Chapter Thirteen
The next day, Sebastian was taking his usual morning coffee at White’s, and feeling exceptionally pleased with himself. Last night’s session in the House of Lords had been productive. There had been very little wrangling on several important votes and all had gone as he’d hoped.
It had been the finish of a wonderful day.
Not a perfect one. He had gone home to sleep alone.
But his dreams had been of Cassie, and what it might be like to meet her over the dinner table, after a night of politics.
In his sleep, he’d offered her a kiss on the cheek, basked in her smiles, as she took her seat beside him.
She had been wearing a white gown, the amber pin glittering on her left breast, and staring at him with a devoted smile.
After a pudding of apricots and cream, he had suggested that they retire, and she’d followed him up the stairs to his room.
And then, the dream had ended, just when it should have been getting interesting.
Strangely, he had not minded. While there was a lot to be said for lurid, erotic fantasies, the women in them never stayed to breakfast. They might declare him a god in the bedroom, but evaporated like smoke before making him feel whole, or real or good.
The idea that he could have both a lover and a friend was a novelty.
He had known from the first moment he’d seen her that he had wanted Cassie to share his bed.
When he’d recognized her love, it seemed only natural that they should marry.
But only lately had they begun to talk, and he wanted more of it.
Their chats were rarely private and far too short.
If they could have a proper courtship, innocent conversation would be encouraged.
But they could only have that with Septon’s permission.
Technically, his sister was of age and could make her own decisions.
But that did not mean that Julian could not make the way forward difficult.
If he withdrew his financial support, she might have to leave London.
Or, he could do as Sebastian had done to Blake and encourage her to travel somewhere that he would never think of looking for her.
There was also the fact that Cassie loved her brother and would not want to cross him by choosing a husband he did not like.
This was probably the reason she was so reticent to admit how they’d met.
But if she accepted him, the next time he offered, he did not want her to have to choose between the two of them.
He had to negotiate a truce with Septon.
Since Julian had just entered the room and was coming towards him, now might be a good time to practice his diplomacy. He smiled and gestured to the chair beside him. ‘Good morning, Septon.’
His friend signalled a waiter to bring his tea and took his usual seat. Then, he gave Sebastian a curious look. ‘You are in an exceptionally good mood this morning.’
‘Indeed,’ he said, still smiling. ‘I slept well.’
‘With whom?’ Julian said with a sly smile.
‘Alone,’ he replied, setting his coffee aside.
Now Julian stared in amazement. ‘That was not what I was expecting to hear.’
‘People change,’ he said with a shrug. ‘You are not the man you were a year ago.’
‘Because I married,’ Julian agreed.
‘So you have not been there to notice my absence at any of our old haunts,’ Sebastian said.
Julian laughed. ‘I cannot believe it.’ It was an annoying reaction, but not unexpected.
Sebastian kept his expression and tone neutral, as if it did not matter to him. ‘It is harder to prove a negative than a positive. When I go to bed alone, taking someone to witness and report the truth rather defeats the point.’
Septon sipped his tea. ‘I suppose that is true.’
‘And is marriage still everything you hoped for?’ Sebastian prompted. ‘Because, I was thinking I might…’
Before he could finish this, a shadow fell across the two of them and he looked up to see Gerald Balard standing nervously in front of them. As usual, Balard was perfectly pressed and band box fresh.
Sebastian reached for his coffee again and pretended that his grimace was due to the bitterness of the beans and not the overwhelming loathing he felt for the man.
Without waiting for an invitation, Balard took the third chair in their little group and glanced from one of them to the other. Then, he signalled the waiter and asked for a cup of tea.
It was far from an unusual request. But it was the same beverage that Septon was drinking. The fact seemed significant.
He looked hopefully in Julian’s direction.
Julian drank again and looked over his cup at the interloper. ‘Good morning, Balard.’
‘Good morning, Your Grace,’ he said. ‘I just wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed sharing your box at the theatre the other night.’
‘There was space,’ Julian said. ‘I saw no reason why you could not share it.’
It was not a particularly enthusiastic response, and a little of Balard’s cheerfulness seemed to drain away. Then he rallied. ‘It was kind, all the same. I enjoyed Miss Fisk’s company, as well.’
‘I see.’ Julian went back to his tea, not making it any easier on the fellow.
Though his smile was not obvious, Sebastian knew him well and could see the very faint curve in his lips as the silence stretched to awkwardness.
