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

by Rachel Van Dyken

  “Sebastian…” she whispered. He hadn’t let her go, his gaze was immobile.

  “Hmm?” he said.

  “Everyone’s watching.”

  “Of course they are.” He continued to dance as if the music hadn’t stopped.

  “Sebastian,” Emma said, this time a little louder.

  He shook his head as if trying to wake up from a trance and looked around the room. His throat cleared as he blushed nervously, grasped at her hand, and led her to the grand staircase.

  The room was as silent as death.

  Emma figured that even if the room were set on fire, the entirety of the ton would wait for whatever announcement the duke had to make.

  Each step her dainty toes took across the shiny marble staircase resounded like another nail in her coffin, thanks to the vivid picture she had of the duchess crying like a wild woman and chasing her through the streets of London. This wasn’t entirely fair, considering she was such a nice lady, albeit a tad extreme in her methods.

  Emma was sweating by the time a footman handed her a glass of champagne. Her hands shook as she brought the cool bubbly liquid up to her lips. Crowds began gathering at the foot of the stairs, all watching in anticipation for the impending announcement. Did that kiss count as a girl being ruined? Because, although it had been short and sweet, it had nearly brought her to her knees. Kisses like that got girls into compromising situations, and kisses like that made girls forget everything they’d learned in church. Shuddering, she tried to cross her arms with the champagne still in her hands.

  Sebastian lifted his glass. The room was already silent; there wasn’t any need for him to draw more attention. In that moment, he looked every bit the aristocrat he was, and Emma chastised herself again for daydreaming about the man. He was not for her. And she had the unfortunate task of picking out the perfect woman for him.

  “I would like to announce…” Sebastian’s commanding voice took captive the entire room. Even Emma felt faint with anticipation, and she already knew what he was going to say. “…my engagement to Miss Emma Gates!” Glass still raised, he turned and kissed her full on the mouth before she had time to protest.

  The room erupted with shouts of praise, shock, and applause. Emma had no choice but to act pleased with the kiss. It was a warm, inviting, and haunting kiss, which she had no right to enjoy, considering she was not his true fiancée.

  When Sebastian pulled away and winked, Emma took the chance to throw back the entire contents of her flute. Guilt pervaded her when she saw Nicholas frown, so she grabbed for another glass. The nerve of the man! What was his goal, to ruin her for any other man? Even husbands and wives did not engage in such physical affection. Well, most husbands and wives, excluding Nicholas and Sara of course.

  Nicolas glared at her again as she shakily lifted the flute to her lips. He deserved everything he received. After all, this was his fault. If he hadn’t thrown them to the wolves earlier that week, they wouldn’t have to go to such desperate lengths.

  So, Emma threw back the contents of the glass and did a mock curtsy. She heard Nicholas swear before he grabbed her by the arm and led her away from Sebastian, who was already deep in conversation with the duchess. So actually, Nicholas was saving her from having to lie again to the woman who would inevitably be hunting her later in the Season.

  “What?” she snapped, pulling her arm free.

  “What in the—”

  “Language,” Sara scolded, coming along side him.

  “But I didn’t say any—”

  “You were going to.” She patted him on the shoulder and rescued Emma.

  Emma couldn’t stop herself from turning around and sticking out her tongue. Nicholas looked like he was ready to charge after her, but Lady Fenton stood in the way, grasping at the lapels of his coat and pulling him into a joyful hug, obviously pleased with the recent news.

  Once Emma and Sara were safely out of harm’s way, or at least enough out of the way so people wouldn’t disturb their private conversation, Sara asked, “Did you know he was going to kiss you?”

  Emma felt the need to lie.

  “Of course. It was all part of our plan. Brilliant, wasn’t it?” She nervously licked her lips. But it was useless. The sensation of Sebastian’s lips on hers was something her treacherous body would never let her forget.

  “If you say so.” Sara didn’t sound convinced.

