Chapter 21
“Perhaps you should slow down?” Giles suggested as Sebastian finished his glass of whiskey in two gulps.
“Perhaps you should mind your own business,” Sebastian snapped.
Giles scoffed derisively. “Seeing as you are a guest in my house, this is my business. And keep drinking like that. While you will indeed become very drunk, you will be a drunk wandering the streets because the last thing I want is you vomiting all over my floor.”
Sebastian winced. “I am not nearly that far gone yet.”
“Yet?”
“Another.” Sebastian shoved the glass toward his friend. “A double this time.”
Giles took the glass from him but did not stand to refill it. Nor did he look as if he meant to. He eyed the empty glass with disdain and then fixed the same look on Sebastian.
Well earned, in Sebastian’s opinion.
“So, it is up to me to guess, then, isn’t it? I had assumed that you coming here meant you wished to talk. But perhaps that was optimistic on my part.”
“It is bad luck to drink alone.”
“I am not drinking,” Giles pointed out.
“But you are here, are you not? Hence, I am not alone.”
“Clever,” Giles said dryly. “I see the drink hasn’t ruined your inhibitions just yet.”
“The day is young. Now…” Sebastian eyed the empty glass. “Are you going to refill that glass, or do I need to do it myself?”
“I will,” Giles spoke slowly, his disdainful expression turning worried. “But on one condition. That you tell me what in the name of the King has gotten into you.”
“Ugh. Can’t a man drink in silence?”
“You did not come here to drink in silence,” Giles retorted. “You came here because something is troubling you. But the coward you are, alcohol is required before you are willing to say it. So, what will it be? Another drink and honesty? Or do I need to have you removed?”
Giles was right, as he so often was.
Sebastian had indeed ridden all this way because he needed someone to speak with—perhaps the only person in the world whom he trusted with the truth.
But it had been a long and hard ride, his conscience had wreaked havoc on him, and by the time he arrived, he found that the only thing he wanted—which he hoped would save him—was hard liquor.
A drink was requested and served. Then another. And then a third. Giles, ever the gracious host, was happy for a time to sit back and watch Sebastian ruin himself.
But three drinks in, with not a word said, and he was growing worried. Enough that he was willing to put his foot down as he had done. Sebastian was stubborn, and he required the ultimatum. And Giles knew it.
“Fine,” Sebastian sighed as if losing a great battle. “Poor me a drink, and I’ll tell you why I am here.”
“As if you were not going to anyway,” Giles scoffed as he rose from the couch and crossed the room to the liquor cabinet. “But better you do it when you have control of your tongue.”
At the cabinet, he poured a glass of whiskey and then handed it to Sebastian.
Sebastian took it, was about to have a mouthful, only to find the urge had left him. His head was swimming, his stomach was churning, and the more he drank, the worse things seemed to become.
It is not liquor that I need, but answers. Even wrong answers might suffice, because as things currently stand, there are no right answers to that which wrecks me.
“I have been lying to you,” Sebastian admitted, his voice softening. He was sitting on the couch, facing the fire, and he stared into its depths so the flames were reflected in his eyes. “About myself and Helena.”
“Huh,” Giles said.
He sat on a separate couch and turned to face his friend. His brow creased as he studied his friend. Had Sebastian been looking at him, he would have noted the clear concern in his eyes.
“How so?”
“We are indeed married,” Sebastian started, his voice distant.
“That is the truth. But it is the nature of our marriage that…” He took a sip of his drink, wincing because it was not going down as well as it once did.
“We are not a love match, as we have led everyone to believe. The truth of the matter is that this marriage was brought about because Helena found herself in a situation where marriage to a duke would save her. And I took advantage of it.”
“What situation is that?”
“Not important,” Sebastian said. “What matters is that I forced her hand, assuring her that our marriage would be one of convenience. We would play at being the loving couple, we would fool the ton as we have done, and her problems would be seen as unimportant. Assuming anyone even cared.”
Giles nodded. “The orphanage. That is why.”
“Clever, right?” Sebastian tried to laugh, but it burned his throat.
“Oh, undoubtedly. You had me fooled, as well as most of Parliament. Your rapscallion image has been forgotten, and I dare say that, given time, you will be able to convince those you need to support your bid to fund the orphanage. Well played, old boy.”
Sebastian exhaled sharply through his nose in agreement.
Indeed, his plan was working perfectly, and for that he was grateful.
He had hoped it would be enough to distract his conscience and let him focus on the long-term goal he had set for himself so that he could ignore that which plagued him.
The reason he felt so conflicted. The reason he had come to see his friend was to drown his sorrows, because it was the only thing that seemed to help.
