Chapter Twenty
It was nearly noon by the time they reached Brighton, the carriage lurching over uneven cobblestones. Rose’s stomach churned, whether from the rough ride or her nerves, she couldn’t say.
“Would you like the windows open?” Mr. Hale asked gently. “The sea air might help.”
She nodded, and he pulled back the covering. Salt-tinged wind rushed in, carrying the sounds of a bustling port—vendors calling their wares, cart wheels clattering, dockhands shouting. Having spent most of her life in the countryside’s quiet embrace, the city’s pulse agitated her.
“Are you all right, my lady?”
“It’s rather jarring.” She pressed her hands together to still their trembling.
He smiled. “We’re accustomed to quiet. You’ll adjust.”
The carriage turned onto a narrower street lined with taverns and boarding houses. Rose’s heart hammered against her ribs. “Will we be able to find Sebastian’s tavern?”
“It’s called the Stag & Anchor,” Hale said, peering out the window. “Ah, there it is now.”
He rapped against the carriage roof, and they lurched to a stop.
Rose stared at the weathered building before them.
A tattered wooden sign depicting a rearing stag and anchor hung from a wrought-iron bracket.
The tavern’s timbers were weathered, its roof patched.
Not exactly a gentleman’s club. This was Sebastian’s world. Thanks to her father.
A group of rough-looking men loitered outside. One spat onto the cobblestones, his eyes narrowing at the sight of her expensive carriage.
Rose’s mouth went dry. “I’m suddenly quite nervous.”
“I’ll be with you every step.” Hale’s voice was steady, reassuring.
She drew a shaking breath. “I’ve come this far.”
“Indeed you have.”
Hale helped her down onto the odorous street. The mingled scents of brine, smoke, and unwashed bodies made her wrinkle her nose, but she lifted her chin and approached the heavy oak door.
A thin boy with unruly brown hair lounged nearby, bare feet dirty against the cobblestones. “Spare a ha’penny, miss? Ain’t eaten today.”
Rose pressed a coin into his palm without hesitation.
“Bless you, fine lady.” He pocketed it and scurried away into the crowd.
Hale opened the tavern door, and Rose stepped inside. Thick air heavy with pipe smoke and cheap ale enveloped her. The few patrons turned to stare at the finely dressed lady who’d appeared in their midst, conversations faltering.
Rose ignored them, her gaze sweeping the dim interior until she found what she sought.
There he was. Sebastian sat at a scarred table near a dust-streaked window, dark hair falling across his brow, sleeves rolled up over strong forearms. Across from him sat a man with honey-colored curls and sharp blue eyes.
Was this his brother, James? They were deep in conversation, heads bent close together.
James noticed her first, his body going rigid as he set down his mug. He murmured something to Sebastian, who turned toward the door.
Sebastian shot to his feet so quickly his chair nearly toppled. His face went pale, then flushed. “Lady Rose?” Her name came out rough, disbelieving. “What are you doing here?”
The familiar sound of his voice made her chest tighten with longing. The smoky air, the curious stares, her racing heart faded into nothing. There was only Sebastian, only this moment, only the truth she’d traveled so far to tell him.
“I’m here to see you.” The words rang clear in the sudden quiet.
Sebastian stared at her, his lips parting in shock. James half-rose from his seat, looking between them with keen interest. The other patrons had gone completely silent, sensing drama unfolding.
Rose took a step forward, her hands trembling at her sides. “Mr. Hale has brought me because I could not wait another moment. I had to see you.”