  “I do.” Emma flashed a brilliant smile, but felt anything but brilliant. Frazzled? Yes. Confused? Maybe. And dare she admit a little irritated that she had managed to get herself kissed three times by the one man she couldn’t keep. The sooner they were done with the ruse, the better. All she needed to do was survive the house party. How hard could that be?

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sebastian threw himself across his large bed and sighed. Things had gotten out of hand extremely fast. If Emma hadn’t continued to badger him, he would have most likely continued kissing her into oblivion not caring who watched.

  He hadn’t actually ruined her. Had he?

  No, it was just a kiss. Only a soft kiss.

  You enjoyed it.

  He threw a pillow against the wall.

  No I didn’t.

  And now he was arguing with himself. Trying to convince his body it wasn’t completely entranced, trying to cool the blood running like fire through his veins. He wanted her.

  A knock sounded at the door.

  “Sir?” His valet stepped inside the doors.

  “What?” he snapped.

  “A gentleman is here to see you. I put him in the study.”

  “A gentleman? At midnight? Is here to see me? Has Nicholas shot someone I’m not aware of?” Sebastian pushed off the bed, noticing how the corners of his valet’s mouth lifted into an almost smile. Servants were told not to smile, but the angel duke liked to have his happy.

  “Well, best go see what it’s about.”

  The house was dark, all except the light that was still on in the study. He walked in and shut the door.

  “Tempest.”

  “Rawlings.” He sat opposite the man and waited for whatever news he felt the need to bring. “Is there a particular reason you felt the need to come to Renwicks’ home so late into the evening? What is it that could not wait until the normal calling hours?”

  Rawlings grinned. “Oh, your grace, I doubt this news will be better in the day time.”

  “Well?” Sebastian was irritated. “Let’s have it then.”

  Rawlings grinned smugly. It never ceased to amaze Sebastian how much his old friend had changed. They had been best of friends back at Eton. Back before the incident. Rawlings had been the one person Sebastian could rely on, until Sebastian decided to reject all things sinful and selfish, driving a wedge between the two. Sebastian was forever to be known as the angel, leaving Rawlings the appropriate title of demon.

  “It appears there has been some confusion regarding your announcement this night.” Rawlings inspected his perfectly manicured fingernails before adding, “Imagine my surprise when I heard the angel duke was using a young girl for his own advantage. Shocking, don’t you think?”

  Sebastian fought the urge to choke the smug grin right off his face. “Are you threatening me? It's impossible you would be privy to any of that information.”

  “Servants talk.”

  Sebastian cursed aloud. Why hadn’t he thought of that? With the right amount of blunt, it would have been easy to bribe any one of the downstairs maids. Were they not cleaning up the morning meal when Sebastian had made his little announcement?

  Rawlings sneered. “I would never openly threaten you, Tempest.” His tone was mocking. “Do you think me mad? No, I merely wanted to report the news since you plan on leaving first thing in the morning. I wasn’t sure if you would want to make other preparations considering the circumstances.”

  The room darkened along with Sebastian’s mood. “I thank you for your forthrightness and concern.” He stood up and pushed off the le
ather chair. “Now, I shall escort you out.”

  “Of course.” Rawlings scowled. “Wouldn’t want such an unsavory character as myself gracing your doorstep at midnight. What would people think?” Rawlings paused. “She isn’t yours…Not yet.”

  “Leave,” Sebastian ordered.

  Rawlings made his way to the door. Turning, his mocking grin faded and a serious expression replaced it. “It didn’t have to be like this, Seb.”

  Rawlings hadn’t used Sebastian’s first name since that day. For some reason it only fanned the flame, making him more furious with Rawlings for putting him in the positions he had over the years, furious at himself for not pulling Rawlings out of his own pit of despair, and angry that Rawlings would allow himself to go down such a path of destruction. The man was anything but happy. The only thing he had to offer society was his rakish reputation and his title.

  “You chose this, Phillip.”

