Chapter 33
“Wherein the past catches up.”
Sebastian wasn’t sure if it was simply relief he felt as he saw Beau’s carriage and horses, loaded and ready for a long journey. That she really was here, and he’d found her in time was his first concern and the overwhelming relief that he could stop them marrying was beyond anything.
But Beau had betrayed him so utterly ...
Anger, cold and dark and ugly spread through his veins.
He reached down and grabbed hold of the coachman’s pistol, always kept close by in case of highwaymen.
There was no need to check it was loaded and primed.
His staff would never overlook such a consideration.
The gun felt heavy and cold and reassuring in his grasp as he leapt down from the carriage and ran towards the doors of the glowering mansion.
It was strange to think, in all his years of friendship with Beau, he’d never been here before. He knew Beau hated the place, and in truth it surprised him he’d come here at all. It was only a gut feeling that made him think it likely. He could never be more thankful that he’d been right.
Slamming through the heavy oak doors of the entrance with a crash, he stilled and tightened his grip on the gun as Beau appeared, his hand wrapped around Georgiana’s wrist.
“Well, what a surprise,” his friend exclaimed, sounding jovial and relaxed, though there was a febrile glint in his eyes that betrayed him. “Have you come to felicitate us on our impending nuptials, Sindalton?”
“Let her go,” Sebastian shouted in fury, as he fully locked the hammer on the pistol and raised it, levelling it at his friend.
Beau dropped Georgiana’s hand but to his surprise she exclaimed and ran to stand in front of him.
“No! Sebastian, don’t! You’d never forgive yourself.” He watched in fury as Beau gave her a hard shove, sending her stumbling forward, almost losing her footing.
“Bastard!” he shouted, relieved to see Georgiana catch her balance but never taking his eyes off Beau as he stepped closer. His friend just laughed at him.
“I knew I shouldn’t have dallied,” he said, his eyes mocking. “But she was so very sweet, so very innocent ... I just had to have a taste ...”
He didn’t think about it, didn’t have time as rage, pure and cold and furious swept over him and his finger squeezed the trigger.
“No!” Georgiana screamed and the sound of the gun firing rang in his head.
It magnified in the cavernous space and echoed around the gloomy walls of the old house as the judging eyes of generations of Ware’s glared down at him.
He took a breath, aware that Georgiana had pushed him, but before or after he’d fired? Suddenly praying he’d missed he held his breath. But Beau staggered backwards and crumpled to the floor.
“No!” Georgiana screamed, running towards his fallen friend. “My God, Sebastian, what have you done?”
“He hurt you!” he raged, too frozen to take a step closer and see what exactly he had done.
“He didn’t!” she cried, falling beside Beau, her face white with horror. “He never touched me, Sebastian. He wanted to provoke you into killing him!”
“Oh God.”
Sebastian dropped the gun, numb with shock and abhorrence.
He’d relived the past, just as his mother had predicted. But his actions were worse than his father’s ... he’d killed an unarmed man, his closest friend, and now the scandal sheets would lay it all at Georgiana’s feet, just as they’d condemned her mother.
“He’s not dead!” Georgiana exclaimed. “But we need a doctor. He’s bleeding badly.”
They both looked up at a commotion at the front door as Falmouth, Lord Nibley and the most ill-assorted looking bunch of men Sebastian had ever laid eyes on filed into the hall.
“Damn it, Sindalton!” Falmouth said in disgust, striding over to inspect the bleeding figure on the floor.
“What the devil have you done?” He turned to a giant of a man who looked just like an image of a cut-throat in a favourite book about pirates Sebastian had treasured as a boy.
“Mousy, fetch the doctor,” he ordered. “Thank God we stopped to pick him up.”
Sebastian steeled himself and walked over to look down at Beau who was white faced, his breathing harsh.
“You always were a wretched shot, Sin,” he rasped and then bit his lip as Falmouth tore his shirt open. The wound was high in his shoulder and bleeding profusely.
“You bastard,” Sebastian said, his voice quiet. “How could you do it, Beau? You knew I loved her.”
Beau just stared back at him. “I’d burnt my last boat,” he said with a twisted smile, adding only, “You should have killed me.” Before turning his head away.
With relief Sebastian saw that the doctor was none other than Alperton. At least they could rely on him to keep his mouth shut. Georgiana moved from Beau’s side to let the doctor get to him, and after a moment’s hesitation, ran into his arms, sobbing.
“Oh, Sebastian, whatever are we to do?”
He drew his arms around her, holding her tight.
“I don’t know, love. I ...” he began and then stopped, clutching her tightly. “God forgive me, but I wanted him dead. If he had taken you from me ...”
Georgiana clung to him, shaking her head.
“I’m here. I’ll never be anywhere else, but I don’t want him to die.
