, had the audacity to laugh out loud and then walk off with Welbourne.

  He had never been rejected before. How was he to respond? Was he to laugh it off? Normally he wouldn’t care, but it had seemed he had offended Emma or frightened her nearly out of her wits.

  Swallowing his pride, he followed her out, amidst the growing whispers of him being love sot. He wanted to tell them to bloody mind their own business, but he knew it would just fan the flame.

  Pushing through the front entrance, he scanned the streets for any sign of her. Nothing greeted him except blackness and the sick feeling he had done irreparable damage to his and Emma’s relationship.

  What was he thinking? Relationship? Is that what they were in? He ran his hands through his hair and decided to walk back to Renwick House. It was just down the block, and he needed time to think.

  Suddenly the ball didn’t seem at all the place he wanted to be. What he wanted was to find Emma and tell her he was sorry for whatever he said to upset her. He had been joking. She had to know that. He always joked!

  He arrived at the front door of Renwick House exhausted and without a trace of Emma.

  By the time he was ready for bed, he felt as if he had lived a thousand lifetimes. He would talk with Emma in the morning to see if he could fix whatever he’d done wrong. After all, women loved it when powerful men dropped down on one knee and begged.

  And then...

  “That’s it!” he yelled, hitting his pillow.

  A smile cracked at the corners of his mouth. He was brilliant. It wouldn’t shock him at all if they erected statues in his honor, his plan was that clever. He knew exactly how he would handle this.

  Nicholas is going to shoot me, he thought happily and closed his eyes.

  ****

  “Of all the stupid things I could have done!” Emma yelled once she got in her bedroom. Sara sat and listened but appeared to be anxious to meet her husband for the evening. Married life must be something worth looking forward to if Sara was so eager to share her husband’s bed.

  “I abandoned him. In front of the entire ton. I ran away!” Emma put her head in her hands and groaned. “I shall never live this down, and he shall never let me forget it!”

  “Oh, stop. We both know the duke isn’t one to hold grudges. If anything he probably found it amusing. He deserves to be brought down a few notches anyway. Nobody should be blessed with perfect looks. Nicholas himself needed humbling. Just look at how little Samuel drives him to madness.”

  “True.” Hesitantly Emma picked up her hairbrush. “I just don’t want to cause him any trouble.”

  “That should be the least of your worries, Emma. He’s a duke, after all. People would want him if he were missing all his teeth and an arm.”

  Too bad he wasn’t missing an arm or all of his glorious teeth. At least then Emma could have a decent conversation with the man without wanting to kiss him or touch his broad shoulders or feel the heat of his skin burning beneath his shirt.

  “Are you hot?” Sara asked. “You look flushed. Are you coming down with something?”

  Lust, crystal blue eyes, full lips. “No, nothing at all. I’m just tired.” Emma said her goodnights to Sara and tried to close her eyes. Sleep would be difficult after such an eventful night.

  Chapter Seven

  The following morning as Sebastian walked downstairs, he had the sneaking suspicion he would be grinning all day. His plan was perfect. By the time he reached the room where everyone would be breaking their fast, he still couldn’t wipe the smug smile off of his face. Nor could he get the vivid picture of what Emma would look like with her hair down out of his thoughts. All velvet and red splayed across white linen. He cleared his throat and shifted. He must not think of such things, considering he was staying in the same house as her.

  But the things he would do.

  He should get a hold of himself, or jump in a cold lake.

  Anything to take away the spurts of lust that would not leave his mind and his body alone for one second.

  She was just a woman. An appendage, a means to an end.

  Calming himself and shifting his thoughts to the plan ahead, he walked into the room and grabbed a plate. The women were seated on one side of the table sipping coffee. Naturally, Nicholas was brooding in the corner. And why wasn’t he surprised to see young Samuel with his arms crossed in the opposite corner? And was that chocolate on Nicholas’s face? He opened his mouth to ask but closed it when Nicholas glared at him and gave a stern shake of his head. Apparently it had already been an eventful morning. Poor Nicholas was going to lose his head.

  Nicholas motioned for Sebastian to take a seat while he wiped his face with a napkin. His expression was glum as he lifted a curious eyebrow. “What has you in such a jolly mood this morning? Didn’t a certain young lady run away from you
last night?”

  All eyes shifted to Emma. The blush on her face was magnificent. “I didn’t do it on purpose, Sebastian. You have to believe me, I—“

  “You two are on a first name basis now?” Nicholas looked shocked.

  Sebastian loved it.

  “Well, we uh…” Emma shot Sebastian a pleading look.

