The Disgraced Lords Series 3-Book Bundle

by Bronwen Evans

  She tried not to lick her lips. She knew he’d see it as a sign of deceit. She had to appear cool, calm, and collected, look open and honest. She looked up into his eyes, held his gaze, and lied through her front teeth.

  “I went to visit my mother and sisters. The girls wanted to see me, and Marisa and Helen wanted to come, but I was too embarrassed to take them. My mother is still very bitter and angry over what happened, and that I’ve ended up marrying the man who killed her son. I haven’t been able to tell her the truth yet, because we don’t really know what the truth is. As soon as we apprehend the culprit, I will go and tell her, and hopefully this bitterness between our two families can end.”

  He stood looking at her for a long moment, his eyes searching her face for any sign that she lied to him. She held his gaze calmly, never wavering, for in truth her mother was very bitter, so it was really only a little white lie.

  “I won’t stand for lies between us. Our talk the other night mentioned trust, respect, friendship. On that we agreed. We can rub along well enough. Children and family and friendship.”

  “I want children too, very much.” She smiled at him. “So once again we are in agreement.”

  “I knew that to have children I needed to marry. Legitimacy is highly prized in the aristocracy. Marriage was a necessity; however, I wanted a specific marriage.”

  Beatrice had an idea of what he was talking about. “I know men of your reputation avoid marriage like the plague, but it didn’t take me long to convince you to come to my family’s rescue and offer for me. In fact it seemed very easy at the time.”

  He took a step away from her. He turned to look out the window at the moonlit darkness beyond and clasped his hands behind his back. “Were you acquainted with my parents?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I never had the privilege of meeting your parents.”

  He gave a wry smile. “You were probably far too young.”

  “I’m not that much younger than you, but I was probably more sheltered, being female.”

  “But you heard about them?”

  She felt her cheeks warm and was relieved he couldn’t see her discomfort. For she, and apparently most of London, had heard the tales concerning the Marquis and Marchioness of Coldhurst.

  The most scandalous story, still talked about within the ton today, told of how Sebastian’s mother attended a male-only gathering pretending to be one of the hired courtesans and joined in an orgy. Sebastian’s father was also partaking and when he learned the woman he was rutting was his wife, all hell broke loose.

  Beatrice had to admit she had been shocked at some of the lengths the two of them would go to disgrace the other. However, she tried to be polite.

  “Society has a habit of embellishing its gossip with each telling. We both should know that. Our marriage is the current object of torrid gossip even as we speak.”

  Sebastian’s bitter laughter stopped her words. “Nothing you heard concerning my parents needed embellishment. The arguments they had in public were legendary, as well as their indiscretions. Their words and actions had but one goal, to humiliate and inflict as much pain on the other as possible.”

  “I must admit I find that hard to believe. I had heard your parents’ marriage was based on love. One of the few couples who married for all the right reasons.”

  “It was love that drove the battle. It was rumored that my father, after my birth, had taken a mistress. And as they say, there is nothing like a woman scorned. My mother did everything possible to turn my father’s world upside down.”

  “So it was your mother’s fault?”

  “No, absolutely not. Father went out of his way to ensure my mother knew about each and every indiscretion. Love hands your opponent a weapon to wound.”

  “So that is the reason why you don’t want love in this marriage. Or any marriage.”

  For several long seconds he didn’t answer. When he did, his voice contained a tone she couldn’t quite explain. “I’m going to tell you something I’ve never told another soul. It isn’t marriage I object to. As you can see, I quite readily accepted your offer. In fact, I see many benefits to having a wife whom I like, a wife who can share similar interests. But one thing I do insist upon is that any marriage is not based on love.”

  “Not all love matches end in battles.”

  “I’m too much like my father. I—I—when I saw you with Dunmire, with his hands on you.… I don’t like how that made me feel.”

  Beatrice hid her inner smile. “Don’t confuse feelings of possession with those of love.”