Sebastian, he was desperate.” She looked up at him, her lovely face stained with tears.
“The men he owes money to, they’ll kill him.
That’s why he said he’d ...” She stopped and swallowed, clutching at his waistcoat.
“He said he’d rather you killed him than . ..”
He held her as she sobbed against his chest. Their attention was taken, though, by the men lifting Beau and taking him upstairs. Alperton turned and came to them, his face grave.
“Will he live?” Sebastian asked, feeling as though his voice came from a great distance away.
The doctor nodded. “For now, certainly. The wound of itself is not serious. It’s missed bone and organs, but it’s the infection that may follow that will be the devil of it. I swear to you I’ll do my best though, your grace.”
“Please,” Sebastian said. “Please do everything.”
Alperton grasped his arm and squeezed. “I’ll do everything I can to keep him alive and you out of another scandal.”
Sebastian nodded, too exhausted to explain it wasn’t only the scandal he feared. Beau had been like the brother he’d never had. He knew he could never forgive him for what he’d done in taking Georgiana, but the idea that he might be responsible for killing him pulled at his heart.
“Come.” Falmouth strode over to them and steered them into a room that proved to be a library. Somehow the earl had taken over and a fire had been lit and he forced a glass of brandy into each their hands.
“We need to get you both back to London,” he said as Lord Nibley entered the room, looking as ashen faced as Sebastian felt.
“Nibley here will swear you were both in his company all evening if it comes to it. The doctor has also agreed that ... if the worst happens, Beau contracted an illness of some description and it aggravated a heart condition no one knew about. There will be no scandal. Do you hear?”
“Oh, God,” Sebastian said, rubbing his hand over his face. “I pray it doesn’t come to that.”
“Don’t we all,” Falmouth snapped. “You’ve plunged us all into the deuce of a tangle, Sindalton!”
It was too much. Sebastian threw his glass at the wall and lunged at the earl, shoving him hard against the wall.
“He abducted her, Falmouth. He was going to force her to marry him!” he yelled. “I wanted the bastard dead! What would you have done if it had been Céleste?”
To his credit the earl didn’t so much as flinch and waved away the men who came bursting through the door as Georgiana exclaimed in horror.
“I wouldn’t have missed,” the earl said with a grim smile, breaking the tension. Sebastian snorted and let out a breath before allowing his hands to fall from Falmouth’s neck.
The earl readjusted his cravat and sent his men out of the room again.
“I do understand,” he added, giving Sebastian another glass and a sympathetic look. “More than you might imagine.”
“That’s not all though,” Georgiana said, her voice little more than a whisper.
The three men turned around to look at her. Her arms were clutched around her shivering frame, the elegant white muslin dress stained red with Beau’s blood. She looked over at Sebastian, her pretty eyes so full of fear that he hated himself for having dragged her into this mess.
He crossed the floor and took her hands, steering her to sit down beside the fire.
“I-I told you I was in trouble,” she said, looking wretched as tears ran down her face.
“It wasn’t Beau threatening you?” he demanded, wondering what the hell else could stand between them. Hadn’t the fates had enough? Did every generation of their family have to suffer for their parent’s unhappy marriages?
She shook her head. “Beau would never have hurt me, Sebastian, you know that. B-but my uncle, he would. He did.”
“What?”
With horror they listened as she revealed in a halting voice her terrifying encounter with the baron.
“I’ll kill him,” Sebastian raged. “How dare he lay his hands on you, the bastard!”
“No,” Falmouth said, his eyes dark. “You’ll not kill him. We’ve already got the possibility of one body to account for. I’ll not willingly add another.”
“Then you think we should let him get away with it?” Sebastian demanded. His fists clenched with impotent fury. What in the name of God did he have to do to keep this woman safe?
“Of course not, and you will be free to beat him to a pulp I assure you. Just don’t kill him,” Falmouth said with a touch of impatience. “But you’re right about one thing, Sindalton. I think it’s time we paid the baron a little visit.”
“Sebastian!” He looked around to see Georgiana looking terrified and wide-eyed with shock. “He’s my guardian, we can’t marry without his consent.”
“Oh, don’t worry, love,” he said with a grim smile. “He’ll give his consent.”
***
The moonlit journey back to London was long and relieved only by the fact of having Georgiana safe in his arms. She was quiet and still, too shocked to sleep, and too weary to do anything but gaze out of the window at the silvered landscape with eyes that saw nothing at all.
If she was seeing anything, he suspected the scene was the same as he was replaying.
That dreadful moment when the gun had fired, and his childhood friend had staggered back as the bullet drove into his flesh.
Sebastian screwed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t want Beau dead, though he hated him for what he’d done. But he knew too, if he stood there again in that moment, he’d do exactly the same thing.