A distraction, but a pitiful one.
“I am confused,” Giles continued carefully. “What exactly is the problem here? You should be thrilled. Or I would have thought so, all things considered.”
Sebastian did not answer, still staring into the flames as his world turned in directions that he could not have predicted because it had never happened before. Directions he did not think were possible, considering what he knew about himself.
Or what I thought I knew.
“Ah…” Giles sighed in realization. “Your wife. You’ve fallen for her.”
“Do not be ridiculous,” Sebastian snapped.
“Am I?”
He winced. “It is not nearly that simple.”
“Then make it so.”
Sebastian let out a bitter laugh and took another painful sip of whiskey. “You know I have never sought marriage—never wanted it. Marriage is a tool to be used, not unlike a hammer or a saw. It has but one purpose, and I had thought I found that purpose with Helena.”
“And what does Helena think?”
“She is of the same mind,” he said. “That was what made her so perfect. Not a fan of marriage, and she wanted the same thing I did. For a time, everything was going as planned. Fake love for appearances, dispassion, and…” He chuckled as he remembered the earlier days. “And loathing behind closed doors.”
“And she still feels this way?”
To that, Sebastian had no answer.
He had sensed a change in his wife this past week. One that saw the two of them spending more time together, enjoying each other’s company, finding common ground and shared interests in ways that were dangerous because of how easy and natural it felt.
And Sebastian liked it. He liked spending time with her. He liked that she enjoyed being with him. And he liked how she had looked at him when she learned of the orphanage and what he was doing.
He was a fool to have shown her the orphanage.
And he was a damn idiot for encouraging her to visit with him.
It brought them closer together. It bonded them in ways that he had claimed he did not desire.
It lifted the veil of antipathy and provided a glimpse of what married life might be like, were they to stop all the nonsense and admit that they were not nearly as different as they had claimed.
This marriage was not as it had been. It had changed, transforming slowly before their very eyes, so it was getting harder to ignore where it was heading.
Or where it will head, if we don’t put a stop to it.
“It does not matter what she feels,” Sebastian sighed. “It is how I feel that ruins me.”
Giles snorted. “I did not know you had feelings.”
Sebastian jerked his head up and snarled at his friend. “This is not funny.”
“You should see things from where I am sitting.”
Sebastian tried to hold his snarl, but it withered and died, and he bowed his head pathetically.
“She is relentless, Giles. Unlike any woman I have ever known. One minute she spurns me, the next she is trying to upend me and turn to me with anger, then she softens and purrs like a kitten and looks at me like…” His chest tightened as he pictured that look in her eyes. “Like no one ever has.”
“She is falling for you.” Giles nodded.
“I hope not,” Sebastian said, and it was the truth.
“But I cannot think when I am around her. I cannot sleep. I find it hard to breathe!” he roared suddenly, feeling the urge to toss his glass into the flames.
“She is fiery and unpredictable, and just when I think I have her figured out, she shifts like smoke in a fire, and I find myself wrong-footed. I… I am completely undone when I am with her.”
Giles sighed and rose from the couch. Then, he crossed the space between them and rested a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. “Forgive me for saying this, Sebastian, but I could not be more relieved to hear it.”
“What?” Sebastian’s head shot up again. “What does that mean?”
“Do you know who you described just now?” There was a glimmer in Giles’s eyes and a smirk on his lips. “Yourself. Helena, for better or for worse, has undone you because she is you. As bizarre as that might sound.”
Sebastian winced. “No, she is far better than I am.”
“Regardless, you come here as if confusion is what wrecks you, when in truth, your mind is as clear as it has ever been.” Giles reached down and pried the glass from Sebastian’s fingers.
“Clearly, you are falling for your wife. And like it or not, that isn’t going to change based on anything I have to say. ”
Sebastian’s stomach twisted into knots. There had been a weight sitting on his shoulders when he arrived, and it was still there, because Giles’s words were not unexpected. In fact, Sebastian knew the truth of them well before they were spoken.
But that was not the point.
He had never meant to fall for Helena. He did not want to. All he wanted, the only thing that mattered to him, was the orphanage. And once that was taken care of, he intended to do as he promised and end this marriage by allowing Helena to leave so she might never come back.
But could he do such a thing now, knowing how he felt? And did it even matter, for she might not even want him. Was it best to do as they had once done and avoid each other until this was all over, or to admit the truth and stop playing these ridiculous games?
Sebastian did not have the answer. He knew what he wanted, but there was a huge difference between what he wanted to do and what he knew he should do. And sad to say, all the whiskey in the world would not solve his woes.
He was falling for his wife. What a tragedy it was.