hand…Prudence was laughing gaily, while Phoebe, her face red, was clutching her throat as if she might expire momentarily upon the worn cushion of her seat.
“Oh, my!” Prudence said. Obviously she thought his erroneous assumption sincerely funny, for she put a slender hand to her mouth and gulped for air in an unladylike fashion that struck a chord deep within him. Suddenly Sebastian felt as if he had been run down by a coach and four. His breath caught, his vitals tightened and his head spun; the reaction was so unlike his usual bored detachment that it left him incredulous.
And she was the c .use of it.
A lock of shiny hair escaped her silly cap, and her spectacles slipped down her straight nose, making Sebastian battle an urge to remove them entirely. He watched her long, slim fingers in fascination as they moved the glasses back into place. Were those ink stains on her hand? How could he ever have thought her a doxy?
“Oh, my! I am sorry, but I guess we cannot blame you. Mrs. Bates warned us that we must not live alone, just us two, but I am so very old, you see, that I thought it would be quite all right,” she said.
For a moment, Sebastian simply stared at her, taking in her absurd explanation as he let his gaze travel from her flawless features down over her straight shoulders, shapely breasts and narrow waist to her gently flaring hips. Being so tall, she would have long legs that went on forever, that could wrap around a man—Abruptly Sebastian returned his attention to her face. “You, Miss Prudence, are definitely not old,” he replied, his voice strained.
Her laughter died, and Sebastian saw her return his regard with a wary but definite interest, so unexpected that it stunned him. With surprising intensity, his body responded, and he turned toward the window to hide the effects. He rested his hands upon the sill and looked out at Wolfinger rising in the distance.
“I apologize for my obviously incorrect assumptions,” he said. “I can only offer the excuse that my brother’s behavior has addled my wits.”
“We were so sorry to learn of his disappearance, my lord,” Prudence said. “But you know young men often behave precipitately. I am sure he will reappear soon enough.” Sebastian heard her voice, gentle and reasonable, and wanted to lean into it. What was the matter with him? With her? Surely she could know nothing of him, or she would not speak to him in such a fashion.
“I am certain that, as usual, he does not realize the repercussions of his actions,” Sebastian said tightly. He turned to face her again, his odd passion for her under control now. “I know James does not care for Wolfinger, so when I saw your…charming sister, I suspected that she might be responsible for his lingering stay. He seemed quite taken with her, and I thought he might have confided in her.”
Actually, Sebastian originally had feared an elopement, but he was not about to mention that, when the situation was so glaringly not what he had anticipated.
Prudence nodded in agreement, her expression serious and sympathetic, and he felt a ridiculous urge to unburden himself to this strange woman. He was fighting it when Phoebe, reclining ignored upon her chair, let out a soft wail and burst into tears.
He could see that Prudence was as startled as he by the noise. She paused briefly, as if surprised to find anyone in the room but Sebastian and herself, then went to kneel by the younger girl. “What is it, Phoebe?” she asked, taking her sister’s hands, and Sebastian was stricken by a bizarre jealousy. He wished she was touching him with those gentle fingers, looking at him with eyes full of understanding and succor. Good Lord, he was losing his mind!
“He did confide in me! He was w-w-wonderful!” Phoebe whimpered.
“Who?” Prudence asked.
“Mr. Penhurst! He w-walked with me.”
“What?” At Prudence’s tone, Sebastian realized that her alarm was genuine. Apparently she was not so sharp as to see the attraction between the two young people that had been so conspicuous to him. He watched her consideringly, sensing that there were complexities to Miss Prudence Lancaster that begged for further study.
His interest in her was definitely out of the ordinary. Usually he limited his dealings with women to a certain sort, who were very easily read. He liked having the terms well understood before engaging in any liaison, the payments and expectations agreed upon beforehand. Although his title gave him access to the rich and pampered ladies of the ton, most of them barely tolerated his presence, and those few who were interested struck him as far more calculating than any of the demimonde.
But Prudence would hardly qualify as either. She was, it seemed, a woman of decent birth, good manners and high morals—the kind who would be comfortable with the local gentry or at the vicarage. He had forgotten that such simple, kind-hearted people existed, for it had been a long time since he had associated with his parson or the squire’s vast brood—a very long time.
“Oh, do not scold me, Prudence!” Phoebe cried. “I could not bear it! We simply walked along the beach. It was I-lovely, and we talked, and Mr. Penhurst was every bit a gentleman. He never said anything about going away.”
Sebastian saw Prudence’s frown and knew a new surge of irritation with his brother. Had the whelp no thought for those who would be affected by his disappearance? He wanted to thrash James for causing her distress, then nearly laughed aloud at the bizarre impulse. A little late for him to play the hero, was it not? His role had been cast long ago, and the part did not appeal to women like this bespectacled, ink-stained creature.
“I think there is a lot you do not know about Mr. Penhurst,” Prudence said to her sister in that same gentle voice. “And nothing to excuse you from walking out alone with a gentlemen—” she shot Sebastian a quick, pained glance “—without telling anyone.”
Phoebe pouted prettily. “There was no harm done, and no one else to walk with me, with Mary and Cook being too busy, and you always at your desk writing and not wanting to be disturbed,” she whined piteously.
With a scowl, Sebastian recognized James’s well-worn tactic of trying to turn the blame back upon one’s elder. Prudence, apparently oblivious of this manipulation, was hugging the little schemer and murmuring softly in comfort.
Taking matters into his own hands, Sebastian stepped closer and snagged dainty Phoebe with his stare. “And what exactly did James say? Did he mention his plans for the future, or anywhere he might want to go? Was he to meet you somewhere, perhaps?”
The blue-eyed creature cringed and whimpered and buried her head against the curve of her sister’s breasts. For a moment, Sebastian let his gaze linger there, wondering what the mild-mannered Miss Prudence would be like without her glasses and all those clothes. Then, with a frown of annoyance at his absurd thoughts, he turned his attention back to her sister.
“Are you sure, Miss Phoebe?” he asked, using his most malevolent tone. “Just in case he talked you into eloping, I must advise you right now that my brother is penniless. He is, in fact, deeply in debt, and can no more support a wife than any other wayward schoolboy.”
The little blonde let out a wail that belied her small size, and set up sobbing afresh. Although Prudence’s arms automatically tightened around her sister, she glanced up at Sebastian, hesitating, as if torn between the two of them.
Since he knew of no earthly reason why this strange woman should show him any loyalty, Sebastian was more than a bit surprised by her behavior, and yet he felt a surge of unfamiliar emotion in reaction. What would it take to earn Prudence Lancaster’s trust—and devotion?
Something
