What You Desire (Anything for Love, Book 1)

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What You Desire (Anything for Love, Book 1) Page 7

by Clee, Adele


  “I could not help myself,” Sebastian declared, standing to pace back and forth in front of the desk. “I don’t know what came over me. One minute I am sitting on my horse admiring the view. The next, I am devouring her mouth with the urgency of an opium addict drinking his last tincture.”

  “Without wishing to cause insult,” Dudley said in an even tone, “from what you have told me, Miss Beaufort is hardly gently bred and by your own declaration was a willing partner.”

  “That does not make it right,” Sebastian argued, thoroughly ashamed of himself. The thought of his blatant disregard for propriety caused his temperature to rise, and he pushed his fingers down between his neck and his collar in an attempt to allow the air to circulate.

  Dudley narrowed his gaze and the corners of his mouth curved into a mischievous grin. “Do you care for her?”

  His question was like a slap in the face and Sebastian stopped his pacing and placed both hands on the back of the chair for support. “Of course not. I hardly know her,” he blurted. “Most of the time I have to stop myself from grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking some sense into her.” Or from pushing her to the ground, covering her with his hard body and plundering her sweet mouth, he added silently.

  Dudley laughed. “I seem to remember feeling the same way about Charlotte, and I married her.”

  “I am not going to marry Miss Beaufort.”

  “Yet in the space of a few hours you’ve kissed her twice,” Dudley said, making him sound like the worst of scoundrels. “You need a wife and you said yourself, as soon as all financial matters concerning the estate were settled your priority would be to beget an heir.” Dudley shrugged. “Why not ask Miss Beaufort? She obviously stirs some grand passion within you. I have never seen you so agitated over a woman. I have never seen you so … so …” Dudley waved his hand in the air as he struggled to find the right word.

  “Frustrated?” Sebastian offered.

  “I was going to say unbalanced,” Dudley replied, unable to hide his amusement. “I assume Miss Beaufort will stay in Red Lion Square. But what about you?”

  Sebastian swallowed. “I cannot leave her there alone.”

  “You intend to stay there with her? Is that wise?”

  Sebastian didn’t have chance to answer the question as there was a gentle knock on the door and a footman entered carrying a tray of meats, cheese, and sweet biscuits.

  Dudley cleared a pile of papers and asked for it to be placed on the desk. “Don’t wait for me,” he said obviously aware of Sebastian's greedy gaze. “You look ravenous. It’s a good job Miss Beaufort’s not here as you’d be in danger of devouring her whole.”

  “Am I to be the whipping boy for all your poor jokes?”

  Dudley patted him on the back and handed him a glass of claret. “I hate to be the one to preach —”

  “That’s a lie,” Sebastian interjected. “You love making me look foolish.”

  “Well, yes. But as your friend I feel it my duty to remind you of the potential outcome of your situation. You know I speak from experience.”

  Sebastian swished his wine around in the glass. ‘There is only one possible outcome,” he said, his tone subdued. “I shall return Miss Beaufort to her brother, untouched and unwed.”

  Dudley’s mouth curved into a sardonic grin. “I think we both know that will not be the case.”

  Sebastian muttered a curse and popped a chocolate macaroon into his mouth.

  They sat for a while in relaxed silence while Dudley dipped his nib into the inkwell and scratched out a few notes.

  “Do you want me to inquire into Lord Beaufort’s whereabouts?” Dudley asked as Sebastian finished his repast.

  “No, I shall see to Beaufort,” Sebastian replied taking a mouthful of wine. “I need you to find out anything you can about the Comte de Dampierre. He must have an address here in town. Miss Beaufort seemed confident she could find him if need be. She seems to think some sort of deal had been struck. Her brother had promised to sell or trade the necklace and then for some reason refused.”

  Dudley frowned. “Can you trust Lord Beaufort?”

  “With my life,” Sebastian replied without hesitation. “The gentleman I know would not renege unless something prompted him to do so.”

  Dudley put a definite cross through one of the notes he had scribbled. “Is the necklace valuable? Perhaps when Beaufort came to London, he discovered it was paste and didn’t want to look foolish.”