Then he looked directly at Balard and said, ‘Was there something else you wished to say?’
‘Yes, Your Grace.’ Balard squirmed in his chair, reached for his tea and spilled a bit into the saucer, then set it down again.
‘You had best be about it, then,’ Julian said.
‘It is about Miss Fisk,’ he said, and took a deep breath. ‘I mean to propose to her tonight, at the Fallon ball.’ Then he added, ‘With your permission, of course.’
Sebastian took another sip of his coffee, staring down into the dregs and wishing he was not forced to witness this conversation he should have no part in.
God, how he hated Balard. He hated every last neatly trimmed hair on his head, and each overly white tooth in his broad, innocent smile.
He was rich and good-looking and earnest. And as flavourless as unripe cheese.
What he hated most of all was that there was no reason for Septon to refuse him. He would be an ideal husband for someone’s sister. Inoffensive. Neutered. No threat at all.
Julian knew it as well and could not resist toying with him. ‘To discuss it here is rather unconventional,’ he said, giving the fellow a sidelong look.
‘I could not wait a moment longer,’ Balard admitted. ‘The other night was delightful. I have not stopped thinking of it since.’
‘The evening was delightful?’ Julian said, raising his eyebrow.
‘And Cassandra was, as well.’
Julian frowned.
‘I mean, Miss Fisk,’ Balard corrected.
Julian paused again, allowing the tension to build. Then, he said, ‘Well, you will have no objection from me.’
Balard exhaled his held breath. ‘That is good to know.’
‘The matter is between you and my sister,’ Julian reminded him.
Sebastian stared into his empty cup. It was too soon. Far too soon. He had just begun to make headway with Cassie, only to have another man step in front of him. Balard was the sensible choice and she was a sensible girl.
‘I think I can handle Cassandra,’ said Balard with another earnest grin.
The disgusting display of self-confidence annoyed Sebastian all the more. It sounded as if he meant to brush any objections aside.
Even Julian seemed dubious. He gave Balard another thoughtful look. ‘When the moment comes, do not mention horses.’
‘No horses,’ Balard said, with an obedient nod.
Horses? Why would a man who had the undivided attention of Cassandra Fisk want to waste precious time talking of that?
‘If that is all?’ Julian gave Balard an expectant look.
‘Of course, Your Grace,’ he said with a bob of his head. ‘Thank you so much for sparing the time.’
‘Good luck,’ Julian added, then went back to his tea. Once the man was gone, he set the cup aside and called for the waiter, ‘Brandy.’ He glanced at Sebastian, then said, ‘Two.’
Sebastian looked at his watch. ‘It is before noon.’
Julian laughed. ‘When has that ever mattered to you? Besides, we have reason to celebrate.’
One of them did, perhaps. But at this point, there was little he could do but play along. So, he accepted the drink and offered his thanks.
Julian smiled and took a reverent sip. ‘Glad to have that over with.’
‘What?’ Sebastian said, trying to focus on his friend.
‘The matter of Cassandra,’ Julian said. ‘Getting her launched and hitched.’
‘You think that is your job, do you?’ Sebastian said.
‘As head of her family? It rather is.’ Julian frowned for a moment. ‘My father did not do right by her. I needed to make up for those years of neglect. Getting her married to the right sort of man is the least I can do.’
‘And Balard is that man?’
‘He’s the best so far.’ Julian took another sip. ‘Rutland was a disappointment, as you well know. And Blake?’ He sighed. ‘Not ideal. He has taken himself out of the running, which is just as well. But Balard?’ He stared towards the door that the man had left through. ‘He has promise.’
‘I suppose he does,’ Sebastian said. This was the moment he should offer his well wishes for the happy couple. But words had power and the last thing he wanted to do was to hex his own chances by supporting his adversary.
He said nothing more about it and tossed off the last of his drink. Then, he stood up and smiled down at Julian. ‘I must be off. I have an appointment this afternoon and must not be late.’
‘Will we see you tonight at the Fallon ball?’
‘I have not thought that far ahead,’ Sebastian said.
‘You never do,’ Julian said, shaking his head as if he knew.
He did not know.
He would have been exceptionally surprised to find that Sebastian went no farther than the reading room where he scribbled out two letters, sealed them up and handed them to a footman with instructions for delivery and a generous stipend to be sure his orders were followed.