  Rawlings inclined his head and left. The room was heavy with emotion, some coming from the retreating form of his former friend, but most stemmed from Sebastian’s own heart as he again felt the need to battle old demons.

  The sooner he could put this whole house party business behind him, the better. Emma was plaguing his days, and now, thanks to those glorious kisses, his nights. Rawlings seemed to have something odd up his sleeve, and Nicholas was still trying to get Sebastian to deal with his past as he had so readily dealt with his own.

  In fact, on more than one occasion Nicholas had tried to get Sebastian to talk with him about his past. Men didn’t speak of such things, which Sebastian rudely reminded his friend. But Nicholas kept pressing. Granted, Sebastian had seen a remarkable change in his friend’s attitude toward life, but he himself was not yet ready to deal with things that had happened so long ago, not when more important things were bothering him.

  Like the way Emma’s body felt pressed against his.

  Or the way her eyes challenged him when they talked.

  Or the fact that she—the only woman he wanted in his arms, in his bed—was to be picking from the flock of the ton, trying to find him the perfect wife.

  He let out a bitter laugh. She did not exist.

  But the perfect woman? He had a good idea of the name of the woman who fit that description rather handsomely.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The minute the ducal carriage pulled up to Renwick House, Emma was filled with dread. And so began the count down until the only man she had kissed would soon be engaged to another.

  Aggravated, she pulled off her bonnet, feeling the need to pout just a bit. Nobody ever said life was fair, and Emma’s life had been anything but fair. It was frustrating to think the only men she could pair with were the ones who fell asleep while dancing at the ball or had no teeth to chew their own food. Her mind immediately went to the three gentlemen at the first ball she had attended. Was it rude to wish they would meet their demise sooner rather than later?

  What a terrible thing to think!

  “Emma? What are you doing?” Sebastian came up alongside her and pointed at the bonnet in her hand. “Are you trying to murder your poor bonnet? What did it ever do to you?”

  Releasing it, she let out a nervous laugh. “Yes, well, it was too tight on my head.”

  “Ah, that explains it. Your head is rather large for a woman. Say, do you have special bonnets made?”

  “Ha, ha,” she mocked, and then put out her foot as he tried to walk by her. He barely missed it. Would it be so wrong for the perfect duke to fall flat on his face and get his white breeches dirty?

  Sebastian swore. “Don’t tell me it’s going to be like this the entire way to Rawlings’ estate.”

  “Better than being drooled on by a man twice your age,” Emma mumbled.

  “Excuse me?” Sebastian helped her into the carriage. “I don’t believe I drool, nor am I twice your age.”

  “Not you…the man you’ll most likely choose for me.” Emma crossed her arms and leaned her head against the back of the seat.

  The carriage door closed, leaving the two of them in the tiny space. At least they were sitting opposite of one another.

  “Emma, I have no idea what’s put you in such a mood, but I doubt any men over the age of sixty will be in attendance at Rawlings’ house party He is known for lively events. Men older than thirty might even have a hard time keeping up, if you know what I mean.”

  The carriage jerked into motion, carrying them down the busy street. It seemed to fit that rain began pouring the moment they left London. Emma tried to have a good attitude. She honestly desired to. It was just that every mile they traveled she felt sicker over not spending more time with Sebastian. When had she become so attached?

  When he kissed you.

  When he danced with you.

  Perhaps when he smiled?

  “Stop!” she yelled.

  Sebastian panicked and grabbed her by the wrists. “Emma, what in the blazes is wrong!”

  Emma felt her face flush. “I, uh, hadn’t…meant to say that…out…” She gulped. “Loud.”

  “Dear me, are you so nervous about a tiny house party?” Sebastian’s warm breath fanned her face. She leaned in and nodded.

  He reached his hand out to push her fallen hair away from her face. “Chin up, my dear. You will be just fine, I promise.”

  Closing her eyes, she nodded and imagined what it would be like to have him as hers and only hers.

  And then it hit her, figuratively, that is.