  Sebastian laughed. “You’re thinking of the time we traipsed halfway around France looking for Lord Pottersham’s mistress after she’d run off with his wife’s necklace.”

  Dudley’s eyes flashed with amusement. “It would have been helpful if his wife had mentioned she’d swapped the gems for paste.”

  “Here, you may see for yourself,” he said removing the pouch from the concealed pocket sewn inside his coat. He stepped forward and placed the pouch on the table before returning to his seat. “I couldn’t take the risk of leaving it behind.”

  Dudley opened one of the desk drawers and removed a rosewood magnifying glass. Rolling out the pouch, he took the necklace to the window to examine it in the light. “I must say it is a rather fetching piece.”

  The rubies twinkled like the stars and Sebastian caught his breath as his mind conjured an image of it draped around Miss Beaufort’s bare neck. Except in Sebastian’s mind, it was not just her neck that was bare.

  “Most definitely not paste. There are too many imperfections, too many signs of nature’s impurities,” Dudley murmured. He returned to his chair and placed the necklace on top of the velvet pouch. “I’m not qualified to place any sort of value on it, but even so, the thought of value does raise a very important question.”

  “I know what you are going to say,” Sebastian said, bringing his wayward thoughts to heel. “If no money has changed hands then why would Beaufort negating their deal be so important to Dampierre? Why would he travel all the way to Marchampton unless the deal had already been done?”

  “I would wager, Miss Beaufort knows more than she is letting on. Else why would she be so determined to relieve you of the necklace?”

  Sebastian knew she’d not been completely honest. It took an awful amount of courage to scheme one’s way into someone’s home and the act suggested an element of desperation. It was part of the reason why he’d insisted accompanying her.

  “I think it is fair to assume that Beaufort has something belonging to this Dampierre fellow,” Dudley continued, glancing down at the necklace. “It must be something of great value to send a peer into hiding and a French comte scouring the country.”

  An image of James Beaufort’s female companion flooded his mind: the disguise, the reluctance to call out her name, the need to take cover in the woods. “You’re not going to believe this,” Sebastian said as recognition dawned. “But I believe Beaufort and Dampierre are at odds over a woman.”

  Chapter 11

  It was late afternoon when Sebastian rode Argo into the mews. After dismounting, he gave the horse a reassuring pat before handing him over to Peter: an orphan boy of fourteen, whose passion for horses surpassed any young buck frequenting Tattersall’s.

  “Don’t worry. Cronus is safe,” Sebastian said ruffling the boy’s hair in a bid to ease his troubled expression. “He’s stabled out of town, but I’ll collect him when I return to Marchampton.”

  Peter sighed. “I thought you’d gone and sold him for this one,” he said, stroking Argo’s nose.

  “I would never sell Cronus,” Sebastian said placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “This is Argo, but he’s only visiting so don’t get too attached.” He smiled at Peter’s look of wondrous appreciation. “Is Haines about?” Sebastian was curious to know how Haines had fared with his minx of a passenger.

  The boy shook his head. “No, my lord. He said they need him in the house.”

  With some trepidation, Sebastian made his way inside. No doubt, Miss Beaufort had been causing
all sorts of trouble in his absence. He wondered if she would be waiting for him, ready to pounce, ready to lash out with her sharp tongue and he imagined dodging books and ornaments while trying to calm her volatile temper.

  He found Haines in the kitchen, sitting at the oak table in just his shirtsleeves, helping Amy polish cutlery. Mrs. Cox stood at the counter, rolling out pastry.

  “Good afternoon,” Sebastian said. They were so busy chatting, no one seemed to notice he was standing there.

  “My lord,” Haines replied looking a little embarrassed as he stood to attention. “I didn’t know you were back.”

  Amy jumped up quickly, knocking over the chair, and Haines walked around and picked it up while she bobbed a curtsy.

  The kitchen door burst open and a pale, thin girl scuttled in carrying a tea tray, coming to a crashing halt directly in front of Sebastian.