  “Actually,” he said, saving her. “My little announcement has a lot to do with what happened last night.” Sebastian took a seat, then thought better of it and jumped up, causing Nicholas to spill his tea and curse.

  “Get on with it.” Nicholas gritted his teeth as he poured himself another cup.

  “I’m proposing marriage.”

  At that Sara jumped up from her chair and clapped her hands. “Oh and so soon! Do tell us, who have you set your sights on?”

  Emma piped in. “Yes, do tell us, your grace. What lucky girl has managed to turn your pretty little head?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm, making Sebastian even more elated.

  “I thought it would have been apparent after last night.”

  “Last night?” Nicholas repeated, looking to Sara for some sort of help.

  “Last night,” Sebastian declared with his hand over his heart.

  Emma shifted nervously on her feet, sending Nicholas a shrug of guilt. Sara did the same, causing an abrupt smile to erupt on Sebastian’s face.

  “Well, I decided it should be done at once. I want to make my intentions clear that I, Sebastian, Duke of Tempest, wish to court and marry Miss Emma Gates.”

  Nicholas threw his cup into the fire. Sara clapped her hands, and Emma’s eyes squinted into an obvious fury.

  “Oh, brilliant! You’re going to give my husband an apoplexy!” Sara said, gathering a livid Nicholas in her arms.

  “Doesn’t that only happen to women?” Emma said cheekily.

  “I thought so,” Sebastian answered, shaking his head.

  “He’s probably going to shoot you now,” said Emma.

  “Where’s my pistol!” Nicholas confirmed, lunging for Sebastian. Sebastian knew his friend better than he knew himself and moved out of the way, causing Nicholas to fall on his face and curse yet again.

  “I trust you have an explanation or plan for this, Sebastian,” Emma whispered on his right, her lips almost brushing his ear.

  A jolt of awareness shot through him. Dampening his arousal, he turned toward her and winked. “Always, my dear, always.”

  Sebastian knelt down next to Nicholas and handed him the handkerchief from his pocket, dabbing the pretend sweat that had furrowed at Nicholas’s brow. “Now listen here, old friend. I’m doing you a favor.”

  “Tread carefully,” Sara murmured, taking her seat. Emma was close behind.

  “And how are you doing me a favor?” Nicholas slapped Sebastian’s hand away and crossed his arms, mimicking Samuel perfectly.

  “First of all, she won’t have dozens of dandy fools buzzing around the manor vying for her affection. Something you promoted at the ball last night, by the way. Not that I’m pointing fingers.” He pulled up his coattails and sat on the nearest chair. “Second—”

  “Oh, just spit it out! Did you compromise her? Have you ruined her beyond repair? Must I have a chat with her parents about your inability to leave young virgins alone?”

  Emma’s head snapped to attention.

  Sebastian groaned as he watched all the color drain from her face. The poor thing was probably eternally mortified. Most young innocent girls would be when their innocence was openly questioned and discussed by men.

  “Nicholas, that is quite enough!” Sara snapped, leaping from the chair.

  Sebastian’s eyes widened in shock. He’d never seen Sara yell. Ever.

  “She isn’t ruined, is she, your grace?” Her questioning gaze seemed to pierce through to his black soul. Had she known the types of thoughts that had occupied his mind all night and early this morning? Could she see through the ruse of this proposal?

  Clearing his throat, he began to speak. “Before I was rudely interrupted, I was going to explain I believe it would be best for Emma and me to pretend to be betrothed. That way it will be easier for both of us to choose a proper mate. A mate who won’t be crawling and fawning all over us, as they will be today. In fact, I was hoping I would wake in time to greet the lot of them. My guess is they are all probably outside fixing their hats and flowers just waiting to knock at the acceptable hour. And please don’t even get me started about the condition at my house. Why just this morning I had a girl try to sneak in my window. She could have fallen. Or worse, been caught in my bedroom sealing my bachelor days for good. I just received the post this morning from my valet. I’m surprised he didn’t shoot anyone.”

  “My heart bleeds.” Emma’s dry voice gave warning of her feelings about his brilliant plan.

  He decided a different strategy was needed. “Think of it this way, Emma. We can help each other find possible mates all the while skipping the dancing.” He swaggered in her direction, stopping only inches from her face. Leaning down he whispered, “Wouldn’t you rather spend your evenings throwing grapes at the people walking by? Pretending to be madly in love, positively entranced by one another, yet having no commitment beyond the ruse we are creating? Why, it would be positively adventurous. Weren’t you just saying how you desired adventure? The wind in your face?” He twisted a piece of hair that had fallen across her cheek and placed it behind her ear.

