by Gill, Tamara
Not that she expected him to dislike Sebastian. English or no, there was nothing wrong with her choice. He was titled, rich, sweet, and kind. What was there to dislike?
"Oh, my dearest, why did ye not tell us about Sophie? We will both hope for the best for her."
Elizabeth smiled at her friends. "Thank ye for your kind thoughts. Her brother and his wife Lady Clara have arrived to assist them, but I'm to return home at the end of the Season before the child is due."
"What does Lord Hastings think of postponing ye telling your brother?" Julia asked, watching her keenly.
The look on her friend's face made her choose her words carefully, not wanting to let them know that it was, in fact, Sebastian's idea not to tell Brice. To give them time to enjoy more of the Season, just the two of them, before the madness of a betrothal sent Edinburgh into a flurry and her family along with it.
"He is happy to comply with my wishes." Elizabeth pasted on a smile, willing the seed of doubt that settled in her stomach that he had not wanted to tell her brother because, by the end of the Season, he intended to cry off and return to England.
No, he wouldn't do that to her. Elizabeth had to move away from the doubt Lucky Lizzie had instilled in her. His courtship, his affections were true.
She swallowed the panic threatening to bring up her breakfast. "I hope you're both happy for me. For all that the situation has come about quickly, I am happy with my choice. I think that given more time I could fall in love with my husband."
Georgiana smiled, standing and pulling her up to give her a tight hug. "We're happy for ye, Elizabeth. Lord Hastings is a lovely man, and if he has captured your heart or is on the way to doing so, how could we not love him in turn?"
Tears sprung to her eyes, and she hugged her friend back, laughing when Julia joined in with their show of affection.
"Ye know what this calls for," Julia said, not letting either of them go. "We need to go shopping for your wedding night. A lovely nightgown is required for these Englishmen with a profile and jaw, such as Lord Hastings has. You need to shock his stockings off when he sees you for the first time alone in a bedchamber."
Butterflies took flight in her stomach at the thought of being alone with Sebastian in such a way. She supposed that would happen soon, and a new wardrobe would be required. As the new wife of an earl, she had to look her best. She had waited years to be married and to be able to wear whatever she wished. Rich, dark colors that suited her red hair and pale skin.
Sebastian leaned against the wall at the Season's latest event. A day after proposing to Elizabeth, and he could not keep his gaze from following her about the room as she waltzed with Lord Fairfax. There was something different about her tonight. Her smile was brighter, her eyes more alive, and as for her dress, well, he did not think he'd seen anyone more beautiful in his life.
He reminded himself their marriage, was a means to an end. A way in which he could gain control of his ancestral home his brother lost. To Elizabeth, however, he had started to think that she cared for him more than he deserved.
He didn't like to deceive her. It wasn't her fault his brother had been an ass and lost their estate in a game of cards, but neither should Elizabeth's brother been so quick to take advantage of his stupid sibling.
A quiet voice told him Laird Mackintosh was free of any misconduct just as much as his sister.
He rolled his shoulders, his eyes narrowed when Lord Fairfax's arm slid low on Elizabeth's back, and she was forced to reach around and lift it away from her derrière.
Her gaze met his over the gentleman's shoulder, and she threw him a wink. Sebastian choked on his whisky, receiving a whack across his back from Rawden for his effort.
"Whoa, Hastings. We don't need you to choke to death before you make that delectable Scottish morsel your wife. I'm assuming by your glower that you've laid claim and asked her to be your bride as planned."
He nodded once, clearing his throat. "I have, and she said yes. As for Lord Fairfax, if his hand moves lower again on her person, I will be forced to break his arm before the waltz ends."
Rawden chuckled, a knowing light in his eyes. "Talking of women, I must say Lady Julia is driving me to distraction. Since our return to town, she has refused me each time I've asked her to dance or stroll about a ballroom. I think she is testing me in some way."
"Or she is trying to let you know in the nicest possible way that she is not interested in you."
Rawden looked at him as if he'd sprouted two heads. "Don't be absurd, man. How could she not! I'm the second son of a duke. An alliance with my family would benefit anyone."
"Except she's an heiress with her own estate here in Scotland. She no sooner needs to marry you than Lady Elizabeth needs to marry me. I, however," he said, throwing his friend a smug glance, "just happen to be more fortunate than you in that I have secured my bride's affections."
"She isn't your bride yet," Rawden reminded him, gesturing to the two women as they were reacquainted after Elizabeth's dance. "What are you going to do if her brother refuses your suit?"
Sebastian had been thinking about the issue, which was foremost in his mind. If Elizabeth heard of his brother's gambling problem that led to his ancestral home being lost to a game of cards and that the house in question was now her dowry, she would run for the Highlands and never marry him.
"I'm thinking of eloping with her. Now that she has agreed to be my wife, and she's of age, I do not see the impediment. We could return to Moy Castle, inform her brother of her married state, and deal with the fallout then. I will be sure to consummate the marriage before then."
