Chapter Thirty-One
Every time the train rattled and shook, Sebastian became more convinced that he’d bruised his ribs.
He’d somehow managed to get himself into a comfortable position, nearly an hour out from their arrival in Derbyshire.
Typically, this would be the point in the journey in which the changing countryside lifted his spirits.
However, the pitch blackness outside the train window did not afford him that luxury.
The only luxury he did have was currently leaned against his shoulder.
Augusta, seated next to him, had fallen asleep early on in the ride.
Slowly, ever so slowly, her sleeping form slid closer to him, with her head finally resting upon his right shoulder.
He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the warmth of her until he had it again.
Hopefully it lasted far beyond this train ride. Were it not for Reginald seated across from them, his arms crossed and his face dour as he looked at the darkness beyond the window, the moment might have been perfect.
“How long will you be in Derbyshire with us?” he asked Reginald - quietly, of course, so as to keep Augusta sleeping.
“Not long,” Reginald replied curtly. “I have a ticket to America for next Tuesday.”
Sebastian suppressed the urge to raise his brow in surprise. “America?”
Reginald did not look at him when he nodded. “Yes. To Boston, specifically. I…have some business to take care of.”
Sebastian frowned. “What business?”
Pain crossed Reginald’s face, and Sebastian thought that he was going to hear something incredibly important. Then, the man pulled himself together. He turned back toward Sebastian, his eyes flitting between him and Augusta.
“I am going to seek my own forgiveness from someone.”
Sebastian felt the weight of Augusta on him more deeply now, all the way into his core. “I don't know that I have found forgiveness. Not completely.”
Reginald rolled his eyes. “I know my sister all too well. She will forgive you. She will simply make you sweat for a time before she makes it obvious.”
“I hope so. It would be a shame to have gone all the way to prison for nothing.”
His friend, who had thus far been pensive and stern, gave a half-smile. “It certainly was not for nothing.”
Augusta stirred, then, giving a sleepy sigh as she shifted against Sebastian. In the end, she left him bereft of her warmth when her eyes fluttered open and she sat up suddenly, looking about the train car with pink cheeks.
“Sorry,” she said, her voice husky from sleep. She moved away from Sebastian, putting space between them that he immediately wanted to reclaim.
“I did not mind at all,” he said, but his words did not lessen the gap that separated them.
Augusta did not respond directly to him, instead glancing about the car until her eyes fell on the darkness outside.
“How far are we?” she asked Reginald.
“We should be there soon, if I am to guess. I sent Milly ahead, so the footman ought to be waiting to take us to the house. You two can stay tonight, and then go to Sebastian’s estate after breakfast tomorrow. I’m sure his mother is in a right state at the moment, if she has heard the news.”
Sebastian cringed. In his aim to get back in the good graces of his wife, he had not thought so much about his mother and Georgie. They would be aghast at his actions. However, Augusta’s presence would be a great balm - they’d always whinged about not having enough company of ladies.
*****
Reginald was the greatest trickster who had ever walked the earth. He was, Sebastian decided, also the greatest friend who had ever walked the earth.
“I only had the west wing guest room made up for you,” Reginald said as the trio ascended the manor stairs, lighted only by a few candles. “You’ll have to make do with one another for tonight.”
Both Sebastian and Augusta halted on the stairs in mutual horror.
“What about my old bedroom?” Augusta asked.
“It is being renovated,” he said coolly, hardly casting her a glance. Sebastian knew that he was lying, but before either he or Augusta could administer a protest, Reginald quickened his pace and disappeared into the second floor hallway.
The silence which surrounded Sebastian and his wife was palpable. It was Augusta who broke it in the end.
“It is only for one night,” she said quietly. “We ought to be able to make it work for that long, don’t you think?”
They ought to, he agreed. Still, the fear of being in close quarters both excited and terrified him. A night together could be his chance to completely reconcile his marriage.
It could also be his chance to completely muck things up.
Whatever occurred, he could not change it now.
Together, they trudged their way up the last of the stairs, where Augusta led the both of them to the west wing.
It was a part of the home that Sebastian had never been to before, a more intimate part of the Browning family that Augusta seemed so familiar with as she pushed open the door.
It was a rather small bedroom, as guest bedrooms went. A crackling fire had warmed the space clear through, making the air heady.
Augusta walked into the room with squared shoulders, like a woman walking into battle. As Sebastian shut the door behind him, she spun on her heel.
“I would just like to say that…well, you were excellent today.” She crossed her arms. “And I appreciate everything you’ve done. Well, everything you’ve done in the last week, specifically.”
She looked down at her hands, fiddling with her fingers.
“And I think that if you did kiss me, I wouldn’t hit you. Not tonight, anyways.”
Sebastian blinked once, then twice, uncertain if he’d actually heard her correctly.
“Might I take that to mean that you will allow me to sleep on the bed and not on the chaise, then?”
Her serious expression cracked, turning into a broad smile. “Yes. After the day we’ve had, I believe we both deserve the bed in equal measure.”
Sebastian glanced at the hearth. “Before we go to it, would you indulge me in a sit by the fire?”
Augusta followed his gaze. “Yes, I believe that was part of our negotiation. We can commence sleigh rides on the morrow, as well.”
She was teasing him, he knew, but it did not lessen the sense of victory he felt as they moved toward the fireplace.
He thought, at first, that she might take one of the chairs as a barrier against being too close to him.
So when she sat squarely on the rug, he took it as a sign that he might be allowed closer.
He seated himself down next to her (curse his damned bruised ribs), leaving only the smallest gap between them. Augusta’s warmth was enhanced by the heat of the fire before them.
He warred with himself for some time on how he was going to kiss her. Would it be best to start with a peck on the cheek? Or should he woo her with something deeper, more passionate?
“You need not think so hard about it.”
Augusta’s voice surprised him. Not only teasing him now, but goading him. If ever there was a moment to fully close the gap between them, now was it.
He looked down at her, and she turned to look up at him, and the firelight danced across her lovely face, and the choice did not seem so complicated anymore.
When their lips met, she yielded, allowing him to feel the full softness of her mouth, to take in the way that she smelled like soot and gravel and for some strange reason, that alighted him like nothing else ever had.
He laid his hand upon her waist as all the blood rushed to one particular area of his body, and…
“Agh.” A sharp pain radiating through his ribs. He clutched at them, which only served to make the pain more searing.
Augusta pulled back, her eyes wide. “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” he said, his groan betraying the fact that he was very much not alright. “I just hurt my side.”
It was a great understatement. Augusta’s knit brow indicated that she was well aware of this.
“Oh goodness,” she breathed. “Let us get you to the bed.”
She stood, looking down at him with great concern.
He was tempted to wave off her worries, to try and get them back to where they’d been only moments ago. The pain, however, spoke directly to him: You’ll not be getting rid of me tonight.
He could not woo and bed his wife (should she even allow him to get that far) with any sort of finesse in this condition. And he could not afford to fumble the opportunity placed before him.
Thankfully, his wife led the way.
“Here,” she said. “Come to bed.”
Oh, how he’d hoped to hear those words from her. As he stood, however, he was reminded that the statement was one of pity, for right then another pain shot down his side.
No matter, he decided as they moved toward the bed, led by Augusta. He was going to sleep in his wife’s arms once again. That was a victory that no one, not even his own mind, could take away from him.