  After a few moments he abruptly turned away and went back to stand next to the fire. “You could be right. But I won’t risk more. I’m content with our relationship the way it is—friends.”

  There seemed to be nothing more to say, and Sebastian obviously thought so too.

  “I’m going to go to the bank tomorrow to see if anyone at the bank knows anything about the initials H.B. and whether they relate to the deposit that was put into Clarice’s account.”

  Something in the back of Beatrice’s mind troubled her. Where had she seen the initials H.B. before? She was sure she had seen them somewhere, but she couldn’t quite remember. She didn’t want to tell Sebastian just yet; she would ponder on it and see if she could recount where on earth she had seen those initials.

  “We have had a long day, and an equally long night.” She walked across to her husband and put her hands on his shoulders. “We should go to bed.” Gently she turned him round so he faced her, and took his face between her hands.

  “I’m sorry about earlier today in the bathtub. I know what this marriage is about, and I know what I agreed to and I won’t go back on my word. I will try to control my feelings better.” She reached up on tiptoe and placed her lips against his mouth. She kissed him briefly, just lightly, and felt his body relax at her words. “I don’t want to be Henpeck Hennessey, especially not to my husband. And you are right, your life is entirely your own, I just hope that one day you don’t despise me for having trapped you in this marriage.”

  “I would never despise you. I entered this marriage because I believed we could help each other. A mutually beneficial arrangement. I guess it just takes some getting used to, living with you. I’ve never had a relationship with a woman that has lasted longer than a couple of weeks. So I’m not used to the fact you are going to be a part of my life from now on, and that I should be thinking of you as well as myself.”

  She gave him a grateful smile. She took his hand and led him toward the bed. “Then let us go to bed. We are both tired and I’d like to show you how grateful I am you married me.”

  She would continue with her plan of trying to seduce her husband into loving her, because it was the only plan she had. She also had hope that her tactic was working. Sebastian was afraid of love; that much was obvious. She could not push him. His armaments surrounding his heart would only strengthen if they argued.

  Patience was key. She didn’t want a hot passion that burned bright, then petered out. They had a lifetime to spend together. She wanted a love that grew slowly from the embers. One that burned constantly and only flared up now and then.

  Beatrice wanted to envelop Sebastian in the fire’s warmth, not burn him so he was wary.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sebastian was gone from her bed when she woke the next morning. She couldn’t help the smile that flitted across her face at the thought of what they had done in the bed during the night. For once, they had got into bed and all they did was fall asleep together, Sebastian holding her in his arms. But in the early dawn hours they had awoken and made love.

  It had been passionate and intense and there was something different about it as well. It was as if a barrier had come down and Sebastian was allowing himself to feel more than he should. She hoped that if they could have this trust between them, the friendship would develop into more. She knew if Sebastian really did see her as a friend, and then came to love her, that he woul
d never stray. Friends, good friends, lovers, did not hurt each other.

  She had sent her mother another letter today. She’d only seen her once since the wedding and she’d persuaded her mother that she was content and being treated well. Her mother was starting to thaw. Forgiveness came a lot easier considering the family had anything money could buy. The financial security went a long way toward allowing her mother to accept the marriage.

  It was well past noon by the time she came downstairs, and she was ravenous. Marisa joined her in the breakfast room, having only just awoken as well. She sat in a seat next to Beatrice and flashed one of her charming smiles.

  “You slept late. Made up, have we?” The hint of her wicked smile made Beatrice blush.

  “I was tired after last night. It was a very long and boring night for me, considering you were dancing just about every single dance. And did I see you dance twice with Lord Montague?”

  Marisa gave a dreamy smile just as Helen entered the room. “What is this about Lord Montague?” Helen said, and sat down across from Marisa and grinned.

  “And here I was thinking that it was Lord Rothburg who had caught your eye,” Beatrice said.