Sebastian took a deep, calming breath as the idea of having Elizabeth beside him, under him, on top of him sent a lick of heat up his spine. It would be no chore to make the fiery redheaded Scotswoman his. He looked forward to plundering her. In fact, the idea kept him awake most nights since he’d met her.
Rawden whistled. "He'll call you out or just murder you if you marry her without him knowing. From what I know of Laird Mackintosh, he's not a small lad and not one to be crossed."
Sebastian sipped his whisky, thinking over his friend's words. "Married and with the union consummated, there would be nothing he could do. He certainly would not want to kill his sister's husband. And with Halligale back in my hands, should Elizabeth take offense to the truth, at least I have time to win her back, try to make her see my side of the argument. She may be angry for some time, but I believe that too shall pass."
"Do you really think that'll happen? She will never forgive you if she finds out that you're marrying her for her property. If she did not have it in her name, would you be in Scotland right now chasing her skirts about?"
No, Sebastian would not, but that was beside the point. It also didn't factor, not anymore. There was something about Elizabeth that he liked. He enjoyed her company, was glad to have met her, to have her as his wife. They suited, no matter what the reasons were for bringing him here in the first place.
"I will have to try to ensure the truth does not pull us apart."
"You sound like a man falling in love and regretting his choice. I wish you luck with that, Sebastian," Rawden said, stepping out into the fray of guests and disappearing soon after.
He could make Elizabeth understand, explain how much Halligale meant to him. If she knew the truth, she would forgive him eventually. After all, it was not as if he did not like her. He did very much. More than anyone he'd ever met before in his life.
Chapter 12
A hand reached up and smoothed the line between his brow, and he realized Elizabeth was standing before him, a precious, knowing smile on her lips.
"You're woolgathering, my lord. Penny for yer thoughts?" she asked him, stepping to stand beside him.
He picked up her hand, kissing it and not caring who noticed. Her eyes widened, and he grinned. "Good evening, my dearest. I see I was too late to claim you for the waltz."
She chuckled, wrapping her arm tight about his and hol
ding him close. "There is to be another. I have been assured of that from our hostess this evening."
It pleased him that she wanted to reassure him. He wished the gnawing ache in his gut would also dissipate. However, something told him that it would not, not until he told her the truth and faced the consequences.
"I'm glad to hear it," he replied, tugging her to walk with him. He needed to move, to remove them from the gathered throng. He needed to have her to himself. "We should leave. I need to speak to you alone."
Her eyes widened, but she nodded. "I can tell Julia and Georgina I have a headache and need to return home, but we need to be careful to leave separately, so as not to raise suspicion, if you dinna want my brother to know of your suit. Everyone in Edinburgh knows him, and no doubt are updating him weekly on my progress."
Sebastian had not thought of such a thing, which made his need to get her away from Edinburgh, away from her brother's reach, more imperative. "Have your carriage take you home. I shall meet you there."
She nodded, sending him a small, conspiratorial smile, and then she was gone. He watched her disappear into the throng and wondered when he'd become such a cad. A bastard who offered marriage to a lady who was as high on the peerage ladder as he, who was as kind and sweet as anyone he knew, and all for an estate.
Who had he become?
Elizabeth did as Sebastian asked, meeting him at the mews behind Georgina's townhouse. He pulled her up into his carriage just as it rolled to a stop, calling out the address as he slammed the door closed.
"Why are we going to Dalmahoy?" she asked, as the carriage lurched forward. "That is an hour away, at least."
"I need to discuss something with you, and I need you not to answer the question until you at least ponder it a moment in your mind."
"Very well," she conceded, settling back on the leather squabs and clasping her hands in her lap. "I'm listening."
He took a fortifying breath. "I do not wish to wait for your brother or the banns to be called. I want to marry you now. I want you to be mine and no one else's. From this night forward."
For a moment, Elizabeth fought to control her racing heart. The idea of being his, of him wanting to marry her now and not in several weeks, soothed the small amount of anxiety she had had over his request to wait.
It seemed his lordship had a change of heart. "Why do you wish to marry me now? I haven't even told my brother that you asked me. Do you even have a special license?"
He glanced down at her hands in his, studying them, playing with her fingers. "I do not do this to steal you away from your family, but why wait, Elizabeth? The Season is young, and I do not want to spend it having to keep my hands off you. Being careful how I touch you and what I say. I want you, more than you'll ever know. More than I thought I would ever want anyone."
His words melted her heart, and she sighed. "This is all such a rush, Sebastian." Her stomach churned in knots. "You're not trying to deceive me in any way, are ye?" She had to ask. She would be a fool not to.
He swallowed, reaching for her face. "No, of course not," he managed. "Know this for it is true. I want to marry you because I adore you. I want you to be my wife, my countess. I want you because I desire you so dearly. The thought of anyone touching you, Lord Fairfax in particular after his wandering hands this evening, made me want to throttle the bastard. Never doubt those words for they are true."
Elizabeth met his gaze, trying to settle her nerves over what he was saying, hoping he wasn't playing her the fool. "So we're to Dalmahoy then?" she asked, smiling a little.
"If you say yes to my proposal, my plan, then yes."
