“Yes, indeed, you did.” Wentworth rose and moved to the sideboard to pour three glasses of amber liquid. After handing them out he downed his in one gulp, then refilled it, only he sipped it this time. “I have this uneasy feeling warning me I should search for him. That something is wrong.” He moved to the window and pushed aside the drapes to stare out into the formal gardens bursting with summer color. “I ignored my uneasy intuition when I let him go.” He snorted. “Not that I could have stopped him anyway once his mind was set. But I could have had Smythe assign someone to accompany him.”
Wentworth closed his eyes as he finished his drink. He would never forgive himself if tragedy befell his brother. How could he? Even though their father had been dead four years now, he still reached out from his grave to do injustice to his family. If he’d kept his breeches buttoned up and didn’t sleep with any doxy who glanced his way, they would not be in this precarious position. Sebastian wouldn’t have gone off half-cocked and angry seeking a young girl claiming to be a sister to them. A natural born child to their womanizing father.
If this girl was their half-sister, Wentworth would welcome her with open arms. No child deserved to be alone in this world regardless of the circumstances surrounding their birth. According to the brief note she sent him, her mother recently passed due to a weak heart, and she was alone with very little money and nowhere to live. She didn’t ask for help or money. She only told them her circumstances. Without having met her, Wentworth respected her already.
“I’ll accompany you to find him,” Myles said, pulling him out of his thoughts.
“As will I,” Bridgeton added.
“I appreciate both of you offering, but Myles you must stay within a day’s ride of London in case your sisters and mother need you. They rely on you, and I don’t want to worry them about your safety after all they have been through recently. Not to mention you and Bella are newly married. Bridgeton, if you would be so inclined as to gather up Amelia and Olivia and stay here for a spell I would be forever indebted to you. With my wife expecting, I will rest easy knowing all my family are cared for.”
Myles looked at him, a worried expression etched on his face. “After Sebastian has disappeared you don’t honestly believe for one minute any of us will let you go alone, do you?”
“No. I will ask Amesbury.” Wentworth, Myles, and Edward Worthington, Marquess of Amesbury had been friends since their days at Eton.
“When will you leave,” Bridgeton asked, looking worried as well.
“First thing tomorrow morning If Amesbury arrives by then. I have several things I need to settle here before I leave.” He pulled his pocket watch out and frowned at the time. “What is keeping Amesbury? I sent for him as well.”
“Excuse me, Your Grace,” the butler said as he knocked on the open door. “A message for you.”
Thomas took the message, read it then excused the servant. “Amesbury won’t be joining us. He’s left for his country estate, something about a fire. Good Lord I hope all is well.”
“Yes, indeed,” Myles agreed.
“Let us hope no one was hurt, or worse,” Bridgeton added.
“Do you think your cousin, Spencer, would accompany me? I believe you told me he was visiting with you for several days. And if he does, what about his family back in London?”
Bridgeton smiled. “He will jump at the chance to escape the endless female prattling that goes on in his house. After all that is why he arrived on my doorstep yesterday seeking peace. I will see to my grandmother, aunt, and cousins while he’s away. It’s high time they visited the country for a spell. With Amelia and myself at your house, they can have my estate all to themselves. Which should please them.”
“I’ll send Spencer a note post haste. Meanwhile, thank you both for looking after my family while I’m away. You know I wouldn’t go myself if I didn’t have this constant feeling that something is amiss with Sebastian.”
***
That evening as silence descended on the household and the rays from the full moon shined through the open windows, Wentworth held his wife close to his side. “Promise me you will take it easy while I’m gone.”
Emma, curled against his side, her head resting on his chest said, “I promise. But do not fret, nothing is going to happen to me or our child. After all, this is not our first born. All was well with Hamilton’s pregnancy, and I expect no less this time around. Find Sebastian and do not worry for us.” She looked up at her husband and smiled. “I’m excited to spend time with Amelia and Olivia. Hamilton misses Olivia terribly since Amelia married Bridgeton and moved out.”
