Earl of Destiny

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Earl of Destiny Page 15

by K. J. Jackson


  “I had a home once, Brianna. A true home. Father, mother, older brother.” He stopped, downing the remainder of the glass, and then looked at her. “You know we were on the continent, in the wars together, Rowe and I?”

  “Yes.”

  “When we came back to England, I stepped off the ship, expecting my family. Someone. Every man around me was greeted by someone. Mothers, sisters, children, fathers, cousins. Someone. Tears. Hugs. Laughter.” He shrugged. “But there was not a soul for me. It had been years, yes, since I had been on English soil, but there was no one. So I made my way to our townhouse, expecting to find them there, at least my parents—it was in the middle of the season, and they never missed the season. But the place was empty—only a maid I had never met.”

  Brianna’s right hand silently joined her left on his thigh, giving the slightest caress.

  Sebastian’s eyes closed, his head shaking. “A complete stranger—a nervous girl with a lisp and a twitchy eye—was the one to tell me my father was dead and that my brother had died in the war.”

  “Your brother? But he was heir to the earldom, he would not have been allowed near the fighting.”

  “No. No he was not. He was never supposed to leave England. But that would not have stopped Robert. He came after me and then died on the continent, and I never even knew he was killed—a full year passed, and I never knew.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “Our father was dying—consumption—and my mother sent Robert to find me. My father wanted to see me, and Robert was going to give him that. He was never supposed to be near any battles. Never in harm’s way.”

  His eyes drifted to the fire. “It was stupid—he died in some skirmish over a bridge that meant absolutely nothing to either side. He was only a day behind me.” Sebastian drew in a shaking breath. “One day. And I never even knew.”

  “What happened to Robert is not your fault, Seb.”

  His look snapped to her. “No? My mother would disagree. She never wanted me to leave in the first place. Begged me not to go. But I was the second son and I had so much to prove.” His voice slowed. “Such a need to carve out my own way. She begged, and begged, and begged. But I left. When I found her at our estate in Suffolk, she blamed me for all of it. For leaving, for Robert’s death. Even for my father’s—his will to live deserted him after Robert died. All of it was my fault. She made me very well aware of that fact, and then demanded I leave and never come back.”

  “But it has been years since you returned, surely—”

  “She still refuses to see me. I have made the attempt several times. The last time I saw her…there was so much hate. She once loved me—adored me—she would have done anything for me. But the last time—there was nothing there—nothing but hate.”

  Brianna’s hands tightened on his leg. “But it is not right—you lost so much and then for her to blame you for all of it—it is unfathomable unfairness.”

  “Unfair? I was the selfish one. I was the one that left. So I have come to accept it as a cruel twist of fate that I am of the living, after everything I survived in the war, and they are of the dead. I have had to.”

  He set the empty glass down next to him on the bench before looking to her. “Do you not see, Bree? I had everything. A family that loved me. A home. A mother that adored me. A proud father. A brother that was my partner in everything. And gone. Just like that” —he snapped his fingers— “gone. Everything I was. Everything I knew and loved. Gone.”

  A tear slipped from the corner of Brianna’s eye, sliding down her cheek. Sebastian watched it, wanting to wipe it away but afraid to touch her.

  Unable to watch his pain reflected in her face, his eyes moved to the fireplace to stare at the dancing flames. “So I left. I started moving and have not stopped. And I have never wanted a home since then. Never wanted to settle in one place. Never wanted a wife.”

  He had to force his eyes to leave the glowing embers and look Brianna.

  “Not until you, Bree. Not until you.”

  Her blue eyes solid on him, she took a deep breath. “And I asked you why you ran from Notlund. I am so sorry, Seb. I did not know.”

  “I could not stay and chance you hating me, Bree. So I left. It was all I could think to do.”

  “No. No more.” Her hand went to his cheek, her palm rubbing along the stubble. “I understand. I do.”

