Chapter 27
It was the day after Sebastian and Helena’s kiss, and Sebastian was in remarkably high spirits. Not that this was or should have been surprising.
Sebastian knew well why his mood was so bright, and for once, he was happy to live in that mood and embrace it because life was simply too good to worry about things that no longer felt consequential or important.
“Is Her Grace coming back?” Daniel asked him.
He was lying in his bed, having been ordered to stay there for several days until his illness passed. But the color had returned to his cheeks, and his spirits were remarkably high for one who had come so close to death.
“Would you like it if she did?” Sebastian asked.
“Yes,” Daniel said with a joyful smile. “I miss her stories.”
“As she misses reading them to you,” Sebastian told the young boy. A hand rested on his arm, and Daniel beamed. “I am sure she will visit in the next day or two.”
“She will?”
“I promise.”
It was a promise that Sebastian felt safe to make; no doubt whatsoever that Helena would visit again.
She had wanted to come with him today, but her friend sent word ahead at the last minute that she wished to visit, forcing her to stay home. How she fussed about that, very nearly turning her friend away because she was desperate to check on Daniel.
As Sebastian had been sure to tell her, Daniel would be there later. And spending time with friends was always important, because one never knew what might happen.
The fact that she was so eager to see Daniel meant the world to Sebastian. He found it funny now, how worried he had been that she might not understand what he was doing with the orphanage. That he had considered for even a second that she would not understand how important it was.
How could I have ever doubted her? Although I suppose it was more myself whom I doubted. Something I will not do again.
Sebastian was through lying to himself. He was done with running from the truth. Finally, he told Helena how he felt, she told him the same, and if supper the previous evening was anything to go by—not to mention that kiss—the days ahead looked bright and worth living.
“I will see you tomorrow,” he told Daniel as he rose from the bed. “Be good.”
Daniel continued to smile. “Tell Her Grace… Tell her that I miss her.”
“As she misses you.”
Sebastian was beaming as he strolled away from the young boy’s bed. A smile that was warm and radiant and seemed to infuse the children around him with cheer. They waved and came to him, some hugging his legs as he passed them by.
They might not have been his own children, but he felt as if they were. And should things continue as they were, very soon they would have nothing to worry about.
Evening had come when Sebastian stepped outside. The carriage sat ready and waiting, and already he was looking forward to returning home so he could sup with Helena. He had assured her that he would be back in time, and he did not wish to be late.
Another truth. All that time spent trying to avoid her now feels like lost time. Annoying, to be sure, but that just means there is more time to make up for.
So lost was he in his reverie that he failed to notice the shadow lurking beside his carriage. That was until its owner stepped into the light, wearing on his pinched face a slimy smile that would make any child scream with fear.
“Your Grace, this is a pleasant surprise.” It was Mr. Ramsay of all people, the same publisher who had tried to take advantage of Helena. “What are the chances?”
Sebastian felt an immediate surge of revulsion. And he did not bother trying to hide the sneer that twisted his lips as he came to a sudden halt.
“Mr. Ramsay. I would agree with you if I thought this was anything other than a coincidence.”
“Are you suggesting something sinister?”
“I am not suggesting anything.” He fixed the little man with a warning scowl. “What are you doing here? Are you following me?”
“Following you?” Mr. Ramsay looked around them as if they were on a busy street, and this right here was nothing short of a most peculiar happenstance. “Perhaps I was just taking an evening constitutional and happened upon you. Stranger things have happened.”
“They have not.”
“I mean…” He flashed his eyes, and a delighted smile crept onto his lips. “The fact that you are here also is strange. Surely, there is just as little reason for a duke to be walking the eastern streets of London as there is for a man of my profession. What are you doing here, I wonder?”
Sebastian’s eyes widened in recognition, and he felt a stone drop into his stomach.
This was not an accidental run-in. Of that, he had no doubt. Which meant that Mr. Ramsay had either followed him here or knew that he would be here at this time.
Neither brought Sebastian comfort, because the result of both was the same. Mr. Ramsay knew about the orphanage.
“What do you want?” Sebastian growled, taking a step forward to intimidate because he did not appreciate the subterfuge.
