DeButy & the Beast

by Linda Jones

  Even Betsy, who was always reserved and rarely spoke, seemed different tonight. She tripped over her own feet while carrying a tray of chicken to the table, and barely saved their dinner from being thrown about the room. Once she’d recovered and placed the tray on the table, she’d blushed and stammered an apology. Her eyes only left the floor once, to sneak a peek at the king who was usually so hungry he demanded more and more and more. Julian imagined poor Betsy was tired of trying to feed the great ogre.

  Anya, who had dressed in a very nice blue gown for dinner, was quiet throughout the meal. Julian wondered if Mrs. Sedley noticed that her granddaughter barely glanced her way during the long, torturous meal. Julian had wished, more than once, that Valerie and William had made the trip over for dinner again. They had not, and their absence left a noticeable chasm at the table.

  Miller’s Crossroads was several hours away, by horse, but it was a bit closer to the Mathias farm than the Sedley house. Once they were settled there, he’d make sure Anya and Valerie had time to visit with each other, to maintain the kinship they had recently rediscovered.

  When the strained meal was blessedly over, everyone gratefully went their separate ways. Mrs. Sedley pleaded a headache and retired to her room. Seymour declared he was off to win some of the money he’d lost the night before, and Ellis simply wandered off. The queen started to follow her son to the south parlor, his favorite room and the one he had all but taken over, but at the last minute she sighed and pleaded a headache herself. The queen, flanked on either side by the two island girls, walked up the stairs without looking back.

  Julian followed Anya toward the south parlor, where she was headed to break the news to the king that she would not be returning to Puerta Sirena, when Peter waylaid Julian.

  “Sir, there’s a gentleman here to see you.”

  Julian reached out and touched Anya’s arm. He didn’t want her to deliver this news alone. To be truthful, he didn’t want her alone in the same room with Sebastian, not ever again. She stopped and waited while an exhausted looking Peter delivered the message.

  “I use the term gentleman loosely,” the butler said in a lowered voice. “I suggested that he wait in the garden, as I feel quite sure the silver would not be safe if I invited him indoors. And,” Peter added with an upturned nose, “the creature smells.”

  Jeremiah. Julian shook a finger at Anya. “Wait for me. I’ll be right back.”

  “But…”

  He grabbed her by the shoulders and faced her head on. “Wait for me.” With that, he lowered his head to give her a quick kiss. Peter did not seem at all surprised, and Anya promised. As he left, she perched on a delicate chair that had been placed in the foyer.

  By the dying light of day, Jeremiah paced on the garden path. He lifted his head when Julian appeared, and stalked with long, swaggering steps in the direction of the house. Julian met him halfway.

  “Sorry I took so long, doc,” the big man said in a lowered voice. “Turns out the man who hired me and Milton was hired by someone else, and I had to track him down before I knew for sure who was behind it all.”

  Julian nodded his head. “Go on. What did you find out?” He knew what the answer would be, but he needed proof. He had to be certain before he confronted Mrs. Sedley.

  “You’re not going to like it, doc,” Jeremiah said, leaning slightly forward. “I was kinda surprised myself.”

  Julian didn’t think he would be at all surprised.

  “I mean, the man lives right here in this very house!”

  Julian began to nod, then stopped. “Man?”

  “Seymour Sedley,” Jeremiah whispered. “Your wife’s own cousin!”

  “Seymour.” He shouldn’t be surprised, not knowing Seymour as he did. But he had been so sure Anya’s grandmother was behind it all. After all, she was willing to kill Sebastian to keep Anya here! No, she was willing to allow Julian to kill Sebastian. It had, after all, been his idea.

  “Thank you.”

  Jeremiah shuffled his big feet. “I decided you were right,” he said.

  “About what?”

  “About… farming. I’ve had enough of this. I just don’t make a very good criminal!”

  “I think you’ll make an excellent farmer,” Julian said with a small smile.