  Her hand dropped from his face and she went to her feet. For a moment, Sebastian thought she would leave the room. Leave him. But then she turned to him, pulling up the middle of her skirts as she brought her leg up, straddling him. She settled onto his lap, her shins on the bench as she scooted forward until her chest was touching him.

  Both of her hands came up, capturing his face, her clear blue eyes intense on him. “I understand. But do not leave me like that again, Seb. Ever.”

  He gave her one nod. “I will not.”

  She leaned forward, her lips meeting his. Her mouth opened to him without any provocation, her tongue slipping out, melding with his. Her lips sweet, he took her, hungry, needing to feel her, be part of her, be more than just himself.

  Her hands dropped from his face and Sebastian grabbed her about the waist, thinking she was to escape him. But she made no motion to stop the kiss, instead, stripping off her riding jacket and setting loose the pearl buttons down the front of her silk habit shirt.

  Her hands busy, she did not leave his mouth, deepening the kiss, taking his lips between her teeth, teasing with her tongue. His hands moving along her back, Sebastian helped her shirt disappear and shimmied down her short stays and chemise, freeing her chest.

  Brianna leaned forward, her fingers wrapping around his head as she offered her right breast to his mouth, her voice heated. “Kiss me, Seb. Here. Everywhere.”

  He needed no further invitation, taking her nipple into his mouth, harsh, ravaging with every breathless rumble from her chest. One nipple satisfied, he moved to the other, continuing the onslaught. Her fingers deep in his hair, she held him fast, hard to her skin as her hips gyrated on his lap.

  The sudden hand around his cock stunned him. He hadn’t even noticed Brianna unbuttoning his breeches.

  Hard, straining for her, he let her fingers move along him for a few glorious seconds before he pulled away from her chest, realizing they had already gone too far.

  He looked up at her face, her lips, red and bruised, her blue eyes smoldering as she looked down at him. Her hair had come undone, the long glossy curls falling around his head, hiding them from the world.

  “Not here, Bree.”

  “Here.”

  “The door—”

  “Did I mention I locked it?”

  A smile, straight from the bowels of debauchery crossed his face. “Temptress.”

  “Yes.”

  She curled down to him, her mouth capturing his just as she lifted her skirts and her hand guided him through her folds, deep into her.

  Sebastian nearly exploded at the tightness surrounding him, but he held. This was far too delicious to end overly soon.

  She pulled up, tugging at his shirt, pulling it over his head. It gave him just enough time to gain control of his body. He wasn’t about to let Brianna have all the control, to leave her unsatisfied.

  Her hands going to his chest, she lifted herself, then slid down slowly on him. Twice more, and her head fell back, deep moans exhaling from her chest.

  Sebastian grabbed a nipple in his teeth, rolling his tongue on it as he yanked up on her skirts, finding his way through the cloth to her skin. Fingers splaying along her hip, his thumb went inward, diving to her core, circling the nubbin.

  A scream, and her body convulsed at the touch. Sebastian gave a savage chuckle. His thumb sped.

  But Brianna was not about to go easily. She looked down at him, challenge in her blue eyes as she increased her own pace, gliding up and down. Harsh, demanding with every stroke. Taking him to the edge of abandon and then thrusting downward.

  Grit
ting, his muscles—his entire being—demanding release, he reached up with his free hand, grabbing the back of her neck. He pulled her down into him, his tongue invading her mouth, making her succumb, his thumb forcing her body to twist, agonized above him.

  She could only fight it for another moment, and then she broke, tearing her mouth from his as her restraint vanished. Her muscles contracted as her core tightened around him, drawing him long and solid, even farther into her body.

  Control instantly lost, Sebastian growled, coming deep within her, unable to tell his own racking spasms from hers.

  Gripping Brianna’s back, he pulled her down tight, captive on his chest. Not letting her limp body move from his, he forced her to ride the last unrestrained waves of his contractions, feel every bit of what she had done to him.

  What she could do to him.

  What she could make him feel.

  His lips fell onto the top of her head.

  Damn if he wasn’t falling completely in love with his wife.