“I will still worry. I hate to be apart from you for even a day. Have I told you today I love you?”
She gasped as his hand roamed down her back to cup her behind. “Yes. I believe you did this morning.”
“Are you tired?” he asked as his need for her increased and hardened.
“Never tired for you, Your Grace.”
***
Wentworth and Stuart Spencer headed out at first light the next morning on horseback, deciding against traveling by coach as it would slow them down.
“Your message asking me to accompany you shocked me,” Spencer said after they had put several miles behind them.
“I apologize for that. I admit you weren’t my first choice, Amesbury was, but you were second. I need someone I can trust, and I trust you as we are family by way of Bridgeton marrying my sister.”
“Even if we were not family, you can trust me. Hell, I spent most of my life keeping Bridgeton’s family secrets. Some of his secrets have been revealed and some not, but none by my doing. However, it does free up space in my head for Seabrook family secrets.”
“Seriously, he still has secrets?” Wentworth’s hands tightened on the reins.
Spencer shifted uncomfortably in the saddle and looked away from him. “Fear not, Amelia knows all there is to know about his and his brother’s past.”
“That’s a relief. For a minute there I thought I had to turn around and demand answers from him, then beat him to a bloody pulp.”
“He is a most honorable man, you never have to worry about Amelia or her safety or future.”
“I agree,” Wentworth said. “I almost feel sorry for the way I treated him in the beginning when he first showed interest in Amelia.” He grinned at his companion. “But not quite. We have become good friends, but I like to keep the husbands of my sisters questioning my inner thoughts.”
Laughter shook Spencer’s shoulder. “You are heartless, Your Grace, heartless.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Some days I still wish I were your brother-in-law,” Spencer said, becoming serious. Something the gentleman almost never did.
“Have you gotten over your feelings for Bella?” Wentworth questioned. There was a time not long ago when both Spencer and Myles vied for his sister, Isabella’s affections. Myles won out. Truth be told, Bella had loved Myles for most of her life even though he knew Spencer held a small part of her heart as well.
“Yes and no. Yes, my heart has realized she belongs to another. But I miss her friendship. We shared much this past Season, and I find my days long without her to accompany me on my daily rides through the park.”
“I heard from Myles that you acted like a school boy when you met his sister Caroline in the park one day.”
Spencer chuckled. “Are there no secrets between you two? I admit I did. I was quite taken with her. Too bad she is too young for me. Not to mention she does not have her come out until next Season.” He paused and shook his head. “Myles would never allow it.”
“Why do you say that?” Wentworth asked. Young ladies of the ton married older gentlemen all the time.
“Just a hunch.”
They traveled until the sun set that evening. The Inn they stayed at remembered Sebastian, so Wentworth was relieved to know he was at least alive and well when he’d stayed there.
Chapter Five
On the third d
ay since the man—by the name of Sebastian Seabrook, stayed in her bed recovering from his attack—his fever broke and he asked for food. Teagan prepared a meat stew and served it with bread Lachlan bought from one of their neighbors. Unfortunately, their cabin had no oven to bake in, and Teagan didn’t have the knowledge to make bread over an open flame.
Having helped Mr. Seabrook sit up a short time ago, she found it easy to spoon the stew into his mouth. “Ah don’t dare give ye much. Yer stomach has been empty for several days now.”
“I’m starving,” he replied after he politely chewed his spoonful and opened his mouth for more.
Teagan laughed at the ridiculous way he looked. The eye that had been swollen shut was open a slit with a yellow and purple bruise beneath it. Bandages still covered most of his head, and her special black healing ointment ran down the side of his face covering his stitches. Her heart fluttered. A more handsome man she’d never seen. She needed to stop noticing things such as that. At least until she was convinced he could be trusted.
“I’m waiting,” he said, his one good eye narrowing on her, causing heat to kiss her cheeks.
