A Promise of More (34 page)

“Exactly. If the H.B. that Clarice mentioned is Dunmire, we don’t want to do anything to upset him just yet. We want him completely unaware of what we are doing.”

“How did you get so smart? The only way we can get him to talk is if we trap him with the knowledge we have gained. Only then will he talk.”

The dance soon ended and they went back to join the others.

“I see Arend and Maitland have arrived. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go and talk to them. I need to ask them to watch Dunmire.” Sebastian gave Beatrice a beautiful smile, took her hand and pressed his lips to it, and left.

Beatrice excused herself and made her way to the ladies’ retiring room in order to gather her thoughts. As she entered the room, her stomach plummeted at the sight of Christina sitting before the mirror. Tonight had been wonderful so far; she really didn’t want to face Christina’s taunts, for she knew what was coming by the sly look that crossed Christina’s face as Beatrice sat down on the chair next to her.

Their eyes met in the mirror. Christina’s smile could freeze hell. “I had an interesting visitor yesterday,” Christina said. “He seemed to be in need of some feminine company.”

Beatrice tried not to let the pain cross her face at Christina’s words. She knew what had happened when Sebastian visited Christina—nothing of importance. Anyway, it was in the past. There was nothing that Christina could say that would hurt her.

“What, no response? You don’t seem to care your husband of only a few
weeks has already found enjoyment in another woman’s arms.”

“Why do you have to be such a bitch? You had your chance with Sebastian and it didn’t work out. Why can’t you leave us alone?”

Christina’s eyes narrowed. “My chance was interrupted by your brother’s silly duel. If Sebastian had not had to flee England, who knows what would have happened?”

Beatrice looked at her rival with pity. “The duel was because he was in another woman’s bed. If Sebastian had loved you, do you really think he would have been enticed by a courtesan he didn’t even know?”

Christina’s face flushed with color. “Don’t be so naive. Men will always be enticed by a pretty courtesan, but I wanted Sebastian as a husband. I should have taken a leaf out of your book and trapped or blackmailed him. You were more clever than I and now you reap the reward, but just remember, every woman in that ballroom will be trying to bed your husband.” She stood. “And knowing your husband’s reputation, he won’t be backward in accepting. Why do you think he was at my door last night? One woman will never satisfy him.”

Beatrice gave Christina a knowing smile. “I
do
satisfy him, because Sebastian has given me, and me alone, something precious—his heart.” She ran a comb through the ends of her hair. “He came to you last night, but nothing happened, did it? Why was that, do you think?” When Christina remained silent, she added, “He told me everything. He couldn’t bring himself to hurt me. You’re a beautiful woman, Christina. You deserve more from men than to be a plaything. Make a man deserve you. Sebastian certainly didn’t. Not the way he treated you.”

“And you think he’ll treat you any better? You are living a dream, which will quickly turn into a nightmare. I give it twelve months. Then he’ll grow tired of you.”

“I don’t think so. I believe in Sebastian’s love. I believe in him.”

“Then you’ll only be hurt more when you fall. For I promise you, Beatrice. I will have Sebastian as my husband, and not even you will stand in my way.”

“That sounds like a threat.”

Christina smiled before she left the small retiring room. “More a promise.”

The room suddenly went cold as Christina left. The hairs on Beatrice’s arms were standing upright. Christina was up to something and she needed to warn Sebastian.

It wasn’t until she made her way back toward the ballroom that it occurred to
her the only way Christina could marry Sebastian was if she was dead.

Sebastian was trying to pay attention to what Maitland was saying, but he was distracted, waiting for his wife’s return since she had slipped to the retiring room. With a sigh of relief he watched her reenter the ballroom and saw men’s heads turn her way. She looked beautiful this evening, especially with the flash of anger flaring in her eyes. He knew who would have put the anger there, because he had seen Christina reenter the ballroom just ahead of his wife.

He watched as she made her way toward Marisa and Aunt Alison and was pleased when he saw the easy camaraderie among the women. He knew his sisters had grown close to Beatrice and he knew that they were pleased he had married her.

When he had thought she had betrayed him with Lord Dunmire, the rage that had engulfed him reminded him so much of his father that it scared him. He had fallen in love with his wife; what would that do to him in the future? Would he let jealousy taint what they shared?

But as Beatrice had pointed out, if they had trust in each other, if they really did love each other, then there would be no reason to be jealous, for like her, he wouldn’t want to hurt her by being unfaithful with anybody else.

He glanced to the left and saw Christina watching him. How funny that only a few weeks ago the sight of a beautiful woman would have piqued his interest. Now, however, he had lost all desire for any woman other than his wife.

With the danger that was lurking, he knew he should really send her and the girls to his estate near York, but he couldn’t bear to be parted from Beatrice. He knew his feelings for Beatrice were deeper than he’d had for any other woman. She was special.