She thought about it a moment, but she already knew what her choice would be. "Yes, let us elope, and then I can return home and celebrate with my family. They will be overjoyed to know that I'm married. We can always take our vows again in the chapel at Moy Castle."
He kissed her quickly, meeting her eye before he said, "I would adore that, just as I adore you."
Sebastian pulled her into his arms and kissed her hard. She opened for him immediately, no fear, no hesitation, and his body roared with need. He should be kissing her with sweet, luring strokes, but he could not. His body, his mind had other ideas. Tonight when he'd seen her dancing with Lord Fairfax, he'd all but had to force himself to remain where he was. It would be impossible for him to stand aside, watch her be courted by other men this Season, and all the while be secretly engaged to her.
No. He could not endure it. He wanted to dance, to flirt, and be inappropriate with her if they wished before society. He did not want to watch his manners or his conduct. If he wished to kiss her in the middle of a waltz at a ball, then he damn well would.
She pushed into his arms, her breasts grazing his chest, and his wits spiraled, crumbled into a pile of rubble.
He wanted her with a longing that would take out his knees had he not been seated. His body burned, hardened, and he wanted her to touch him, to run her hands over his body, clasp, and stroke him, give him pleasure.
She moaned, and he realized his hand was kneading her breast, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He needed to see it, to taste, and revel in her warmth.
Sebastian broke the kiss, pleased when she lay her head back, pushing her breast into his hand. He ran his finger along the top of her gown. "Your skin is so unblemished, like milk." He slowly slipped her bodice down with patience he did not know he possessed, exposing her flesh. He could not wait a moment longer. He dipped his head and kissed her pebbled peak, licking its pinkened surface, making it bead farther.
Her fingers spiked into his hair, pulling him near. He fought for control. He would not take her here, in a carriage of all places. She was a maid, a lady, and soon to be his wife. She deserved better than this. With a strength he did not know he possessed, he wrenched away, breathing deep to control his need.
Sebastian threw himself into the squabs, facing forward, and refused to look at her mussed hair, her flushed face, and swollen, well-kissed lips as she set her gown to rights.
He looked out the window and found they were not far from the small village where he had organized the reverend at St. Mary's church to marry them.
She reached out, touching his arm, and he closed his eyes, fighting not to wrench her onto his lap and continue what they had started.
"Sebastian, what is the matter?" she asked, trying to catch his eye.
He shook his head, grinding his teeth. "We're not married yet. I should not have touched you as I did."
A seductive, knowing chuckle sounded at his ear, and he shivered. She leaned close, clasping the lapels of his jacket. "You dinna see me stopping ye."
He took a calming breath. "I know, but it does not make it right. I want to marry you, and I do not want to ruin you in this way. You deserve better than a romp in a moving carriage."
She bestowed the loveliest smile, and it was equal to a fist to the stomach. He ought to tell the truth. Tell her that his courting of her had been born out of greed. The need to have his ancestral home back and nothing else.
But how could he tell her such a thing? She would never marry him then, and that goal had now changed. Morphed into something new and real, something true that made his heart full.
"You said you would marry me," he continued. "I have a reverend waiting for us. Married acquaintances of mine who live on an estate just outside of Dalmahoy will meet us at the church and be witnesses to our vows."
"However did you organize all this so soon?" she asked him, her eyes bright with wonder and excitement.
"You are over one and twenty, so we do not need your family's approval. I paid a hefty fee today to secure a special license. Not easily found here in Edinburgh. Our union will be legal, then nothing can come between us."
The carriage lurched to a stop, and Sebastian turned to her, taking her hand. "We're here. Are you ready, Lady Elizabeth to become Countess Hastings?"
She squeezed his hand in return, nodding once. "I am ready."
And so was he.
Chapter 13
Elizabeth walked up the aisle alone, wishing her family could be here with her, and yet, overjoyed at the idea that she was about to marry a man she adored. Seeing Sebastian waiting for her before a stone altar, the reverend smiling as he stood with his bible in hand, made butterflies take flight in her stomach. Soon she would be his, and she could be with him always. A small part of her had to admit she was marrying him for more than the mere reason she enjoyed his company and found him amusing, not to mention, devastatingly alluring.
Her heart had been speared by love's arrow, and for several days now, she had come to realize she did not merely like Sebastian, but loved him. Loved his humor, his conversation, and kisses. His hot, commanding gaze that even from across a room made her skin singe.
After all the legalities were dealt with, the thought that she would be alone with him, and as his wife, set her senses rioting.
Absently she heard the reverend declare them husband and wife, and before she had a chance to thank the father, she was caught up in Sebastian's arms, his mouth taking hers in a searing kiss.
Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back. The day was simply perfect, and when she returned home to Moy, she would celebrate with her family and friends, but tonight, right now, was her time. A time to savor with her new husband.
He set her back down on her silk slippers before turning to his friends and the reverend. "Thank you for tonight. I shall not forget your kindness for our sake."
"You are most welcome, Hastings," Lord Pitt said, smiling at them both and holding his wife's hand atop his arm. "I took the liberty of preparing a room at our estate if you wish to rest."