  Chest heaving, he didn’t move for long minutes. Didn’t let her move for long minutes. Not that she tried.

  Minutes, hours—enough time for the fire to die down to embers—Sebastian wasn’t sure how much time passed as he sat there, sated and in silence. Brianna in his arms and that one thought running through his head. Coming to uneasy terms with that one thought.

  Uneasy, because he knew too well the pain of losing happiness. Losing what he loved. He had trusted fate, trusted that Brianna and he were meant to be together. But love. He had not anticipated that.

  And if he dared to let himself love her…

  The sudden thought of losing her cut deep into his chest. His hold tightened around her back.

  She rustled, turning her head, her lips settling onto the skin of his chest.

  “I thought you were asleep.”

  “No.” Her voice came up to him, soft, lazy. “Thinking.”

  “Of?”

  It took her a long moment to speak. So long, he almost wondered if she had fallen back asleep. “Where do you put your pain, Seb? All that happened to you. All you lost. What do you do with the pain?”

  The question startled him. His hand went to the back of her head, fingers trailing down her hair. “I honestly do not know, Bree. It has never caught up to me. Not until now.”

  She kissed his skin, then tilted her face up to him. “Do you wish the pain gone—wish it bad enough to leave, banishing it to the wind behind you once more?”

  “No. I will take it, Bree. If this is my destiny—if you are my reward. I will take it. Gladly.”

  ~~~

  Brianna hurried up the circular stone stairwell at Notlund to her sister’s room on the third floor. According to the first maid Brianna had encountered, Lily was supposedly dressing for dinner.

  She slipped into Lily’s room, only to be greeted with the usual mayhem that accompanied Lily’s change of clothing. Dresses piled high upon the bed, a rainbow of silk and lace. A harried maid running about the room. Lily barking out orders for her hair, accessories, and the next dress she needed to try on before she would be fit to be seen.

  And this was just a simple dinner.

  Brianna closed the door quietly behind her back, smiling to herself. People thought she was the controlling one—but they had never witnessed this scene. Lily’s maids would have a far different story to tell.

  In her stays and shift, her sister spun at the sound of the door clicking. “Bree, you are back—thank goodness.”

  “We just arrived. Is something amiss? Lord Bepton’s visit is not going well?”

  “Bepton?” Her sister looked momentarily confused, then waved her hand in the air. “No, nothing to do with Lord Bepton—he is well and settled. No, I have been waiting for you. There was a letter.”

  Lily looked over at her maid digging through a box of ribbons. “Prudence, can you please excuse us? I need to speak with my sister in private.”

  “Of course, miss.” The maid scurried out of the room.

  Before the maid closed the door, Lily was across the room, opening the top drawer of a walnut inlaid desk, digging into the far back corners. She pulled out a folded piece of thick paper, the black seal on it broken.

  “It was for you, but I took it.” Clutching the letter, her sister walked to Brianna. “I am sorry, but I did. I thought it might be a missive about Lord Newdale and I was not about to let you interfere. And then once I read it, I had to hide it.”

  Brianna’s eyes narrowed at her sister. “You stole a letter meant for me? That is not like you, Lils, to sneak about. We may have argued about Lord Newdale, but for you to—”

  “Stop. Never mind all of that, Bree.” She flung the paper into Brianna’s hands. “You have to read the letter. We can discuss at a different time how disappointed you are in me.”

  Lily’s frantic agitation stopped Brianna from her scolding, and she looked down at the letter, quickly scanning the short note.

  The blood draining from her face, she reread it three times before Lily interrupted her thoughts.

  “Who is Mr. Flemming, Bree? What was he investigating and why is he reporting that a Mr. Welbury is dead? Who is Mr. Welbury?”

  Brianna’s legs went soft, and she swayed, but she forced herself to stand in place. She couldn’t scare Lily.

  She looked up to her sister, a wooden smile on her face. “It is nothing to concern you, Lily.”

  “I do not believe you.” Lily’s arms folded over chest. “A man is dead, Bree. Tell me this instant who Mr. Welbury is.”

