“Ridiculous. You must try to understand, my lord. Ever since Mama and Papa were killed in a carriage accident two years ago my brother has been attempting to shoulder his responsibilities as the head of the family.”
I see.
“He is at that dreadful age when young men feel things so very intensely. I expect you were young once yourself.”
Sebastian gazed at her, clearly fascinated. “Now that you mention it, I believe I was. It was a very long time ago, of course.”
Prudence flushed. “I did not mean to imply that you are old now, my lord.”
“Thank you.”
Prudence gave him an encouraging smile. “Heavens, you are probably not much above forty.”
“Thirty-five.”
Prudence blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“I am thirty-five, Miss Merryweather. Not forty.”
“Oh. I see.” Prudence wondered if she had offended him. She sought to recover whatever ground she had lost “Well, you certainly have the aspect of the sort of sound maturity one would expect in a much older man, sir.”
“Kind of you to say so. Others have said that my face bears the marks of a blighted soul and too much hard living.”
Prudence swallowed. “The thing is, my lord, I fear we must rely on the wisdom and common sense that you have no doubt acquired during the past thirty-five years if we are to put an end to the foolishness of a twenty-year-old boy.”
Sebastian studied her for a long moment. “You’re serious, aren’t you, Miss Merryweather? You actually expect me to apologize to your brother.”
“I am quite serious. This is a matter of life and death, my lord. According to my sources, you are an extremely excellent shot.” Prudence tightened her clasped hands. “I understand you practice regularly at Manton’s and that this will not be your first duel.”
“You appear to be remarkably well informed.”
“I am very good at investigating things, my lord,” Prudence said stiffly. “It is a hobby of mine, as I explained to you earlier this evening.”
“So you did. But I was under the impression that your primary interest was the investigation of spectral phenomena.”
Prudence glanced at the cat. “It is true that I have specialized in such matters, but I assure you my interests are actually quite wide-ranging. I enjoy finding answers to puzzling questions.”
“Do you believe in ghosts, Miss Merryweather?”
“I myself am extremely skeptical on the subject,” Prudence admitted. “But many people do believe in ghosts. They often think they have evidence of spectral phenomena. My hobby involves examining that evidence and attempting to find a logical explanation for it.”
“I see.” Sebastian gazed into the flames on the hearth. “It was because I had heard of your rather unusual hobby that I asked to be introduced to you.”
Prudence smiled ruefully. “I am well aware of that, my lord. I realize I am accounted an Original here in Town. You are not the first gentleman who has sought an introduction simply because he was curious about my hobby. Do you have any notion of how irritating it is to be asked to dance merely because one is considered odd?”
“I believe I have some idea,” Sebastian said, his tone curiously dry. “The ton is always intrigued by the unusual. It reacts like a small child with a new toy. And if it happens to break that toy, it will toss it aside and go on to another bright, glittering object.”
“I understand.” Prudence’s heart sank. Had she actually hoped that he had found her a bit more interesting than a new toy? This was the Fallen Angel, after all. “You are telling me that you asked me to dance because I am the newest of the ton’s entertainments. You were merely amusing yourself.”
“No.” Sebastian watched her with hooded eyes. “I asked you to dance because you intrigued me, Miss Merryweather. It occurred to me that you and I might have some interests in common.”
She stared at him in astonishment. “Really, my lord? Are you involved in investigations of spectral phenomena?”
“Not exactly.”
“What, then?”
“I don’t think it’s important at the moment. There are more pressing matters concerning us, are there not?”
“Yes, of course. Your duel with my brother.” Prudence pulled herself back to the business at hand. “Then you will apologize to Trevor? I know it will be dreadfully irritating to do so when he is the one in the wrong, but surely you can see that this duel must be stopped.”
“It is not my habit to apologize, Miss Merryweather.”
She moistened her dry lips. “The thing is, I cannot convince Trevor to do so.”
“Then I fear your brother must face the consequences.”
Prudence felt her hands go cold. “Sir, I must insist you act the part of a mature, responsible man. Trevor is as new to the ways of Town as I am. He did not know what he was doing when he challenged you.”
“You’re wrong, Miss Merryweather. Your brother knew precisely what he was doing. He knew who I was and he knew my reputation.” Sebastian smiled faintly. “Why do you think he was so outraged over the fact that I asked you to dance?”
Prudence frowned. “I have learned a great deal about your reputation during the past three or four hours, my lord. It seems to me it has been blown out of all proportion to the facts.”
Sebastian looked briefly startled. “Do you know the facts, Miss Merryweather?”
“Most of them,” She ticked them off rapidly on one gloved hand. “Years ago your father defied his family to run off with an actress. The Fleetwoods were furious. Your parents were forced to leave the country because of the scandal. There were never any announcements of a wedding made, so everyone, including your relatives, assumed your father never actually married your mother.”
“That sums up most of my relevant history.”
“Not quite. When you returned to England two years ago, the ton took great delight in labeling you a bastard.”
“So it did.” Sebastian looked amused.
“It was very cruel of people to say such things. You were certainly not responsible for the circumstances of your birth.”
“You are very understanding, Miss Merryweather.”