  “Rothburg is the better dancer but he’s just—he just needs to be reminded he’s not the only handsome man in the world.” Marisa didn’t even blush. “Gosh, they all catch my eye. That is the problem. I can’t decide whom I like. I really don’t have to just yet. All I want is to make sure the man I marry is not going to treat me badly. I don’t want to be owned by any man who might mistreat me.”

  Helen scoffed. “No man would dare mistreat you with Sebastian as our brother. Sebastian will make sure that whoever we marry will look after us appropriately.”

  Beatrice put down the knife she had been holding while buttering her scone. “Are you going to let Sebastian decide who you are going marry? I would have thought you ladies were intelligent enough to pick your own husbands.”

  Helen nodded. “Of course, but Sebastian will ensure that we know everything there is to know about the man. Looks can be very deceiving, you know.”

  Beatrice knew too well that looks could be deceiving. Lord Dunmire was a case in point. Lizzy had been totally deceived and had ended up paying a very high price for that deception. Beatrice hoped Marisa and Helen would never have to meet a man like Dunmire. In fact, she was sure that Sebastian would never let a man like him anywhere near his two sisters.

  The girls spent the next hour talking about the latest gossip among the ton. They were very excited about the new gowns arriving tomorrow. The ones they had ordered yesterday, while Beatrice went to see Henry.

  Beatrice sat listening and enjoying the girls’ excitement. However, she couldn’t seem to relax; her body was drawn tight as a bow. What would Sebastian find at the bank? And would he arrive home before Marisa and she left for the opera this evening?

  She hoped Sebastian would be joining them, but he had told her nothing of his plans past the bank.

  Sebastian returned in time to escort Beatrice and Marisa to the opera. They hadn’t had time to discuss what he’d learned at the bank, and she was burning with curiosity.

  The crowd turned to stare as they made their way through the glittering foyer to the Coldhurst private box, Hadley in tow. Sebastian was not taking their safety lightly.

  Marisa of course reveled in the attention. “Can you see if Lord Rothburg is watching?”

  Beatrice smiled and hooked her arm through Marisa’s, leaving the men to walk behind them. “He hasn’t taken his eyes off you since you entered the building.”

  “Good. Then I have some playacting to do, if you’ll excuse me for a moment.” With those words she broke away from Beatrice and turned to Hadley, holding out her arm for him to take.

  Hadley laughed. “Little minx, you did this to Christian a few weeks ago—used him to make one of your adoring sops jealous.”

  Sebastian’s head swung Marisa’s way. “I beg your pardon.”

  Marisa used the opportunity to put on a performance for Rothburg. She brushed her hand down Hadley’s chest and laughed gaily. “Don’t look so horrified, brother dear. A young lady must use every weapon at her disposal to ensure she makes an impact.”

  Sebastian bristled and moved to snatch Marisa from Hadley’s hold until Beatrice put a hand on his arm to restrain him. “Leave them be. It’s working, she knows what she is doing.”

  He looked between the two women, then across the foyer to see Lord Rothburg riveted to the spot, staring with murder in his eyes at where Marisa’s hand lay on Hadley’s arm. “I thought you were above playing such games, Marisa. You know how they end.”

  Marisa looked at Beatrice before turning to address her brother. “I’ve decided I want more out of my marriage, Sebastian. A lifetime of boring seems years too long. I want a husband who loves me above all else.”

  Beatrice felt Sebastian’s arm tense under her hand and she refused to meet the angry gaze she could feel directed her way.

  “We shall discuss this later. It’s obvious I have not been paying enough attention to your antics, young lady. I will decide whom you marry, and it will be to a man I believe will treat you with the respect you deserve. A marriage based on friendship is—”

  “Boring and safe. For once in my life I don’t want safe. I want …” Marisa drew herself up to her full height and declared, “I want passion, desire, and devotion.” She stamped her foot, a frown marring her beautiful features. “And yes, I want—no, I deserve—love. Come, Hadley. Do you think you can look adoringly at me until the first act begins? That ought to have Lord Rothburg in our box at intermission.”