  If he didn’t watch it he was going to arouse more than Emma with his speech. Thinking he had fully made his point, he gazed into her eyes.

  Boldly she stared right back. Lifting her hand to her lips, she let out a little sigh. His confidence wavered as he watched the air slowly leave her mouth dizzying him with the cool sensation that she had been drinking a minty tea.

  He opened his mouth to speak but was silenced by her hand.

  “It seems you’ve thought of everything.”

  He gulped.

  “It’s not every day a duke waltzes into breakfast and proposes fake marriage. Why, I’m so elated I’m nearly speechless! And to think, we get to share the adventure together. Day and night, though I’d like to say I’m more excited about those nights.” Her voice took a seductive dip as her hand fell down his chest provocatively sweeping over his abdomen. “I accept your offer. If you do me one favor.”

  “What’s that?” he croaked, not at all sure he wanted to know.

  “I get to choose your bride. And in return, you can choose my husband. I don’t want this little transaction to sidetrack either of us. I’m not finished yet,” she said as he opened his mouth to speak. “Furthermore, I would like to propose that if we aren’t engaged by the end of eight weeks, our punishment is we must marry each other. I think that should hurry things along, don’t you?”

  “What a splendid idea!” Sara gasped, breaking the spell. Nicholas was staring at them as if they had both lost their minds. Sara was clasping her hands over her chest in pure bliss. Something was seriously wrong with this picture.

  “I uh…” Sebastian struggled for words.

  “You do like adventure don’t you, your grace?”

  “Agreed.” He held out his hand and grasped hers tightly before whispering in her ear. “I hope you know what you’re in for.”

  “No, your grace, I hope you know.”

  Chapter Eight

  “It’s settled!” Sara announced the next morning as she took a seat by the fireplace.

  Everyone looked in her direction. Sebastian wondered if Nicholas had spiked his wife’s tea. Why else would she be looking so chipper? Blast, it was hot in that sitting room. Adjusting his cravat, he looked to Emma who seemed to be thinking along the same lines, if the tight-lipped expression told him anything.

  All of them had been pouring over ways to announce their betrothal without anyone getting suspicious. The only plan set forth was they would announce their engagement at the upcoming ball, deterring the hopefuls from continuing to visit Renwick House
.

  The rest of the day had been miserable after Sebastian’s announcement. If Emma hadn’t been convinced that morning of his brilliant plan, surely she was now. Several young men wrote poems, others confessed undying love, and three suspicious men with gout arrived just to stare, although one did fall asleep. Yes, all they needed was an environment where he and Emma could find potential mates. An environment that London was not turning out to be.

  “And just what exactly is settled, m’dear?” Nicholas, ever brooding and angry, began pacing. Something Sebastian knew Sara found wildly irritating. It always made him seem so much more menacing. She hated reminders of his past, or so Nicholas had told him at Whites that morning when Nicholas had thought it would be a good idea to, yet again, list the many positive reasons marriage would suit him. He also carried a list, yes, a list of women he thought Sebastian would find charming. Naturally, Emma was nowhere to be found on that list.

  Wonder of all wonders.

  “Nicholas.” Sara’s glare turned steely.

  Emma smirked at Sebastian as he gave Nicholas a smug grin as if to say, “Don’t you have your hands full with your own life? Why obsess over mine?”

  “Nicholas, stop pacing.” Sara rose from her seat and clapped her hands. “I have found the most wonderful solution to your problem, Sebastian!”

  Sebastian groaned aloud. “Forgive me for not jumping up and down in elation. Do continue.” He motioned for Sara to keep talking as she glared at him then back at Nicholas, who had begun pacing again. The poor man was going to wear a hole in their new Persian rug.

  “The Rawlings’ house party, of course!”

  “No!” The three of them jumped up and yelled at the same time. Sara looked at them like they had lost their minds.

  “No?” Sara said.

  “No,” Emma repeated. “His house is next to my family’s country estate.”

  The last remark gave Sebastian pause. Why wouldn’t the girl wish to visit her own parents? Hadn’t she been living with them all this time? He didn’t want to argue with her, however, because the last thing he wanted was to visit Rawlings. The two men were no longer friends, and Sebastian refused to socialize with him. Rawlings’ name alone was tainted by so much scandal that Sebastian wanted to stay far away from him. It didn’t help that Rawlings had looked at Emma as if she were some kind of delicious morsel to eat rather than a woman. It wouldn’t surprise him in the least if Rawlings set his cap for her. What man wasn’t thinking that exact thing? A wealthy, beautiful woman?