Chapter 16 Sebastian
All human discoveries seem to be made only for the purpose of confirming more strongly the truths come from on high and contained in the sacred writings.
JOHN HERSCHEL
“I’ve tended myself plenty of times,” I protested, pressing the sodden handkerchief to my cheek.
A sharp throb pulsed beneath the cloth, a reminder that my pride hurt as much as the wound itself.
Blood trickled down my neck, soaking through my cravat.
The cut, as I had been informed, stretched from my cheekbone to my chin and was certain to leave a nasty mark.
The other occupants of the Grenville carriage stared at me as the horses slowed in front of the townhouse.
“I’ll fetch thread and needle,” Kitty insisted, her eyes still wide. Since leaving the garden party, she had remained by my side, brushing away any concern that I might stain her gown.
The moment we stopped, she leapt from the carriage before I could object, followed by the other women.
“Freddy, gather clean linens and bandages. Perhaps a servant can fetch the physician.”
“He’ll likely do more harm than good,” Edward muttered at my elbow as we descended and followed the women.
Freddy gave a firm nod and slipped off toward the front door with the elder Miss Grenville bustling after her, fluttering with dramatic cries as if in need of attention herself.
Edward directed me to the kitchen, where the staff had already begun to gather in alarm.
He excused himself to fetch brandy for the pain and vanished through a side door as Kitty rushed in, sewing basket clutched in her arms. At her order, the cook hurried to prepare hot water, and Kitty motioned me toward the kitchen fireplace.
Someone found a stool and I was pushed onto it, the action jarring my cheek and setting the wound to bleeding again. The kitchen swirled with the scents of smoke and baked bread. Kitty’s voice drifted from somewhere behind me, issuing brisk orders to the servants.
After several minutes, the scuffle of returning footsteps announced the others.
Edward came first, a bottle of brandy in hand, Freddy close behind him with folded linens, and the elder Miss Grenville following in full lamentation.
Kitty stood at the long counter with remarkable composure for someone so pale.
“Dear boy, dear boy! How dreadful,” the elder Miss Grenville cried as she hovered close, skirts lifted clear of the drops of blood staining the floor. “I’m certain it was nothing but a careless accident.”
“It was no accident,” Edward said in a low voice as he stood next to Kitty while she sorted through her sewing basket. “Not on Chudley’s part. Did you notice? Sebastian could’ve struck him at any point. Chudley’s a fool—he might’ve been left in far worse shape.”
I caught Kitty’s sharp inhale as she found what she needed within the basket. Edward, meanwhile, opened the bottle of liquor with a loud pop.
I bit my tongue and pretended I couldn’t hear their whispers.
I didn’t feel particularly merciful. They hadn’t heard what Chudley had said to me. I hoped no one would ask.
What will you do with her, Sinclair? Parade her as some exotic curiosity? Or tuck her away in Surrey where no one can whisper the word nabob?
I’d wanted to shred him limb from limb. It required all of my restraint not to do so. I didn’t need a charge of murder, and it was clear he wanted to provoke me in front of his guests. Surely if Kitty knew what Chudley was really like, she would not entertain his attentions.
Word at the clubs and fencing school had hinted at Chudley’s poor character—debts, wagers, boasts that crumbled under scrutiny. A liar and a cheat, others said. And a coward, too, judging from his fearful eyes when he’d crashed to the ground.
Freddy pressed linens into Edward’s hands. “He showed mercy, Edward.”
“Mercy?” Kitty echoed, then her gaze met mine for an instant. I looked away just as the elder Miss Grenville fluttered past, now pointing to the fresh drops of blood on the floor to be immediately cleaned. I swiveled on the stool and pressed harder on the linen against my face.
“Yes, yes,” Edward hissed, his tone heated. “He showed restraint.”
“That speaks volumes about his character,” Freddy whispered as Edward poured the liquor onto one of the linens. “A man of strength knows when to hold back.”
The two of them exchanged a look I could not read, and I couldn’t help but wonder what Kitty might be thinking. How pale she looked. Shaken. Yet she had raced over to my side when Chudley fell. Not to him. But to me.
Begged to go home. And my Christian name on her lips for all to hear. My chest warmed at the memory. Dare I hope I had somehow thawed through her icy reserve? Had I managed to get past every warning that she would never marry someone like me?
“Mercy is a useless attribute,” Edward said, voice hard. For a heartbeat he sounded exactly like the colonel.