“Just a quick chat, if it pleases you,” Mr. Ramsay replied amicably. “I can assure you that it is well within your interests.” His beady eyes flicked to the orphanage. “I know you are a man of discretion.”
Sebastian had half a mind to grab the man by the scruff of the neck and toss him into the gutter.
The only thing that stopped him was the knowledge of how little that would help.
It would only make matters worse, and Mr. Ramsay, clearly knowing why Sebastian was here, would not hesitate to make sure he paid.
“Five minutes,” Sebastian snarled. “Which is more than you deserve.”
“Wonderful.” Mr. Ramsay clapped his hands together. “Shall we…” He turned and gestured to Sebastian’s carriage. “Best that we do this out of sight. Who knows who else might wander by?”
Sebastian made sure to fix the man with a warning sneer as he stalked to his carriage and threw the door open. He climbed in without a word, letting the worm of a publisher scamper in behind him and close the door.
He sat with his arms folded, glaring at Mr. Ramsay, who took some time getting comfortable. He appeared to be enjoying himself, the little amount of power he held over Sebastian relished fully.
“This is a rather lovely ride,” he crooned. “Worthy of a duke, that is for sure—”
“What do you want?” Sebastian barked. “Speak, before I throw you out and instruct my driver to run you down in the street.”
Mr. Ramsay smiled with delight, not in the least bit concerned about the threat. “Tell me, Your Grace. How goes your marriage? I have heard nothing but good things.”
“I would be careful what you say next.” It took all the control Sebastian had not to launch himself at the man right then and there.
“No need for concern,” Mr. Ramsay tittered. “Merely asking. After all, I had a role to play, did I not? I am just pleased it has all worked out for the best.”
“It has,” Sebastian growled. “And if you think to threaten us, I am pleased to inform you that this is a waste of time. Nothing you say will affect mine and Helena’s marriage, and if it is rumors you intend to spread, remember well that I have my own that I am more than happy to spread about you.”
Mr. Ramsay touched his chest as if offended. “Do you really think so little of me?”
“Less than that. I know you, Mr. Ramsay. You will do well to remember.”
Finally, Mr. Ramsay’s false cheer dropped, and he curled his upper lip as a darkness settled upon his shoulders and in his beady eyes.
“Oh yes, I remember well, Your Grace. A little too well, for that matter. Which might be enough to tell you that this chat…” He laughed darkly.
“Oh, how I have looked forward to this moment.”
“You might not, by the time it is done.”
“On that, we will have to disagree.”
Sebastian had lied to Helena when he had first met her.
Although I prefer to think of it as a slight mistruth.
When he found her and Mr. Ramsay in the library and scared the publisher away, he implied that he knew Mr. Ramsay somewhat, but refrained from explaining why he knew the man as he did.
It had not seemed important at the time.
His finding them was a pure accident, and the result had nothing to do with his and Mr. Ramsay’s history.
What was more, Sebastian had been certain that he knew Mr. Ramsay well enough to say beyond a doubt that once the engagement was finalized, they would never hear from him again.
The fact that I know Mr. Ramsay as well as I do should have told me the exact opposite. But as arrogant as I am, I failed to consider just how much the diminutive publisher loathes me.
It was years ago now when they first came into contact.
Mr. Ramsay, not a member of the peerage, was of the gentry and was desperately trying to worm his way into high standing by wooing the daughter of a baron who was far too good for him but was so broke that her father had been willing to marry her off to save his fortune.
Sebastian had gotten wind of the arrangement. He knew the girl’s father well enough, might have even said they were friends, and offered to cover the Baron’s loans and save him the humiliation of marrying his only daughter to a man as reprehensible as Mr. Ramsay.
Mr. Ramsay had never forgiven him. And the fact that Sebastian had mocked the man in Parliament not long after, happy to drag his name through the mud, certainly hadn’t helped.
“What do you want?” he asked, careful now to lean toward civility because he could sense that whatever this was, it would not be to his benefit.
Mr. Ramsay grinned maniacally at the change in tone. “A great many things, Your Grace. And I have spent these past few weeks considering them closely.”
“Whatever this is, it is between you and me. My wife has nothing to do with it.”