  “When are you coming back?” Jeremiah’s half-smile faded. “I told Nellie you’d come back, and if you don’t she’ll have my hide.”

  “It won’t be long,” he said. “How is everyone?”

  “Old Mrs. Blythe has the croup, and Jim McConnell has a frightful rash.”

  Julian gave Jeremiah instructions for both patients, then promised to be in Miller’s Crossroads in no more than a few days. As Jeremiah ambled toward his horse, Julian headed for the big house. It was grand, it was beautiful. And he couldn’t wait to get Anya out of it.

  *

  Anya waited, as Julian asked, but she was anxious to tell Sebastian that she would not be returning to Puerta Sirena with him. He might be angry at first, but she would make him see the right in her decision. But before Julian returned, Queen Carola waltzed down the stairs and toward the south parlor, alone. She had left her companions above stairs.

  Sebastian and his mother were very close. He often sought her counsel on island matters, and she did truly seem to have his best interests at heart, always. Anya laid her hand over her own flat belly. She understood that, now. She only wanted what was best for her child. Julian was best, for her and for the baby.

  But she wanted to tell Sebastian of her decision in private, and Carola went into the south parlor and closed the door behind her. The queen would be angry when she found out that Anya’s child would not be Sebastian’s heir. They would have to find another solution to their dilemma.

  Julian came up behind her, assisted her to her feet, and practically dragged her out of the foyer and toward the stairs. He glanced around, checking to see if anyone else was about. They were, of course, all alone. “It wasn’t your grandmother,” he said lowly. “It was Seymour.”

  She sighed in relief. “Thank goodness. Of course it was Seymour,” she said. “He is such a terrible person. But why?”

  “I suspect it was your comment about having a dozen children,” Julian snapped.

  “Why should he care how many children we have?” Anya shook her head. “It makes no sense.”

  “Money,” Julian said. “He didn’t want to have to divvy up the Sedley fortune into such small pieces.”

  “Money? Money means nothing.” She didn’t like Seymour, and she knew darn well he had never liked her. But to have Julian taken from her for money… The news raised her ire to new levels.

  Julian took her hand. “Let’s go tell that blasted king now that you’re not going back with him. Then we’ll kick him out of the house.”

  “I have a better idea,” she said. “Let’s just leave. We can pack our bags, sneak out of the house, and go to this horrid little town you told me about.”

  Amazingly, Julian smiled. “Feeling cowardly?”

  “A little.” She rose up on her toes and kissed his cheek. “We cannot tell him now. He is with his mother.”

  She laid her head against Julian’s chest. Queen Carola had declared her marriage undone. Julian said the island queen did not have the authority to declare their marriage void, but still… She did not like that declaration hanging between them. She had lived too long on the island to completely disregard the dictate of the queen.

  “Later, then,” Julian said gently. He took her hand and together they headed for the stairway. A noise at the top of the staircase startled them, and Julian dragged her aside and toward the entrance to the library. They entered the dark room and Julian took her in his arms.

  “As soon as Queen Carola leaves the south parlor,” Anya said. “We will tell Sebastian the news.”

  “Until then?” he whispered.

  Anya rose up on her toes. “Kiss me.”

  *

  Sebastian remained in his seat, b
ut his face grew hot and his hands balled into fists. “Who is he?” he asked. “I will kill him with my bare hands.” The man who had touched his mother did not deserve to live. He thought of all the men of Puerta Sirena who had shown her attentions. Jean Pierre, that blasted pirate. Leonardo, with his wide smile. That devil Manuel.

  “You are not going to kill anyone,” she said gently. “This is for the best. The line will live on through me, and you will be free. You never wanted to be king, Sebastian. With the birth of this child, you will be free.”

  “What of Anya?” he asked through clenched teeth. “Her heart will be broken that she will not be queen, that her child will not be heir.”

  His mother waved a slender hand. “Nonsense. She still has feelings for that man who was once her husband. The only time she is happy is when he is with her. Do you not see it?”