“Sorry.” Try as she might, she could not keep her hand from trembling as the spoon carrying the stew approached his lips.
“Do I make you nervous? It is not my intention to do so.”
“Mr. Seabrook,” she huffed at him. “Ah assure ye ah’m not nervous.”
“Sebastian please. There is no Mr. Seabrook.”
She thought for a moment. “No Mr. Seabrook. Then “tis Lord Sebastian I presume?” She rose and curtsied with a smile.
“Should I be flattered or insulted by that curtsy?”
“Why flattered of course.”
“Please don’t treat me differently than you have. I’m the second son. It’s my brother who’s the duke.”
“A duke.” When her father dies Lachlan will also be a duke. “Is it difficult being the brother of a duke?”
The question brought a smile to his lips, and she melted back down into the chair.
“Not at all. I have never envied him. My father flaunted his mistresses and gambled the family fortune away. Poor Thomas inherited a mess and all our father’s debts. For a year he stalled the creditors, swallowed his pride, and became a fortune-hunting duke. Fortunately for him and all of us in his family it ended well. He inherited money and a business from one of our father’s childhood friends along with guardianship of his daughter.”
“The answer tae his prayers ah suppose.”
“You have no idea.” He laughed. “He married his ward and they are happy, in love, and expecting baby number two.”
“A fairytale made in heaven,” Teagan replied with a heavy heart. If only she could get that elusive fairytale ending. All she had to look forward to was being captured by her father and forced to marry, if not that brut of a man she’d wounded, then someone equally repulsive. A change of subject was needed so Sebastian didn’t notice her sudden melancholy.
“How does yer arm and leg feel?” she asked as she spooned the last of the stew into his mouth. He raised his brows as he chewed as if to say, “you always ask questions then shove food in my mouth.”
After he chewed he tested his arm and winced. “Hurts like a bugger. I beg your pardon for my language.”
“May ah inspect yer leg?”
He nodded and took a deep breath, probably anticipating pain. Since he was still naked beneath the sheet, she carefully moved it off his leg but tugged and tucked it around his hips so as not to expose his man parts. Her cheeks already felt scorched, and she could only imagine what they would look like if she saw all his nakedness.
She unwrapped the bandages and inspected the area around the stitches. “It has good color, the skin around the stitches is less angry and there isnae much swelling anymore. Brice made ye a crutch to help you move around on until the wound heals. Ah dinnae want it opening up again. When yer ready, please let he or ah ken and we’ll assist you.”
The smile he sent her melted her bones. What was it about this man? Her body and mind had experienced strange and unusual happenings since bringing him to her home. True, when she and Lachlan had come across him lying half in the river and half on the banks, she believed him dead and didn’t give him a care in the world. Even when she helped Lachlan move him and bring him here to her room and onto her bed, she still didn’t think much about him. In her mind he was probably going to die.
While she had cleaned and bandaged his broken body, something seeped into her skin through her fingertips. Whatever it was traveled throughout her body waking her up to her sensuality for the first time in her life. Those new awarenesses made her feel like a desirable woman. Something she’d never felt before.
“I don’t think I’m ready to get up just yet,” he hissed as she accidentally bumped his leg recovering him with the sheet.
“Just as weel. Ye need tae regain yer strength. Wouldnae want ye falling and injuring yerself in more ways.” She couldn’t help her hand from pushing the same lock of stray hair that kept creeping down in his eyes. “Ye should rest.”
She should rest as well as she hadn’t had much sleep since Sebastian arrived in their humble cottage. Unfortunately things needed tending to. At times like this she missed her pampered life in Scotland where she could rest a spell when the urge came over her. Albeit, that and her mother were the only things she missed. As for her father and Ian, she didn’t care if she ever set eyes on them again as long as she lived. And for her and Lachlan’s sake, she prayed she didn’t. Nothing good would come of them coming face to face. More likely her and her brother’s slow, torturous death would be the outcome.