  Why not pretend? Why not enjoy the time they had left? Sebastian would never marry her anyway. Why not try to seduce him to have one time with him as the duchess had suggested? Granted, it was somewhat of a selfish notion, but it would be the only time in her life she could actually feel something for a man. The only time she could trick her heart into believing she would have a happily ever after.

  “Maybe you are right,” she said, flashing him a devastating smile.

  Sebastian’s grin faded. “Are you trying to trick me by placating to my egotistical side? The side which needs to be right regardless of the consequences?”

  Emma’s answer was to shrug and smile. Knowing full well she had his attention, she placed her hand across her chest, directly above the low cut of her gown. Her leather kid gloves felt soft against her skin. If she was trying to seduce herself, she was doing a marvelous job. An uncontrollable shiver ran down her spine as Sebastian’s eyes boldly took her in. Starting where her hand was placed and slowly looking up to meet her eyes. He said nothing.

  Leaning in, he brushed a kiss across her forehead. A sigh escaped her mouth before she could stop it.

  Then his hand carefully cupped the bottom of her chin, thrusting it forward. “If you don’t stop, you will find yourself in a compromising situation and have to marry me. You don’t want that, do you?” Did his eyes have a shred of hope in them? Leaning forward she boldly placed her hand on his chest.

  “I guess that depends, Sebastian.”

  He gulped. “On?”

  “I doubt a compromising situation would do much, that’s all.”

  Sebastian leaned forward. “Emma, a woman’s reputation is everything. It is her currency, all she has in this world, don’t you think?” As he said the words, he leaned dangerously closer.

  Emma wasn’t sure on how to answer, how precisely had she gotten herself into this predicament? The minute her glove came into contact with his chest, she lost all thought. Streaming together a complete sentence seemed foreign to her. And then he had said those awful words. Why did everything come back to reputations?

  Sebastian’s eyes locked on her lips. His vision turned lazily seductive as they nearly closed. And then he very gently pushed her away. The look on his face indifferent.

  Emma flinched, feeling the blow to her pride. She pulled her hand back to the seat of the carriage and held on, allowing the blood to drain from her hand. Maybe she shouldn’t clench the seat so hard. It wasn’t his fault. He had no idea how much his words had s
tung. No thought in his pretty, perfect little head that she was already compromised, already ruined, and utterly imperfect for someone such as himself.

  “Now.” Sebastian leaned back into the seat as if the bloody world hadn’t just turned on its ear and smiled. “If you look at me the way you did a few minutes ago, before I talked some sense into both of us, we’ll do quite well at the house party. But if you glower like you are right now—don’t glare at me, you know you’re pouting—people won’t believe I’m utterly besotted with you.”

  The man had a point. How was she to seduce him if he had the self-control of a saint? The dowager duchess had hinted that it took more than a pretty face and surprise attack to turn him on his ear.

  Rain began pouring even harder onto their carriage. Emma looked out the window before answering. “Fine, but you have to spend time with me.”

  “And what would you call this, my dear?”

  Emma would have liked to throw something at Sebastian, and her eyes darted around their small space looking for an object light enough to make a mark but not kill the smug man.

  Gathering her wits and much needed patience, Emma answered, “Time together, Sebastian, as in we need to be partners during all the games, you must be my escort to dinner, and at the end of every day, we shall go riding together.”

  Sebastian frowned.

  “Riding together so we can share what we’ve learned about our…candidates.”

  “You mean victims.”

  Emma rolled her eyes. “Yes, you are right. Victims, in the sense that they have no idea what’s coming.”

  Sebastian’s grin faded as he eyed her from head to toe. “They don’t stand a chance.”

  Emma ignored his compliment and held out her hand. “Do we have an agreement, your grace?”

  “Agreed.” He took hold of her, hand but refused to let it go. He yanked her closer so their foreheads almost touched. “But we mustn’t let on that we aren’t in love. Nobody must know the truth, or you, my dear, will be absolutely ruined.” His concern was obvious from the seriousness of his voice and the penetrating look he gave her.