“It is a matter of common sense. Why should a child be blamed for the actions of his parents? However, as it happens, you were not born out of wedlock at all.”
“No.”
Prudence eyed him thoughtfully. “For reasons of your own, probably because you found it amusing, you were content to let everyone go on thinking that you had been born on the wrong side of the blanket.”
“Let us say I could not be bothered to correct the impression,” Sebastian conceded.
“Until your uncle, the old earl, died last year. He had never married, so he left no son to inherit the title. Your father was next in line, but he unfortunately died four years ago and you were presumed to be a bastard. Thus, everyone thought that your cousin Jeremy, whose father also died some time ago, would become the next Earl of Angelstone.”
Sebastian smiled and said nothing.
“But,” Prudence said, “you confounded the entire social world by producing conclusive proof that your parents had, indeed, been legally married before you were born. You were the legitimate heir to the title. I am told your relatives have never forgiven you.”
“A circumstance which does not particularly bother me.”
“In addition, at the time you came into the title, you had already made a fortune of your own which cast the Angelstone inheritance into the shade,” Prudence said. “That is something else that your relatives do not appreciate.”
Sebastian inclined his head briefly. “I compliment you on your investigations, Miss Merryweather. You have learned a great deal about me in a relatively short span of time.”
“There was no lack of people willing to gossip about you, my lord.”
“There rarely is.”
“Your reputation borders on the legendary.”
“Perhaps wit
h good reason,” Sebastian observed softly.
“It is so formidable, in fact,” Prudence continued smoothly, “that it could certainly withstand the few inconsequential remarks that might be made if you were to undertake an apology to my brother.”
Sebastian’s jaw tightened. Then his eyes gleamed with reluctant admiration. “A telling blow, Miss Merryweather. And very neatly executed, if I may say so.”
“Thank you, my lord. I merely pointed out a small truth. You could apologize to my brother and come away with your extraordinary reputation still intact. Those who learn of your act of generosity toward Trevor will view it as a kindness on your part.”
“I am not known for being kind, Miss Merryweather.”
Prudence smiled encouragingly. “You will be, after word gets out that you refused to meet my brother. Everyone knows that you could have lodged a bullet in him, had you chosen to do so.”
“It is an interesting and rather amusing perspective on the situation.”
“I’m delighted you understand, my lord. I believe my little scheme will work very well. All you have to do is apologize to Trevor.”
Sebastian reflected on that for a moment. “I must confess I do not quite see any clear benefit to myself in all of this.”
“You will be spared the inconvenience of a duel at dawn,” Prudence pointed out. “Surely that is a great benefit.”
“As it happens, I am generally awake at dawn, anyway.” Something cold flickered in Sebastian’s eyes. “A duel would be no great inconvenience.”
Prudence stared at him in shock. Then she thought she detected a devilish amusement in his amber eyes. “My lord, you are teasing me.”
“Do you think so?”
“Yes, I do. Surely you can have no great desire to fight a duel with a young, inexperienced boy. You have nothing to prove. Promise me you will end this with an apology before blood is spilled.”
“You are asking me to set aside the small matter of my own honor.”
“I am asking you to be reasonable.”
“Why should I bother to be reasonable?”
Prudence was nearing the end of her patience. “My lord, I must insist you cease acting like a cork-brained idiot. We both know you are too intelligent to want to engage in something as foolish as a duel.”
“A cork-brained idiot?”
Prudence flushed. “I apologize, sir, but that is how your behavior appears to me. I expected better of you.”
“I am desolate to know that I have not lived up to your expectations. But then, I rarely live up to anyone’s expectations. I am surprised you did not learn that in the course of your investigation this evening.”
“You enjoy confounding others,” Prudence said. “I realize that you undoubtedly feel that you have just cause to carry on in such a manner. It is no doubt your way of getting some revenge on Society for the way it treated you before you assumed your title.”
“That’s a very magnanimous attitude on your part.”
“However,” Prudence said very deliberately, “I am asking you to rise above your inclinations in this instance and behave like the generous, responsible, kindhearted man I know you are capable of being.”
Wicked laughter briefly lit Sebastian’s eyes. “What in the name of the devil makes you think I’m capable of behaving in such a manner?”
Prudence was exasperated. “You are a well-read man with an inquiring mind, sir. I learned that much about you on the dance floor when we discussed my investigations into spectral phenomena. You asked perceptive questions and you displayed a keen intellect. I refuse to believe you cannot behave with some generosity of spirit.”
Sebastian rubbed Lucifer’s ears while he considered that suggestion. “I suppose it might be a novel experience.”
“Just the thing to relieve your boredom.” Prudence hesitated and then added gently, “I understand you suffer from ennui.”
“Who told you that?”
“Almost everyone,” she admitted. “Is it true?”
Sebastian leaned his head against the back of the chair and gazed at the fire in front of him. His mouth curved without any real humor. “I don’t know,” he said quietly.
Prudence stared at him. “You don’t know what you are feeling?”
He slanted her a strange look. “Much of the time I am not certain that I feel anything at all, Miss Merryweather.”