  “Of course, I see it. But I came all this way for her, and to simply—”

  “No,” she interrupted. “We did not know it at the time, but we came here so I could meet the man who is father to my baby.”

  Sebastian narrowed his eyes. “You met him here? And you already carry his child?” He rose slowly to his feet. “It is that sea captain, is it not? Ellis Sedley. I will have his—”

  “No,” she cried, sounding horrified.

  “Then who?” he thundered.

  “Peter,” she said gently.

  “The servant?”

  “He is a fine man,” she said defensively. “A former soldier, a strong, caring…”

  Sebastian clapped his hands over his ears. He did not want to hear any more.

  “My son,” a soft voice intruded, in spite of the hands over his ears. “Do you want to be king?”

  He shook his head. “No. I hate it when people expect me to make their decisions, to settle their disputes. I do not like that they expect so much from me.” He never had. His mother had been the one to make most of the decisions. He just sat on the throne and smiled and said what his mother told him to say. “But that does not mean I like the idea of you taking a… a…” Lover. He could not say the word.

  “Husband,” she supplied.

  “You are going to marry him?” Somehow that seemed worse.

  “Yes. You can stay on as king for a while, teach him about the people and the island, and then when you are ready to step down, Peter and I will rule until our daughter is old enough to sit on the throne.”

  “You know it is a female?”

  “I know,” she whispered.

  Sebastian took his seat. “He is a coward for allowing you to tell me this alone. Why is he not here?”

  “He wanted to be. I told him I preferred to tell you myself, and I also told him that I would share the news later tonight. Otherwise I imagine he would be here, despite my wishes.”

  In truth, he had not seen his mother looking so happy in a long time. Not since before his father had died. “Do you care for him?”

  “Very much.”

  “So I suppose I should not kill him.”

  She heard the surrender in his voice, and smiled. “I very much wish you would not.”

  A soft knock on the door interrupted, and a moment later it opened. Betsy peeked in. When she saw the queen standing there, she paled, mumbled an apology, and started to back away.

  “No,” Sebastian said, lifting his hand. “Come in.”

  She did as he asked, stepping in with her hands clasped before her and her face flushing pink. “I just thought I’d see if you’d like some tea.”

  One would not think, to look at her, that Betsy hid a great passion behind that meek expression and under those plain clothes. But she did. He wanted to uncover every element of that passion, one layer at a time.

  “I would love some tea, later,” he said. She curtseyed once, and left the room, all but running.

  “Fine,” he said, feeling a bit better after seeing Betsy’s pretty, not-quite-as-innocent-as-it-was-this-morning face. “You have my blessing.”

  “Thank you.”

  He did not think his mother had ever thanked him before, not for anything. “This Peter, he is important to you.”

  “He is,” she said, sounding more than a little surprised herself.

  *

  Julian and Anya waited in the library for what seemed like hours, but they didn’t mind. They kissed, they whispered of future plans, they talked about names for the baby.

  “Surely Queen Carola has gone to bed by now,” Anya whispered.

  “Let’s go find out.”

  Decisions made, plans finalized, they wanted this confrontation over. The one with Seymour would come next, he imagined, but since the rogue rarely came in before dawn that would have to wait.

  The door to the south parlor was closed. Anya knocked briefly before opening the door and stepping inside. The king, looking oddly flushed, sat on the chair he had made his throne. A rumpled blanket was thrown over his lap on this cool night. The queen was nowhere to be seen.

  “Anya,” he said, a bit too brightly. “It is always good to see you.”

  Julian stepped into the room behind her, and the king’s smile faded.

  Anya clasped her hands, acting almost nervous. “Sebastian,” she said gently. “I have to tell you something very important.” She started talking gibberish. The same kind of gibberish she had sometimes reverted to in her early days here. Spanish, French, Italian, a little bit of English, and some island words no one else would ever understand.

  Sebastian responded in kind. Julian didn’t know what he said, but since he didn’t seem at all upset, he was afraid the king just didn’t get it.