Just then Lord Donoghue approached his wife and asked for a dance. When she smiled up at him and put her hand in his, the fangs of jealousy bit again. What if the deeper he fell in love with Beatrice, the less he could control this rage? He would have to learn to rein in the emotions he was feeling. He glanced at Maitland and wished for one moment that he could be as cool, calm, and collected as his friend—his emotions never came into play.

He shook his head and decided to rejoin the conversation with the men. They were of course discussing the initials H.B. and the fact they thought H.B. was Lord Dunmire.

“I think we should set a trap for Dunmire,” he heard Maitland saying.

Arend agreed. “The perfect way to trap Dunmire is to give him exactly what he wants, and it appears from your conversation he wants your wife.”

Sebastian thought he must have heard Arend wrong. “You don’t expect me to let my wife become involved in this? I’m not about to let her become a target.”

“We would be there to ensure nothing happened to her,” Arend persisted. “We wouldn’t let her out of our sight for a minute, and if we met somewhere where we could contain him and control the situation, then there is not a chance in hell she could be hurt.”

“You can’t guarantee that. I know things have gone wrong before. You can’t control everything, Arend, even if you want to.”

Maitland said, “What if we trick Dunmire? What if we let it be known that Sebastian has seen her with Henry and assumes that Henry is his son. Why don’t we let him know that Sebastian has thrown her out and that she is living in the house in Old Kent Road?”

Arend nodded. “It’s a good plan. Dunmire would go directly to Old Kent Road and we could be there waiting.”

“No.” He was adamant that Beatrice would not be put in the middle of this. Too many people had already been hurt and he did not wish any harm to come to Beatrice. He was responsible for her. She was her wife. The pain gripping his chest at the idea of her walking into danger sent him reeling.

Hadley came over to join the conversation. He noted the stern looks on his fellow Libertine Scholars’ faces and asked, “I say, has anything happened that I should be aware of?”

Sebastian ran his hand through his hair and said, “I want you to talk some sense into these two. They are suggesting we use Beatrice to trap Dunmire and find out what he knows.”

Hadley looked at each of the three faces around him and then back at Sebastian. “How would they do that?” Sebastian filled him in on their idea and Hadley said, “I actually think it’s a good plan. How much harm can she come to if we are already in the house when he arrives?”

“Come on, Sebastian, you know we would never let anything happen to your wife. I would not suggest this course of action if I thought we could not protect her,” Arend said.

Sebastian was fuming. Hadley made him even madder when he said, “Why don’t we ask Beatrice? She of everyone has the most to lose, and from what Sebastian tells us, she also has the most to gain. She wants Dunmire out of her life just as much as we do.”

Sebastian knew he had lost this battle, because he knew what Beatrice would say if she was consulted. “I will ask her. I’m not happy with this, and if anything happens to Beatrice I’m going to take it out on you.”

With that, he decided to go and find his wife and ask her for a dance.

Beatrice made her way back after her dance with Lord Donoghue to Aunt Alison’s side. Marisa was still out on the dance floor with Lord Rothburg. Aunt Alison handed her a note. “One of the footmen asked me to deliver this to you. I’m assuming it’s from Sebastian. I saw him over the other side of the room moments ago, but he seems to have disappeared.”

She took the note Aunt Alison held out to her with a thrill of excitement. She opened the note and read,
I have some news regarding Dunmire. We do have a plan. Meet me in the bedroom upstairs. It’s the third door on the left and I’ll fill you in on all the details. Yours, Sebastian
.

Beatrice looked around the room and couldn’t see her husband. Nor could she see Dunmire. That worried her slightly—what if this was a trick? But there was only one way to find out. Besides, she had a small pistol tucked into her garter. It wouldn’t kill him but it would wound him enough for her to escape.

She made her way from the ballroom, trying to appear nonchalant, as if she weren’t going off for a rendezvous with anyone, let alone her husband. Once in the hall, she made her way quickly up the stairs and counted the doors on the left until she came to the third one. She didn’t knock on the door; she just tentatively opened it and stuck her head around the opening.

The room was in darkness, apart from the fire in the grate, and it also appeared
to be empty. Perhaps she had beaten Sebastian here. She entered the room and closed the door behind her, making her way across to the fire.

It was only then that she heard the door behind her being locked.

She turned slowly, knowing before she did who was in the room with her—Dunmire.

“I do like a woman who comes when she’s called,” he said as he crept toward her like the rodent he was.

“You must have a death wish to lure me here with my husband in the ballroom below. How long do you think before he notices I’m missing?”

Chapter Eighteen

He laughed like a madman. “Notices you’re missing? Christ, he never even wanted to marry you. A man of his reputation for the ladies won’t come looking for hours. What fun we can have in that time …” He moved closer.

To her horror, Beatrice realized Dunmire had no way of knowing that Sebastian actually loved her.