Chapter 9
“Is something the matter, Your Grace?” Reginald, one of Sebastian’s many butlers, asked. Having done so because he must have seen the doubt creep onto Sebastian’s face.
“No,” Sebastian said carefully, not entirely certain how he felt or what he was thinking.
“As you say.” Reginald offered a short bow. “If there is nothing else, I will leave you.”
“Wait,” Sebastian called after him.
“Your Grace?”
There was one thing that Sebastian needed from his butler, but only in the most unusual of circumstances did he find that he did not know whether to ask for it or not.
He was caught in two minds, logic fighting against pesky desires that he could not fully explain, and the sensation left him wrong-footed and undecided in ways that were anathema to Sebastian.
He was sitting at the desk in his study, having just opened and read a letter that was delivered not five minutes ago.
Under normal circumstances, the letter would not have given him a second thought—a simple request from a close friend to stop by on the morrow, as he was passing by and had yet to see him since before the wedding.
A most inconsequential request, but with consequences that feel far more dire than they should. A most frustrating circumstance that is slowly becoming too obvious to ignore, even if I would very much like to do just that!
With this friend of his stopping by, Sebastian would need to instruct his wife on how to behave and what was expected. Not that she did not know, but after her little outburst two days ago, he needed to make sure that she would not do anything rash.
However, and for reasons that Sebastian was struggling to explain or rationalize, he had lately been flooded by feelings of…
Was it guilt? Was it shame? Did he feel embarrassed by the way he had been acting and what he had put his wife through?
I should not care! She knows what this is, as well as I do. Dammit, she has been at pains to keep me at arm’s length. What does it matter what she thinks of me when this entire fiasco is nothing more than a big lie, which we both are eagerly awaiting a way out of?
The justifications made sense, and Sebastian knew that he should not give a damn about his wife’s feelings. But as he considered it a little further, he could not ignore the sense that he had done something wrong. That his wife, as tempestuous and frustrating as she was, deserved more.
“My wife,” he said finally, having come to a decision. “Fetch her at once.”
“As you say,” Reginald said with another bow.
About to hurry out of the room, Sebastian was forced to add, “And Reginald, do not take no for an answer. She is to see me at once, and please make it clear to her that I am waiting.”
“Your Grace.” Another bow, and Reginald shuffled out of the room.
They had not spoken since the night of the garden party. This was not a surprise, as Helena made it all too clear how she felt about interactions outside of the public eye. And while this should have been fine with Sebastian, he felt that something was wrong.
He had never meant to treat his wife so coldly. He had never meant to confuse her or trick her or give her the impression that she meant less to him than a nail might to a hammer.
It was more a case of him being careful, not wanting to give the wrong idea, needing her to understand that this marriage was one of convenience only.
Ironically, by treating her so dispassionately with one hand, and so lovingly with the other, he might have made things worse. She was confused, angry, and rightly frustrated by his behavior.
With his friend coming tomorrow, and more months of this marriage to get through, it was time that they cleared a few things up.
And hopefully, not make things worse in the process. Although if history is anything to go by, I would say that is almost as certain as the sun rising on the morrow.
A knock sounded at the door a few moments later, and Helena stepped into the room. She only took one step, careful to remain by the exit as if already planning her escape.
“Ah, Helena.” Sebastian smiled. “Thank you for coming to see me.”
“It was made quite clear to me that I had no choice.” Her tone was cold and removed, and the way she looked at him, the scowl on her face, told him that he was right about their need to talk.
It also told him that this was going to be harder than he had thought.
“Would you like to sit?” He indicated the chair across from the desk.
“I am fine,” she said, not moving.
Sebastian could not help but chuckle. He and Helena did not get along, but there was something about her rebellious nature, how damn stubborn and strong-willed she was, that he enjoyed immensely.
Having dealt with peers and their daughters his entire life, it was no exaggeration to say that his wife was unlike anyone he’d ever met.
“As you say.” He straightened up and dropped the smile. “It has just been brought to my attention that we will have a visitor tomorrow. A close friend of mine, Lord Ashford. He is on his way home from a trip and wishes to stop by and pay his respects.”
“And?” she prompted.
“And…” Sebastian felt the urge to rise to the bait. A sarcastic comment, perhaps? But he suppressed that urge. “He will only be here for an hour or two, I suspect. So nothing too intrusive. I will have lunch served, and I expect you to join us.”
“Is that all?”
Oh yes, she was doing everything in her power to stay true to what she told him. That this marriage was one of convenience only, and when the convenience was no longer needed, she and he would be little more than strangers. No sense trying to make this marriage more than it needed to be.
But that was dangerous to do. There was tension between them, a powder keg just waiting to explode. This marriage would never turn into something more, but that didn’t mean it had to be so hostile. Surely, a middle ground could be reached?
I need this marriage to be believed, and I cannot risk the truth getting out. Even if that means swallowing my pride and…
Sebastian grimaced to himself.
And apologizing.
“No,” he said with an exaggerated sigh. “That is not all. I have been doing some thinking these past two days, and I’ve concluded that you and I need to talk.”
