Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Two days after Verity’s musicale, Sebastian’s thoughts were clouded with disparaging thoughts. He was consumed with thoroughly despising Lord Birchwood, and his whole, musty, dark townhouse.
Still, he sat at the Marquess’s dining table, surrounded by the most prominent members of the ton. Almost all his acquaintances had accepted the invitation to attend this supper, but Sebastian paid them all no mind as his eyes kept straying to Lady Phoebe.
Phoebe.
Her face was sullen, her eyes downcast, as she sat between the Earl and Countess of Tripleton.
Lady Tripleton wore an enormous turquoise brooch in the middle of her chest, drawing attention to her decolletage.
She was perhaps a touch too old to don such baubles, but the Countess, instead of being embarrassed, was rather pleased with herself.
She kept gesturing with her right hand to the brooch and encouraging those sitting nearest to admire the new piece of jewelry.
When she wasn’t collecting half-hearted compliments, Her Ladyship gushed to her neighbors about a friend she had met the other day while shopping on Bond Street.
The gentleman who sat on Lady Tripleton’s left side, Lord Morton, nodded politely and his nostrils flared amusingly when the Countess of Tripleton boasted about another acquaintance her husband had made that would further his business prospects.
Neither the Tripletons or Lord Birchwood had spoken a word to Lady Phoebe since they had sat down, and Sebastian did not like how alone she looked.
Unlike the shimmering golden gown she wore to Verity’s musicale—which resembled a harp Sebastian admired, and that captivated him even during his solo—her dress tonight was entirely different.
This one was a deep, ocean blue that caught the light. It wasn’t necessarily shimmering like her golden dress, instead this one seemed to move. With every slight shift Lady Phoebe made, her dress moved with her, giving the illusion of currents.
Try as he might, Sebastian was captivated and unable to focus on what Lord Fairfield was saying from his left.
“What do you think, Your Grace?”
Finally, his attention was snagged, and Sebastian looked at the lord, a viscount, if he recalled correctly, with raised brows.
“Yes?”
Lord Fairfield frowned. “The vineyard… in Italy?”
Sebastian had barely listened to a word of the conversation but still nodded. “Oh, yes, of course. Yes, yes, I do agree. A particularly viable choice, Lord Fairfield.”
He looked away quickly, hoping his lack of comprehension of the topic was not visible on his face.
“Thank you, Your Grace.” Lord Fairfield appeared rather placated, settling back into his seat.
Sebastian mustered a smile, jerking his head in a nod, as if to say it is my pleasure. The conversation continued around him, but as he took a sip of wine, his eyes lifted to Lady Phoebe. He eyed her quizzically over the rim—
—right as her gaze lifted and they connected.
Something slid through him, something strange and warm, pleasurable without being pleasure itself. Sebastian did not know what to do with the newfound feeling, but those blue eyes of Lady Phoebe’s had ensnared him too much for him to look away.
He gave her a discreet, polite smile, and watched how her cheeks flushed with the attention. He lifted his glass a little in a nod to her, and she sipped from her own cup.
When Sebastian finally looked away, his thoughts strayed to the musicale the other night, and how she had seemed rapt with attention when he had performed.
His song had been a slow ballad, and it had been one moment he had half unmasked before the ton, letting himself be softer and vulnerable before them. Phoebe’s eyes had rounded, and Sebastian had tried to not let his pride get the better of him.
Any musicale Verity hosted, Sebastian always sang.
His voice was his greatest asset, making him one of the Crown’s top spies. Whether he was reading aloud, singing, or holding a conversation, he could enchant any listener and force them to submit to his will.
Sebastian, the Seducer.
Sebastian, the Charmer.
Sebastian, the Poet.
His nicknames had been extensive and joked about by other spies for the Crown. When they mocked him and sought to mimic his deep voice, Sebastian had taken all the gentle jibbing in stride.
He did not allow the weak jokes to unsettle him. He had more going on beneath his exterior, but he never allowed any one of his comrades to draw close enough to examine his deepest fears, regrets, and concerns.
He was more than a man whose words could get a lady’s gown dropping to the floor in an instant. He was more than a charmer who could out-talk a politician and change his views by the time the discussion ended.
He was far, far more than all of that.
But, for now, he was who he needed to be to survive, even if that meant accepting that he had done things in the name of his career of which he was not proud.
After Percy met Verity and fell in love with her, he became determined to convince Sebastian that love, true love, was out there and could surmount all else.
Percy swore to Sebastian that, in time, the right lady would understand his past. She would help him create a future he loved as well as help keep him in the present.
Sebastian had listened closely to Percy’s words. He tried to see sense in those long, emotional speeches. But if he was really being honest with himself and his friend, Sebastian still did not know what a life beyond serving the Crown looked like.
The ton’s flow bored him, and the Crown’s missions kept his life constantly moving. How could he ever give that up? He had witnessed how much better Percy’s life now was, free from danger, more relaxed, especially with his wife at his side, but Sebastian could not be relaxed.
Sebastian had to stay moving.
He had to keep outrunning everything.
Only, he was letting himself be pinned to the spot by those sky-blue eyes that kept gazing at him as though they held secrets.
Sebastian liked secrets. He recalled vividly the words Lady Phoebe had shared with him that night, when nothing but a few wooden slats separated them from one another. He had thrilled at the way she had agreed to tell him more, so long as he led her in the right direction.
He sipped his wine slowly and wondered what other deep desires hid beneath Lady Phoebe’s shy exterior.