***
Sebastian closed his eyes to rest, but his mind had other ideas. Since waking up in this room, he’d managed to piece together how he arrived here and he thanked God he was still alive. Those men who robbed and beat him, after he’d fallen off his mount and slid down an embankment bloody and hurt, had left him for dead. He owed his life to Maggie and Brice for bringing him here and mending his broken body. A frown creased his brow. The brother and sister lived like poor country folk, but they weren’t your average country folk.
Even with their thick Scottish brogue they spoke like the privileged gentry. Something was not right about this. The only thing he knew for certain was they meant him no harm. Meanwhile, he would heal and hopefully find out the truth about them.
Maggie, he grinned and winced at the pain radiating up his face. Beautiful Maggie. The first time he glimpsed her gorgeous red hair cascading down around her shoulders, he’d believed he’d gone to heaven and she his angel of mercy. What an utterly pleasant surprise to find out he lived and she—a living, breathing woman, cared for him with gentle, knowing hands. The emerald green of her eyes changed with her fluctuating emotions. When she concentrated on his injuries, they darkened with worry and concern. During their easy conversation of just minutes ago, they lightened and sparkled with amusement.
When she’d leaned over his naked body, clad only with a light sheet, and her breast brushed his thigh as she examined his leg, he’d nearly groaned. And he wondered if she’d noticed something stirring to life beneath the sheets. Thank God she took that moment to touch his injured leg causing him unbearable pain, which squashed his rising desire.
Something about Maggie called to his inner self. It didn’t matter that he believed she wasn’t who she said she was. If she hid something, Sebastian didn’t believe for a minute it was bad. Nothing about her could be truly evil. She emanated such innocence and genuine kindness—he knew without a doubt, a true beautiful soul lived within her.
How could he be thinking about his attraction to his savior when he still needed to find his half-sister? He scolded himself. She had sounded desperate in her letter, and he worried about what she had omitted in her correspondence. They all believed there were things she refused to say or couldn’t say. Was she starving? She hinted at being an age of around sixteen or seventeen. Was there a man t
rying to coerce her into giving him her innocence in return for shelter and food?
If only he weren’t injured, he could purchase a horse and ride today. Then his insides stilled. There were two problems with that. His body was in need of healing and he had no funds. Perhaps Maggie would write to Wentworth for him even though his pride would need to be swallowed. He’d let his family down and he hated it. Hated the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach for failing to find Penelope.
“Ah thought ye were resting,” Maggie said with a soft concerned voice. The cadence of it soothed his worried mind.
“May I ask something of you?”
She must have noticed his seriousness because she approached the bedside and took his hand, the one belonging to his unbroken arm, in her small callused ones. “Anything.”
“I need to send word to my family. They must be worried.”
Immediately, she let go of his hand. “Oh my God, how could ah havenae thought about yer family?” She rushed from the room, came back with her face flushed and her hair in disarray, and his heart fluttered with longing. After setting down parchment, ink, and quill on a small chest of drawers with missing knobs, she stood ready.
“You didn’t know my identity until today, so don’t be upset. There was nothing you could do,” Sebastian said, trying to ease her worried look and he succeeded. Only now she looked at him with a smile and expectant eyes. Swallowing, he hoped to ease the sudden dryness in his throat, and he began to tell her what he wanted put in the missive.
“Dear Wentworth, I have not found Penelope. I am fine, but my horse and I got caught in a terrible storm and got lost. I was unfortunately injured. A brother and sister just outside of Northumberland have taken me in until I heal. Please do not worry about me, but I am concerned about Penelope. Perhaps you should seek Mr. Smythe’s help. I hope this letter finds you and our family well. Your brother, Sebastian.”
“Is that all?” Maggie asked with a frown. “Should ye nae tell them how extensive yer injuries are? And that ye were accosted and robbed and left for dead by highwaymen?”
Lord Sebastian and the Scottish Lass Page 3