  Hadley laughed, happy to play his part. He leaned close and whispered in her ear, “I just hope my act doesn’t land me with a challenge before the night is through,” and they resumed their walk up the stairs to their box.

  Sebastian held Beatrice back. “What nonsense have you been filling my sister’s head with?”

  “I can’t imagine what you mean.”

  “Can’t you? You know the story of my parents’ marriage. How can you fill Marisa’s head with fairy tales? Love for men of the ton is a luxury most of us cannot afford. Duty, titles, wealth, are what marriages are made of. Now, because of you, I feel Marisa will be sadly disappointed.”

  She tugged her hand free. “I have not filled Marisa’s head with any nonsense. She’s an intelligent woman. Do you really think no man could ever love your sister? What makes her so unlovable then?”

  Sebastian was suddenly conscious of where they were and the stares directed their way. “Stop twisting my words. Of course my sister is eminently lovable, but that does not make for a good marriage.”

  “For you, maybe not. But Marisa deserves her heart’s desire.”

  “Or is it that you had to give up your heart’s desire and are trying to live it through Marisa?”

  Guilt pierced her conscience. Was she? Did she want to see Marisa in love because she’d given away her only chance to find love for herself? Was she pushing Marisa to do something she herself was scared to do? She looked at her husband and her throat dried, her heart clenched in pain, and her knees almost buckled. She loved him. And she was terrified he’d never love her back.

  Sebastian, oblivious to the thoughts whirling in her head, pushed her toward the stairs. “We are drawing a crowd. We will continue this conversation later.” They ascended toward the box, Sebastian muttering beside her. “It’s time I picked a husband for Marisa before she does something foolish. It’s up to me to protect her from herself.”

  “Coward,” Beatrice whispered under her breath. She would not give up without a fight. “Only a coward lives half a life, hiding from feelings as if love were their Trojan horse.” At Sebastian’s grim frown, she added, “Marisa is brave, she’s willing to risk her heart.”

  He turned on her then, blind to the amused and sniggering audience, fury marring his face and his fists clenched tight. “And what price will she have to pay for her foolishness?
A lifetime of misery when love dies as it always does. Is that what you want for her? I would protect her from the pain my mother endured, and plan to do so until there is no breath left in my body.”

  Before Beatrice could answer, a footman arrived with a missive. Sebastian tore his gaze from her long enough to scan the note. “It’s from Clarice. She’s learned something of interest. Go,” and he pushed her toward the box, “join the others. I’ll meet you back at the house later tonight. Tell Hadley to see you both safely home.” Without a backward glance, he was gone.

  On the carriage ride home, Beatrice barely noticed where they were, thinking about Sebastian’s dictate about Marisa. Would he really force his sister into a marriage based on a cold-blooded business arrangement—like their marriage? She would not let that happen.

  Marisa stared out the window lost in her own thoughts, a dreamy smile upon her lips. No doubt thinking of the very handsome Lord Rothburg, who’d stayed firmly in their box since intermission. He’d bid them a goodnight with the promise to call on Marisa in the morning.

  Too soon they were home. Beatrice needed to know what Clarice had uncovered.

  Hadley exited the carriage and had just turned to help Marisa descend when the front door flew open and Arend yelled, “Wait! Don’t let them leave the carriage just yet.”

  “What on earth is the matter?” Hadley asked as Arend and Maitland rushed forward, their eyes sweeping the street.

  Maitland spoke in hushed tones, hoping the ladies could not hear. “Sebastian was shot as he arrived home this evening.”

  Beatrice didn’t wait to hear more; she was out of the carriage faster than a lightning strike. Heedless of the worried shouts behind her, she raced inside and up the stairs with her heart lodged in her throat. Sebastian had been shot …

  She heard Marisa close behind her, calling out for Helen.

  She reached the top landing and Helen flung herself into her arms, tears streaming down her face. “Aunt Alison and the doctor are in with him. They won’t tell me anything.”