“I experienced a similar sensation for a while after my parents were killed,” Prudence said softly.
“Did you?”
“Yes. But I had my brother, Trevor. And Lady Pembroke was very kind. We were all able comfort each other. My spirits eventually revived,”
“That I can well believe.” Sebastian’s tone was laced with mockery. “You are definitely not without spirit, Miss Merryweather. But the matter of whether or not I suffer from ennui is neither here nor there. Let us return to the subject at hand.”
“Yes, of course.” She gave him an anxious little smile. “I’m aware that I am asking you to do me a great favor, my lord.”
“Very true. Apologies are extremely foreign to my nature. And so is the business of granting favors.”
“I’m sure you’ll survive the experience.”
“That remains to be seen,” Sebastian said. “I should perhaps remind you that when one grants a favor, one expects to be able to collect payment in return at some future time.”
A fresh flash of alarm went through Prudence. She eyed him warily. “What, exactly, are you suggesting, my lord?”
“Merely that in return for my doing you this favor tonight, you will agree to do one for me should I ever request it.”
Prudence held herself very still “What sort of favor would you expect in return for sparing my brother’s life?”
“Who knows? One cannot see into the future, Miss Merryweather. I have no notion now of what sort of boon I might someday require of you.”
“I see.” She drew her brows together in concern. “But you expect to collect this favor from me at some point?”
Sebastian smiled slowly. His eyes and those of his cat reflected the firelight. “Yes, Miss Merryweather. Someday I shall most definitely collect what is owed to me. Do we have a bargain?”
A dangerous silence settled on the shadowed library. It was broken only by the crackle of the flames on the hearth. Prudence could not look away from Sebastian’s steady, unreadable gaze.
She would have to take the chance that her intuition about this man was correct. He might be dangerous, but she did not believe he was evil.
“Very well, my lord,” Prudence said quietly. “I will agree to this bargain.”
Sebastian studied her for a long while, as if seeking to see beneath the surface, just as she had sought to penetrate his secrets. “I do believe you are a woman who keeps her bargains, Miss Merryweather.”
Prudence scowled. “Of course I am.”
“You need not be offended. Genuine honor is a rare enough commodity in either men or women.”
“If you say so. Does this mean you will apologize to my brother?”
“Yes. I shall see to it that the duel is called off.”
Relief poured through her. “Thank you, my lord. I am so very grateful. It is really very good of you to do this.”
“Enough, Miss Merryweather. I do not need your thanks. We have struck a bargain, you and I. You will repay me soon enough.” Sebastian set the cat down on the carpet.
Lucifer blinked at Prudence in irritation, as if he blamed her for being disturbed from his comfortable position. Then he flicked his tail and strolled off to settle himself onto a red and gold silk pillow.
Sebastian uncoiled from his chair and reached down to take hold of both of Prudence’s hands. He pulled her to her feet.
“My lord?”
He did not reply, but his eyes were banked flames as he drew her close. He bent his head and brought his mouth down on hers.
Sebastian’s kiss was a deliberate, calculated statement of sensual intent. Pr
udence had never received such a kiss in her entire life, yet some part of her recognized it instantly for what it was. A shocking thrill went through her all the way to her toes as she realized that in some indefinable manner, Sebastian was claiming her for his own.
Prudence was stunned.
She trembled. She could hardly breathe. A fierce excitement shimmered within her. Her entire body was suddenly alive with a new, pulsing energy.
The whole thing was over before Prudence could even begin to adjust to the sensual onslaught. She gasped when Sebastian raised his head.
“Now that we have sealed our bargain, Miss Merryweather, it is time you went home.”
“Oh, yes. Yes, of course.” Prudence struggled to adjust the hood of her cloak with shaking fingers. She told herself she must be as nonchalant as he was. She was five and twenty, not a green girl. “No one will have missed me, however. Lady Pembroke’s household is extremely well run and I left distinct instructions when I retired to my bedchamber that I was not to be disturbed.”
“How did you get out of the house?”
“Through the kitchens. It was a bit difficult to find a carriage, but I managed. The coachman said he would wait.”
“The hackney in which you arrived has already been sent on its way.”
Prudence looked up sharply. “It has?”
“Do not concern yourself. I shall see you home, Miss Merryweather.”
“That’s really quite unnecessary,” she said quickly.
“I have already ordered my carriage brought around.”
“I see.” She could not think of anything else to say.
Sebastian guided Prudence out of the library, into the hall where the hound-faced butler was waiting.
“My coat, Flowers.” Sebastian smiled his strange, humorless smile. “By the by, it appears I do not have an appointment at dawn, after all. Please see that breakfast is served at the usual hour.”
“Yes, my lord.” Flowers cast Prudence a startled, questioning glance as he assisted Sebastian into a black greatcoat. But like the well-trained servant that he was, he said nothing. He opened the front door without another word.
A black carriage horsed with two black stallions waited in the fog. Sebastian handed Prudence up into the cab. Then he climbed in and sat down across from her. The coach lamps cast a fiery glow across his stark, forbidding features. In that moment Prudence had no difficulty understanding why the gossips had given him the title of the Fallen Angel.