  Julian stepped around Anya and took her hand. “Would you two stop this? I can’t understand a word. Sebastian,” he said, steely eyes on the king. “Anya is my wife. She carries my child. She is not going back to Puerta Sirena with you.”

  “So she tells me,” he said calmly. “Though her words were much more eloquent than yours.” The man actually smiled. “I wish her only the best.”

  Julian, who was more than prepared to fight for Anya, blinked. “You do?”

  “Of course. Anya is my dearest friend. If she wishes to remarry you and stay here in America, I will not object.”

  “What do you mean, remarry,” Julian said. “We were never unmarried.”

  “Actually,” Anya said, squeezing his hand. “We were.”

  Sebastian raised one hand high. “I will perform the ceremony myself,” he said with a magnanimous air of authority.

  Julian rolled his eyes and was about to tell the king that there was no way in hell there would be any heathen ceremony performed by a half-naked king, when he looked into Anya’s face. She was so happy, so openly delighted.

  And she had never been completely satisfied with the first ceremony. How many times had she told him that something was missing?

  “Fine,” Julian muttered. “As long as the ceremony happens soon, I’ll be—”

  A soft sneeze interrupted him, and Julian snapped his mouth shut. It hadn’t been the king or Anya or himself who sneezed, but someone who was hiding behind the king’s wide chair. Anya stepped to the side and began to circle the chair, and a disheveled Betsy rose from behind the makeshift throne. Her hair was mussed, her cheeks were pink, and her lips looked well-kissed.

  “Betsy!” Anya raised a horrified hand to her chest.

  The maid tried a smile that didn’t quite work until Sebastian offered her his hand. When she took it and rounded the chair, he yanked her down onto his knee. “You heard,” the king said.

  “Yes,” Betsy muttered.

  “I told you she would stay here with the doctor.”

  “No,” Betsy said, turning her head to smile at the king, “I told you she would stay here with the doctor.”

  “Come to Puerta Sirena with me,” Sebastian said.

  “Sebastian!” Anya snapped. “What have you done?”

  It was Betsy who answered, glancing up at Anya with a smile on her face. “I’m going to be a�
�� a…” She lowered her voice. “A love goddess. Sebastian’s going to teach me everything.”

  “Oh, he is?” After a moment, Anya smiled. “You will love Puerta Sirena,” she said gently.

  Betsy sighed. “I know.”

  *

  Once again, the Sedley mansion was in an uproar. Seymour, who had confessed that he had paid a man in Wilmington to have Julian kidnapped but pled that it was Margaret March’s idea, would be going to sea with his father—against his wishes and at the older man’s insistence. Two of Sebastian’s men were guarding Seymour, in case he should try to escape. Life at sea would not be easy for Seymour, Anya suspected.

  Grandmother was livid. She was losing her son once again, as well as her granddaughter, her grandson, her butler, and her cook. All in one day. She was not happy. She had tried to bribe everyone into staying, and had even tried to offer William Mathias money to send Valerie home, but no one accepted her offers. Seymour would have gladly stayed, Anya knew, if his father had allowed it.

  Valerie and William came for the wedding, at Anya’s insistence. When the ceremony was over and the others left for the ship that would take them all to Puerta Sirena and would then take Uncle Ellis and Seymour to points unknown, Anya and her husband would leave this place for Miller’s Crossroads. She very much looked forward to living in the horrid little town where Julian would be doctor. The night before they had made great plans for a new home. One of the sections of the house they planned would be an office where Julian could see his patients.

  Until then, they would live in what had once been an inn. Anya did not care where they lived, as long as they were together.

  For the momentous occasion, Sebastian wore a brightly colored skirt, his crown, and a coral necklace. Nothing else. At Julian’s insistence, Anya wore her white scarves and the jewelry she had worn to their first wedding. This time, a delicate gold rose rested atop the other, more extravagant necklaces. Julian wore his trousers and a shirt, but had left the jacket off. This was, after all, a casual affair.