  Mrs. Cox rushed forward, wiping her hands on her apron, her plump face dotted with flour. “You do remember me telling you about my niece, my lord?”

  Sebastian nodded. “Yes, I do. It is Sarah, is it not?”

  The girl attempted a curtsy but looked like she was ducking under a swinging branch. “Thank you, my lord, for giving me this position. There’s not many who would take a girl who’s got a kiddie.”

  Sebastian smiled and helped her to steady the tray. “Is that Miss Beaufort’s luncheon?” he inquired, noticing she hadn’t touched a morsel. Perhaps she was still annoyed with him and this was a form of punishment. Given the option, he’d choose assault with a vase over silent manipulation. “I assume she’s still in her room?”

  Haines spoke up. “She asked for a bath to be drawn, my lord, and for Amy to press her clothes.”

  The thought of Miss Beaufort lounging in a bath, just a few feet above, sent his pulse racing and he placed his fingers behind the knot in his cravat to loosen it a little.

  “Did Miss Beaufort say why she refuses to eat?”

  “No, my lord, I tried the door but it was locked,” Sarah replied. “I did knock, but she didn’t answer. She’s probably fallen asleep and so I thought it best to bring the tray down.”

  “But she slept most of the journey,” Amy added, shaking her head. “She told me herself, it wasn’t good for the constitution to sit around idle.”

  Sebastian narrowed his gaze. “Where are her clothes?”

  “Amy took them up an hour ago,” Haines replied, a look of suspicion marring his weathered face.

  “I cleaned them as best as I could, given such short notice, but Miss Beaufort seemed happy enough,” Amy said, looking proud of her efforts. “She said as long as she looked respectable enough to walk down the street —”

  “Bloody hell!” Sebastian cried, turning on his heels and running out of the door.

  He mounted the stairs two at a time, aware of Haines’ heavy plodding behind him.

  “In here?” Sebastian asked, pointing across the landing to the room furthest from his own.

  “Yes, my lord,” Haines murmured, his voice tinged with remorse as he hung his head low.

  Sebastian turned the handle and discovered the door was locked.

  “Miss Beaufort,” he called as he rapped on the door. He felt like smashing the blasted thing down with his fists.

  There was no reply.

  Sebastian knelt down and peered through the keyhole. He could see straight through into the room as she’d taken the key out of the door. His instincts told him she was no longer in the house. Experience told him she had left through the front door. If she had escaped via the window, she would have left the key in the door.

  “Shall I barge the door, my lord?”

  “No, Haines, that won’t be necessary,” Sebastian said abruptly, as he stood and straightened his coat. “I believe Miss Beaufort has already vacated her room. But you may ask Mrs. Cox for the spare key.”

  “Beg your pardon, my lord, but this is my fault,” Haines said standing with his shoulders slumped forward. “I’ve never known anyone as angry as Miss Beaufort when you left her in the carriage,” he said scratching his head. “But she seemed happy when we arrived.”

  Of course she was bloody happy, Sebastian thought, she had probably been planning her escape from the moment she knew he was not following behind. Thank goodness he had the necklace else he doubted he would see her again. He patted his chest to make sure it was still in his pocket and Miss Beaufort didn’t know of a conjurer’s trick to spirit it away.

  Sebastian did not know what bothered him most. The fact Miss Beaufort was now wandering around town dressed in those blasted breeches for the entire world to see, or that she seemed to have an innate ability of making him look like a complete idiot.

  “I’m afraid the blame rests firmly at my door, no pun intended,” Sebastian replied. “I foolishly assumed Miss Beaufort would seek my counsel before tearing off around town.” He was going to have to put an end to this cat and mouse game they played.

  Haines cleared his throat. “When you give Haines a job to do, my lord, he always does his best. Never let it be said Haines don’t do his duty,” the coachman proclaimed, as though reapplying for his position. “It’s just the lady has a look about her, a way of … well, let’s just say she was mighty cheerful for someone about to bolt.”

