Epilogue
Sebastian
Having to eat one’s own words was a difficult thing, but sometimes it must be done. Sebastian braced himself when his butler, Riggs, appeared in the doorway of his study.
“Miss Hu is here, Your Grace,” he said, blank-faced in that manner that he often was, making it impossible to tell whether he approved. If he knew who Miss Hu was, he might not.
Sebastian frowned.
“Not Lady Hu?” he asked.
He’d contacted Lady Hu, the matchmaker, not her granddaughter.
Miss Hu was…
“No, just Miss Hu, Your Grace.” Riggs’ expression did not change, but Sebastian felt somehow sure there was disapproval there. Or perhaps it was his own emotions he was feeling.
“Yes. Well.” Sebastian cleared his throat.
“Send her in.” He could not, in good conscience, send her away without at least greeting her.
If she were not friends with his sister and the wives of several of his friends, it might be different, but he would hear about it for days if he did not meet with her.
He would likely hear about it for days over using a matchmaker, regardless, but it would be far worse if he made an appointment, then sent her away. Even if he had made the appointment with Lady Hu and not her granddaughter.
Riggs returned a moment later with Miss Hu.
At least Sebastian was braced for seeing her again.
She was, in a word, stunning.
It was not just the wealth of her long ebony hair, the velvet of her dark brown eyes, or the pink rosebud of her perfectly formed lips…
It was also the way she held herself. With confidence.
With self-assurance. With a kind of calm that emanated from her, regardless of what was happening around her.
Considering she’d been swimming through the upper echelons of British Society for several months now, those were admirable traits to have.
Especially in comparison to the near-frenetic energy of most debutantes.
Every time he encountered her, he was struck with a completely unfathomable desire to be near her. Closer to her. Which, of course, was ridiculous.
Dukes did not mingle with matchmakers.
It was all well and good for the ladies and his married friends, but he was not looking to have a matchmaker decide his future for him.
Well.
He had not been.
The situation had changed. Because he needed a wife and heir, but he also needed to be free to leave London and return to his estate. He and his friends had finally identified a new thread to pull in the investigation into who had murdered their fathers, and that thread required he return home.
Sebastian was itching to do so and to discover whether Aaron Heywood was indeed currently employed by him, and if the man had anything to do with the death of his father and the other dukes.
It was possible the man Tiffany remembered was not Aaron Heywood, but Sebastian did not believe in such coincidences.
Right now, he needed to be both in London and at his estate, at the same time.
Such a thing was impossible, and it had become too difficult to try to choose a bride in haste when there were so many options.
Sebastian hoped Lady Hu would be able to help him narrow down his options and perhaps even help him choose the perfect one.
He had hoped to have as little to do with her granddaughter as possible.
“Miss Hu,” Riggs announced, appearing in Sebastian’s doorway again, then stepping aside to admit the young lady as Sebastian got to his feet.
Bracing himself for the effect she always had on him, Sebastian did his best not to notice how very charming her emerald-green-and-black outfit was.
She often wore traditional Chinese garments, though he had seen her occasionally don a more English style of dress.
Today, she had opted for the former, her hair up in a complicated-looking knot with sticks pinning it in place, small charms hanging from the ends.
“Miss Hu,” he said, bowing in greeting and gesturing to one of the chairs across from his desk. “Please, have a seat. I take it your grandmother is not joining us today?”
If she heard the censure in his voice, she did not show it. Gliding forward, Miss Hu smiled at him. A small social smile, the kind she usually wore when dealing with Society. Sebastian had seen her real smile, the one she used with her friends, and this was not it.
To be disappointed that she used her social smile with him instead was ridiculous.
“Your Grace.” She curtsied before seating herself and folding her hands neatly on her lap as she studied him.
Cool, calm, collected, and with a gaze that seemed to pierce right through him.
Sometimes, he wondered exactly what it was she saw as an outsider looking into the intricacies and foibles of upper-crust English Society.
As ever, her face was a mask, hiding her opinions.
“Unfortunately, my grandmother is not feeling well today. I assure you, everything we discuss will be passed on from me to her but otherwise held in confidence.”
“Right.” Sebastian smoothed his hand over his waistcoat as he sat down. “I suppose you mean that you will not discuss my request for your grandmother’s services with my sister and the others?” He raised his eyebrow, but Miss Hu nodded serenely.
“That is exactly what I mean. Of course, if you are pleased with the match, it would be lovely if you would pass on a recommendation to others, but it is not a requirement.”
If she remembered his statements about dukes not needing matchmakers, she did not indicate it, by word or look. Whatever her thoughts about him, they were carefully tucked away in her mind.
Strangely, he believed she would not tell Tiffany or her other friends that he was acquiring her grandmother’s services. He did not have to eat crow unless he chose to. Though it hardly seemed honorable to reap a benefit without acknowledgment where acknowledgment was due.
