Chapter 10
Sebastian brushed the droplet of sweat from his brow as he watched the carriage finally roll away from his house.
He liked his friends. He liked them very much. The four of them were close like brothers, and used to always be there for one another. But the years passed and as they all began to marry, it seemed they didn’t know how to handle the new strangeness.
I clearly don’t. This was an absolute disaster. How Isabel can pretend to be so calm, I cannot comprehend it. Why did they think it wise to come here to this miserable place?
Since his friends stepped through the door, he had hardly been able to breathe.
Sebastian was never made nervous by his friends.
And yet he could hardly breathe. His heart had hammered in his chest all night.
He didn’t think he had slept a wink. It had been difficult to focus on anything that was said.
But as the carriage rolled out of sight and Ronan offered a final wave before disappearing, Sebastian could breathe deeply. He relaxed his shoulders.
And he supposed it hadn’t been a nightmare after all. Hadn’t they survived? No one had brought up anything personal or contrary that he could recall. He thought he recalled countless smiles and laughter.
“That went surprisingly well.” He straightened up, remembering Isabel was still in the doorway right behind him. He ushered them back inside as she added, “Don’t you think?”
“They’re nuisances.”
Her smile hardly faltered. “They’re friendly and kind. Very witty gentleman. I can see why you have all cared for one another for so long. As for the house party––”
Turning away, Sebastian started down the hall. “I didn’t want to go.”
It sounded like she huffed. He swore he could feel her warm breath tickling his neck. Sounding like she was close behind him, she said, “Sebastian, we could have talked about it.”
“No, thank you.” He picked up his step.
“I’m short but I’m not slow,” Isabel told him, pointing out she was onto his little trick.
But he wasn’t even trying yet. He widened his stride at once to get himself to the end of the hall before she could make it. “I need to address some work that was missed. That’s all. There’s something I need to tend to.”
From the sound of it, she stopped moving. “But I wish to talk with you.”
“Later,” he promised without much of a real promise.
A minute later, Sebastian was in his study. He always needed some time alone to think. To stew. To process. Pacing about the room, he knew he had been wrong to treat Isabel this way as he had done a dozen times. And yet he couldn’t stop.
It was the step to overcome this manner that was too much for him.
Last night… it was surprising. And I don’t like surprises.
There had been more than enough surprises in his life. That was why he had spent the following years managing them and besting them.
All of this learning had helped keep him alive.
He could tell most folks’ class by their dress, their speech, their walk.
Not only could he tell most jewelry and gold from fake, but he could also often note when someone carried a decent amount of coin.
It helped him as a pickpocket as a child.
Then he learned to survive in the ring, anticipating the next footstep and the next swing.
When he returned to this life, he continued to grow these skills to be prepared.
“Except it wasn’t enough,” Sebastian muttered to his decanter.
He took a long drink and then settled back in his chair to think, to stew. Part of him didn’t even know why he was stewing.
But how was he supposed to talk to Isabel? He hardly knew how to look at her. There was a strange rumbling in his chest when he merely thought about doing something like that. When he thought about her.
Seeing Isabel amongst his dear friends had only exacerbated the feelings. The way she settled so easily amongst his friends had been surprising. But how could he be shocked? His friends had accepted him. And she had accepted him. It seemed likely they would accept each other.
Maybe we should have gone to the house party after all.
Except Sebastian didn’t like being wrong. It meant he had made a mistake and those had a tendency to sting.
“Being close was a mistake,” he announced to the room. Ronan was wrong. The man had hardly been helpful while here, clearly having run to tattle everything to his friends. The other two, Tristan Northcott and Julian Ashcombe, had attempted to take him aside to talk him.
Lord, they thought to give me advice. What the devil do they know?
Because the two of them were considered fine catches in London. Tristan, the Iron Duke, for his stern wisdom and long family line. Julian, for his charm and handsome looks.
As for Sebastian, he had three estates and that was all he could claim as a duke.
No one would want his large fists, too large for dainty glasses at balls.
He was light on his feet but every new lady he danced with would grimace in fear over him treading on them.
Not that he ever did. He could do all things that a duke could and should do, he had made certain of that.
Just because I can dress and dance like a duke doesn’t make me a duke. Not enough of a duke, at least.
Most of the time he didn’t mind the gossip. It never mattered to him so long as he could manage his estate, his holdings, and his work in the ring.
Isabel brought too many variables. Too many risks. She had been a necessary investment, only he didn’t know what to do with it. Having a marriage and a wife had never been part of his plan. He wasn’t prepared and now it was too late. What was he to do?
He shook his head, knowing his thoughts were growing cloudy. There would not be another drink so early in the day. But he would stay here, and let himself think.
Unable to help himself, he replayed memories of the past evening with his friends. Sebastian remembered laughing. And Isabel had laughed. Even this morning, she had giggled over something his friends had said.
What were they saying to her?
“I should have…” Sebastian trailed off as he was no longer certain about what he wanted to say. Or what he should have done.
For a minute, he lingered on the memory of his wife’s laughter. She was a stubborn and bold woman. Admirable. Even amongst the dark walls of Eastwynd, she could brighten the estate with a laugh.
“I should have made her laugh,” he muttered under his breath while he wondered what on earth she would find interesting in him.
Those gentlemen were the people he considered safest, the very people who had helped him along during their university days. They had included him and set examples in friendship, manners, and more that he needed to better understand.
Part of a conversation came back to mind.
He had relaxed during supper with a few drinks in the comfortable atmosphere. Safe and comfortable and warm, he could pretend they were anywhere else and still together.
“She will thaw you yet, Sebastian,” Julian had teased him last night after Isabel had excused herself.
While his friends laughed, Sebastian protested. “I am not frozen.”
“Aren’t you?” Ronan asked.
“I talk and I laugh. I let the lot of you in here, too,” he added pointedly.
Sitting beside him, Julian had given his shoulder a squeeze. “You have a good heart, my good man. But you’ve locked too much of yourself away. It’s time to relax now. To warm up.”
“You make me want to toss you in the fireplace,” Sebastian had muttered in response.
While their conversation had shifted away, he had noted a pointed look from Ronan and even Tristan through the evening. Before they took their leave as well, everyone had sent him stern expressions like they were trying to tell him something.
Sebastian eyed him empty glass and noted his own reflection. Grumpy and out of sorts. He ran a hand through his hair, leaning back, and then sighed.
He needed to put himself to rights. And then he would sort out matters with Isabel one way or another.