  Brianna looked down, folding the note carefully along its original lines. It only gained her a few seconds. She met Lily’s accusing stare. “It concerns the one thing I will not talk about, Lils. And I will tell you no more. Nor can you speak of this note to anyone.”

  Lily stepped to her, grabbing her forearm. “What are you doing, Bree? You said the past was the past and we were to not think of it. Not speak of it. Never again.”

  “I will tell you no more, Lily.” Brianna twisted her arm free and stepped backward. “And you can be as angry with me as you need to be. But no more. I am doing this to protect you. That is all you need to know.”

  Brianna spun, going to the door before Lily could continue her assault.

  “But who will protect you, Bree?” Lily’s words trailed her into the hallway.

  Eyes closed, Brianna clicked the door shut.

  She had no answer for the question.

  { Chapter 13 }

  She had known this day would come for long time.

  That no matter how long she waited, no matter how she would try to forget, no matter that she prayed him dead, he would show himself again. Gregory.

  It was almost a relief. Almost.

  The first ray of light appeared along the edge of the draperies, and Brianna slid to the edge of the bed, slipping out from under Sebastian’s bare arm over her belly.

  She had debated all night about whether she would try to sneak out from Notlund without him knowing, or whether she would tell him of her plans. Neither side winning, she tiptoed across the room, leaving it up to fate to decide.

  If he awoke, fine, but she wasn’t going to go out of her way to startle him from sleep.

  Her breath held, she set her fingers on the doorknob, turning it slowly, pulling, waiting for the squeak that always started when the door swung.

  “Is it a ride this morning, or do you have other questionable plans afoot?” Sebastian’s sleepy voice cut through the dark room.

  Her held breath escaped. Relief, or something very similar, filled her. She closed the door, going back to the bed, her fingertips tapping the edge of the coverlet.

  “I do not want you to worry, so I will tell you. I have a meeting with Mr. Flemming near Pepperton again.”

  Sebastian sat up in the bed. “Why did you not tell me? I am coming with.”

  “It is not necessary, Seb. It is a simple meeting, just like the one before.”

  “I am not
about to let you go by yourself, Bree. I think you know that.”

  “I have made this trip a number of times, Seb, I will be fine.”

  He pushed the coverlet from his waist, swinging his naked legs off the side of the bed. “Think of it as me just accompanying you on a ride, then.”

  “You will let me speak to Mr. Flemming in private?”

  Even in the dim light, Brianna could see the lines on his forehead appear as he looked up at her. “Why would you need to speak to him in private, Brianna?”

  “Accompanying me on a ride is just that—a ride, Seb. I would welcome that. But my dealings with Mr. Flemming are private—my business—and I would like it to remain so.”

  Sebastian rubbed his forehead, his hand moving along his scalp to scratch the back of his head. He sighed. “As it is still well before the roosters are even roused, I do not have the mind to argue with you. But I will accompany you. That is not to be negotiated.”

  Brianna nodded, silent.

  Relief. It was definitely relief she felt.

  ~~~

  Three hours later, Brianna stepped through the doorway to the abandoned mill, tugging closed the half-attached door, awkwardly lifting it to wedge it into place.

  Ignoring Mr. Flemming standing in the middle of the room, she walked straight to a small slit in the far stone wall, peeking through it, searching until she found Sebastian. Leaning on a tree, staring at the stone structure, he didn’t look particularly pleased she had held him to his word.

  But she could not let him interfere. He had promised to stay with the horses, a good stretch away by the woods, and she was going to make sure he did so.

  “Miss Silverton?”

  She turned sideways, taking a step backward to make sure she could both see Mr. Flemming and keep an eye on Sebastian.

  “Mr. Flemming, your associate, Mr. Welbury, I am so saddened to read of his death.”

  “Thank you for saying so, Miss Silverton. He is a loss. But Mr. Welbury knew well the risk of our profession.”

 

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