He would cross that bridge when he came to it.
“Yes. Well.” Sebastian studied her. Facing her instead of her grandmother was making him feel rather unbalanced.
If she was at all discomfited, it did not show.
“Perhaps we should start with your requirements,” she suggested. “What attributes would you like your wife to have?”
That did seem the proper place to start, yet it felt very odd to be discussing such things with a woman.
A young woman, at that, of the same age as the ladies he would be courting.
Part of the appeal of using her grandmother was that the matrons of the ton tended to assist their sons and grandsons with matrimonial matters.
His mother, unfortunately, could not be trusted.
Not after he’d seen the way she was with Tiffany.
Not after he’d realized there was an entire side of her that he had never known existed and that she could be so awful to his sister.
There was still a part of him that could not believe it, but he had seen it with his own eyes, heard her cruel words with his own ears.
She’d insisted he did not understand, but he’d still exiled her to the countryside to rusticate for the rest of this Season.
Sebastian cleared his throat. Miss Hu would be passing the information along to her grandmother. Perhaps he could pretend she was her grandmother. His gaze dropped to the desk in front of him, as looking at her did not help with the pretense.
“The ability to run my household,” he said. “So, she must be intelligent. Beautiful. Kind. Able to hold a conversation.”
“What would you like to be able to converse with her about?” Miss Hu asked.
Was there a hint of amusement in her voice? Sebastian glanced up at her. If there was, it did not show in her expression.
“Art? Music? History? Current events? Politics?”
Sebastian stared at her. Was she jesting?
Most debutantes he met could scarcely talk about the first two topics.
His sister was a bit of a bluestocking, and even she eschewed history and politics, and her interest in current events was focused on whatever musical talent was being featured at the opera.
“Whatever interests her,” he finally said. Which got his first response from Miss Hu as her delicate eyebrows rose for just a moment before returning to her blank expression.
“Interesting,” she said after a moment. “No preferred subjects at all?”
“Truly engaging conversation happens when at least one of the participants is enthusiastic about the topic,” he said, fighting the urge to twitch.
Part of him wanted to ask if she should be writing some of this down for her grandmother, but the intense scrutiny of her gaze convinced him it was unnecessary.
He only wanted to ask because her intent contemplation of him was so unnerving, and he knew it.
“If it is something that she is passionate about, the conversation will be far superior. Hopefully, she will also enjoy listening to my interests, but I do not expect her to cater to them exclusively.”
There was another long moment, and he swore he felt like Miss Hu was studying him even harder. As if that were possible.
“What interests would you say you have?” she asked when the silence stretched.
Before he could answer, there was the sudden sound of a commotion down the hall—quite a commotion since anything happening in the foyer that was loud enough to be heard in his study was very loud.
And it did not immediately quiet. There were quite a few raised voices, as well as what sounded like the banging of very heavy objects being put down on the floor.
Frowning, Sebastian got to his feet.
“Excuse me, Miss Hu,” he said. “I should see what is going on. Please wait here.”
He had just rounded the desk, Miss Hu’s alert gaze following him, when Riggs came running into the room. Sebastian gaped at him. Riggs never ran.
“Your Grace… Her Grace…” The man was positively puffing, looking as though he was about to have an apoplexy, even though it was a very short distance to run.
“Which her Grace?” Sebastian asked immediately, a sick feeling stirring in his stomach. But no. Surely not. He’d made himself completely clear—
“Your lady mother—” Riggs was cut off as the woman in question appeared in the doorway to Sebastian’s study.
Dressed in a dramatic gown of chartreuse and ivory, her Grace, the Duchess of Bolton, came to a halt and beamed at Sebastian as if her presence in the London house was not against his express orders.
“There’s my darling boy!” It was the same way she always greeted him when they’d been apart for any length of time, and Sebastian felt the tug in his chest. The boy, the young man, who wanted his mother’s attention and affection, who was so happy to see her.
Right now, looking at her bright smile, it was hard to remember how she’d spoken to Tiffany. Hard to believe she’d shrieked at him like a harpy the last time they’d spoken and told him that he was breaking her heart and that she would likely die from it before he laid eyes on her again.
Seeing her now, looking at him with the warmth and love she always did, it felt like maybe he’d dreamed that last conversation.
That perhaps he was somehow misremembering it.
Because surely, she would not be smiling like this now if it had truly been that bad.
Yet he knew it had been, so he could not align what had happened with her smiling joy now.
“Mother,” he said, after a beat. “What are you doing here?”
She trilled a laugh.
“What am I doing here? Why I am here to help you find a bride, of course!”
The blood in Sebastian’s veins froze. He looked from his mother to the stoic Miss Hu, then back to his mother.
Bloody hell.
Sebastian, his matchmaker, and his mother return in The Duke’s Indecent Desires.