  Sebastian felt sorry for the man. “Miss Beaufort is an unusual lady, Haines. I fear I will never quite understand her motivations or her impulsiveness. I suppose you cannot attempt to cage a tiger and expect it will not try to bite you.” He smiled, remembering Miss Beaufort’s prince and mouse story and her threat to gobble him up.

  “I can’t say I know much about tigers, my lord,” Haines replied, scratching the top of his head again. “But I know what it’s like to catch a butterfly, to trap it in a glass and watch it struggle to break free, to watch it grow tired and flutter to the bottom, all hopeless an’ lost.”

  “You’re suggesting Miss Beaufort is struggling to be free of the glass.” Sebastian leaned back against the jamb and folded his arms across his chest. “I did not know you were so perceptive, Haines.”

  “Beg your pardon, but there’s not much else to do atop a carriage all day long, besides think.”

  “Indeed,” Sebastian replied arching a brow with curious interest.

  Haines opened his mouth but then snapped it shut.

  “Please, continue,” Sebastian said. Any information to aid him in understanding Miss Beaufort’s psyche was valuable indeed. “I feel I am in need of enlightenment and I find your analogy quite refreshing.”

  Haines shuffled on the spot. “Well, you take Miss Amy,” he continued a little cautiously. “There’d be those who’d be annoyed by her constant chattering. Some might say no good can come from such foolish talk.”

  “And you, what would you say, Haines?”

  The corners of Sebastian’s mouth curved into the beginnings of a smile, for he already knew the answer.

  “Well, my lord,” Haines began. “I’d say that when she speaks the whole world lights up and if it means my ears have to take a bashing, seems like a fair trade to me.”

  Sebastian’s thoughts were drawn back to Miss Beaufort. He admired her tenacity, her courage. Yet the qualities that intrigued him the most were the qualities he tried to suppress.

  In an effort to protect her diminishing reputation, he had forced her to take matters into her own hands. He found himself wondering why he cared so much, why he felt such a desperate need to control and conquer.

  What was it about Miss Beaufort that spoke to him in a way no other woman ever had?

  Throughout his life, he’d always done what he felt right, propriety be damned. He considered the unconventional methods he’d used to save his father’s lands, to restore his legacy for future generations. How was he any different to Miss Beaufort?

  Perhaps they had more in common than he first thought.

  Knowing her brother was alive and well was not enough. She wanted to find him, to offer assistance and support. It’s exact
ly what he would have done. Woe betide anyone who tried to stop him. Suddenly, the road ahead became clearer. In future, he would treat Miss Beaufort as he would Dudley; as a partner, a friend. He would allow her the freedom to make her own decisions. What choice did he have? It was either that or he feared he’d be a rambling madman before the week was out.

  “I can speak to the staff. See if Miss Beaufort gave any clue as to where she was going,” Haines said.

  “That won’t be necessary. It appears Miss Beaufort is quite capable of taking care of herself,” Sebastian replied, pushing himself away from the jamb. “As soon as I’ve changed, I shall scour the streets for her. I’m confident she will return and when she does would you ask if she is free to accompany me for dinner this evening?”

  “What, in the dining room, my lord?”

  “Yes, of course in the dining room. I shall leave it to you to break the news to Mrs. Cox.” Sebastian turned and took a few paces towards his room. “Oh,” he said, swinging back round to face Haines. “Dudley Spencer’s wife will be sending a few things over for Miss Beaufort.” He was going to say he’d rather be damned than let her wear those breeches. But he was no longer in the habit of smothering butterflies. “There’ll be a few dresses, amongst other things. Have Amy press them and lay them out in Miss Beaufort’s room,” he paused and then added, “should the lady wish to wear them, of course.”

  Haines nodded and made his way to the top of the staircase. He stopped, his calloused hands gripping the rail as he turned to face Sebastian. “I doubt life would ever be dull with Miss Beaufort around.”

  Sebastian laughed. “No, Haines, life would be far from dull. Of that I am certain.”

  Chapter 12

  “I imagine Lord Danesfield must have been furious when he discovered I’d gone out,” Sophie said as Amy fastened the buttons on her gown.

  “He did curse a few times, but I said you would come back.”

 

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