Kitty frowned as she rummaged in her basket for additional supplies. The sight of her nimble fingers riffling through spools of thread stirred a strange mixture of admiration and frustration in me. Really, I wanted to speak with her alone and determine if she finally cared.
Freddy spoke again, her tone insistent. “But why? Why let Lord Chudley off the hook when he acted so recklessly?”
Edward answered her with biting sarcasm. “Perhaps because he mistakenly values honor over pride. I would not have been so merciful, believe me. Chudley would have at least lost a hand for attacking me with such dirty tricks.”
My chest heaved. If I showed any mercy, it was because I had been given it in full measure, as Mr. Carey often reminded me. I had been the worst of men. But that didn’t mean I would allow a lout like Chudley to get away with his behavior.
Did Kitty believe as I did? Or was she as jaded as her family?
I caught her watching me with wide eyes, doubt clouding her features. Did she think me a fool? Or did she suspect mercy was a costlier choice than revenge?
The cook brought boiling water. The elder Miss Grenville hovered, scolding and fussing, as Edward approached and unfastened my blasted cravat tied all too tight. Kitty placed a hand on his arm.
“I’ll do the stitches, Brother. I’ve had far more practice with needlepoint than you.”
Edward tugged away the cravat, baring my collarbone. Kitty’s gaze darted there before she quickly looked away, her cheeks faintly flushed.
Edward growled. “It won’t be pretty. This isn’t embroidery. You may wish to wait for the physician, which I don’t recommend. That sabre bit deep.”
Then he glanced at Miss Grenville and Freddy and added gruffly, “Unless you ladies wish to help, we do not need an audience.”
The older Miss Grenville swooned on cue and Freddy guided her out of the room, an apologetic smile in place.
The cook lingered only long enough to complain about his dinner preparations before retreating.
One by one, the staff melted away, leaving me with Kitty and Edward—and the hum of pots on the range.
My pulse hummed at Kitty’s nearness as she held a needle and thread. Given our proximity, I studied her unabashedly with the handkerchief still pressed to my face.
“Truly, you need not do this.” I reached out with my free hand, then thought the better of it and rested my fist on my knee.
She braced herself, brushing one palm against her gown. “Edward is right. Some physicians do more harm than good. I suggest you take my services unless you wish to be covered in leeches.”
A grimace pulled at my mouth.
She peeled away the cloth. Her expression pinched at the sight of my wound, and I offered a crooked grin. “That bad, eh? No longer quite so handsome?”
“You shall truly resemble a pirate now,” she quipped. Her voice wavered as her fingers grazed my jaw. A tremor ran through me at the touch, lighting fire within me.
“I fear you shall scar, Sebastian.” My name slipped from her lips again.
I covered her hand with mine, anchoring it there for a breath before letting go, realizing Edward was witness to my every action.
Had she heard the earl’s vicious slur? I hoped not. I most certainly had overheard his crass jokes about opera mistresses.
She threaded the needle with fingers that shook, her brow furrowed with concentration, worrying that full bottom lip between her teeth. I groaned unthinkingly.
Misunderstanding, Edward passed me another whiskey-dampened linen and we exchanged cloths. This one burned the moment it touched my face. Distraction enough from her.
The butler appeared in the doorway. “Sir, a visitor for you. He says it is urgent. The Clapham Sect, sir.”
“Send them away before the colonel hears,” Edward snapped as he stepped away from me.
“Begging your pardon, sir—it’s urgent.”
Edward cursed under his breath and stalked off, leaving me alone with Kitty. I frowned, not expecting such a message at this hour. I didn’t think I could handle another grilling from those men, no matter how much I admired them.
“Is your brother associated with the Claphams?” I asked.
Her brows knitted together. “I’ve no idea what Edward does most days. He drifts about London with no purpose, and I doubt he even attends classes. He shuts me out entirely. It’s infuriating.”
“Wildness often masks pain, Kitty,” I said gently.
Her breath caught as she captured my jaw. “And you? Are you one of them? Friends with the Clapham Sect?”
I closed my eyes, knowing my answer would no doubt further cloud her judgment of me. “Nay.”
Her disappointment was palpable. “I heard Lord Chudley mention you and operas earlier. What was he implying?”
A weight pressed against my chest. “I was a different man several years ago. Wild, as I said. It was a foolish escape from . . . other things. I can’t pretend to be someone I’m not, Kitty. But I would like the chance to show you who I am now.”
She forced a smile as if not quite believing my plea. “Am I not simply a duty to you? The key to your inheritance?”