She scoffed. “We do not. I told you already the reason, and I do not see why it needs to be elaborated on. I will not embarrass you with your friend,” she added. “I will not do or say anything that might jeopardize this lie we find ourselves in. I assure you, there is no need to worry.”
“Are you certain about that?”
“May I go?” She half-turned to leave.
“And if I wish to apologize?” Sebastian said, doing what he could to look earnest. No smirk. No humor. Pure honesty for a damn change. “Then might we talk?”
“Apologize?” Helena hesitated, her brow furrowed, distrust flashing in her eyes because, as things stood, she had every reason to assume he was lying. “Apologize for what?”
“A great many things, I am sure.” He let out a deep sigh. “But in this instance, the way I have been treating you might be a good place to start.”
She was still looking at him as if she thought he was lying. “I do not understand. Treating me how? So far, you have done exactly as you said. Why apologize for it?”
“I think we both know that is not true,” he countered. “Look…”
He exhaled and rose from his seat. Helena stiffened and leaned away, again as if she meant to turn around and run.
“This marriage was as unexpected for me as it was for you. And in the face of that confusion, I admit that I acted a little…” He clicked his tongue as he tried to find the right word.
“Arrogant,” she offered. “Smug. Pigheaded and—”
“Yes, yes,” he cut her off. “I behaved like a boar. I got into my head that the only thing that mattered was how the ton perceived us, failing to consider that what happened within these walls was just as important and consequential as what happens outside of them.” He breathed out and again made sure his expression was earnest. “I was wrong, and I am only just starting to realize this.”
He could see her warring with herself. That urge to dismiss his apology as some sort of trick and her desire to believe it.
“What are you…” She gave her head a shake as if to clear it. “What are you saying?”
“I am saying that in the way I have treated you, I have muddled things. I treated you as little more than a prop, and that was wrong to do. I am not suggesting that you and I…” He chuckled because he could not help himself.
“We are not going to fall in love. We are not going to become star-crossed lovers worthy of one of your stories. But for this to work, I dare say that we should start treating one another as human beings.”
“Are you capable of that?” she asked sharply.
“I am,” he replied simply, not rising to the bait. “Are you?”
Again, she studied him. This time, she looked at him in a way she had not before. Her eyes flicked over him. She bit her lower lip. She seemed caught between two worlds, the stubborn side of her rallying against common sense.
“Do not expect me to start behaving like some subservient housewife,” she warned. “What I said before about my writing and my free time—my life as it is—will not change.”
“Nor will I try to change it.”
“But if…” He could see her starting to come around. “But if you wish to stop avoiding me, then perhaps that will not be such a bad thing.”
“I only ask that we are companionable to the degree that we can stand to be around each other without wanting to bite one another’s heads off,” he made sure to say. “Outside these walls, and in the company of others, I will continue to act as I have.”
She snorted. “Somehow, I sense that comes easily for you.”
He could not help but laugh. “I should have been an actor. Alas, I was born to be a duke.”
She rolled her eyes, but there was a smile there now, a visible change that had Sebastian breathing a sigh of relief. “Might I say something?”
“Of course.”
“When we are in the public eye, there is no need to be so…” She considered and then scoffed. “So fake. The things you say and how you say them—anyone who knows anything about romance and love can surely see how exaggerated they are. That will give the game away long before anything else.”
“Romance and love?” He tilted his head and smirked. “Is that you?”
She looked at him flatly. “You know what I mean. You need not be so over the top. It is so exaggerated that it is almost humorous.”
“Huh…” Sebastian had not considered that. “That’s an interesting point.”
In truth, he had little to no real experience with true love. Most of his firsthand knowledge came from flings and short-term relationships, in which he always oversold the romance because that was just the way he was. A natural performer who used charm and humor to get what he wanted.
He supposed now that he technically had what he wanted, there was no need for the theatrics.
“Anything else?” he asked.
“No,” she uttered, noticeably more relaxed and less standoffish. “I think that’s everything.”
About to turn, she stopped herself and looked at him again. It was subtle, but he sensed her nerves, and the fact that she could not look at him proved the point.
“And thank you.”
“For what?”
“For apologizing,” she said, her voice soft, still not looking at him. “I did not know you had it in you, but I appreciate the effort it must have taken.”
“I am as surprised as you,” he joked. “But you are most welcome.”
“Thank you,” she reiterated. “If there is nothing else, Your Grace…”
“Oh, there is, in fact,” Sebastian said. “You may call me Sebastian. This Your Grace nonsense… I can’t imagine a happily married couple would bother with formalities.”
She forced herself to look at him, smile, and then she ducked out of the room, seemingly determined to put some distance between them before the little progress they made blew up in their faces.
Sebastian breathed a sigh of relief as he sat back down. It was a small step in the right direction, but he felt its consequences would be hugely significant.
He and Helena were to live together for a few months, so why not make it as comfortable and companionable as possible?
Were he a different man, Sebastian might have even said he was looking forward to it.
But that is a bridge too far. At best, I am not dreading it as I was previously, and that is huge.