A Passion for Pleasure

chapter Twenty-Four


Wakefield House presided over the land like an aged matron who still retained vestiges of a youthful beauty. The sun cast a burnished glow on the rustic brown stones and the expansive gardens. Red and orange leaves carpeted the grass, and the wind carried a fresh tinge of salt. The hills of Dorset rolled toward the sheer cliffs that plunged into the sea, foaming waves crashing at their base.

Sebastian took Clara’s hand as she descended the carriage. He lowered his head to brush his lips across her cheek, pleasure warming his chest when she smiled at him. He then turned to help Andrew down the carriage steps.

“You’ve not been here before?” Sebastian asked.

Andrew shook his head. Since their return from Brighton two weeks ago, he still favored gestures over speaking, but slowly his confidence in speech was beginning to return. More important, the haunted look in his eyes was lessening, eclipsed now by the curiosity and happiness every seven-year-old should possess.

Together they walked to the house, where a line of five servants stood waiting for them. Sebastian had arranged for the staff and the opening of the house prior to their arrival, though as he glanced at the cracks spreading through the window glass and the weeds in the neglected garden, he realized the extent of the work still to be done.

Anticipation lit inside him at the notion of restoring and repairing this property that meant so much to Clara. He would do it for her, but also for himself and Andrew, because he wanted Wakefield House to be more than a place for them to escape London. He wanted it to be their home.

Inside, the furniture and floors were worn but clean, the curtains parted to allow the late autumn sunlight to stream through the windows. Sebastian stopped at the entrance to the drawing room. “Oh, no.”

Clara paused to peer around his shoulder. She laughed. Strewn about the tables were machine parts, gears, and wires. Automata lined the walls—birdcages, mechanical animals, acrobats. A creature that appeared to be an elephant sat atop the piano.

“Did I forget to tell you?” Clara asked. “Uncle Granville spent a great deal of time with us when we stayed in Dorset.”

“Yes, you forgot to tell me.” He glowered at her. “And I neglected to consider the fact that your uncle is a consequence of marriage to you.”

She shot him a smile. “Too late now, isn’t it, husband?”

Too late, indeed. To his great good fortune.

Andrew darted forward to pick up a mechanical turtle, the shell a gleaming design of green metal. He turned the key and grinned as the creature plodded forward on thick legs.

“Oh!” Clara went to a large, closed trunk that sat near the windows. “I didn’t think it would have arrived yet.”

“I had Giles bring it directly from the museum,” Sebastian said.

“Andrew, these are all for you.” Clara unlatched the lid and opened the trunk to reveal the myriad of toys and automata inside. “Uncle Granville made most of them, and others were sent by fellow inventors.”

Andrew hurried to peer into the trunk. Clara took out a wooden acrobat and demonstrated how it flipped into an intricate spin. Andrew laughed.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” Clara handed the toy to her son.

Andrew dug into the trunk and began removing wooden trains and boats. Sebastian watched as Clara straightened and approached him again, a smile curving her mouth and a light glowing in her eyes.

His heart swelled, all the shadows of the past slipping away. The loss he had once considered so dire had become insignificant in the face of all he had found with Clara and Andrew. Although he still could not fathom the extent of his mother’s betrayal, he now understood both the strength and fragility of love. He would do anything to protect it, to ensure that nothing ever again came between him and his family.

He wrapped his arm around Clara’s shoulders and pulled her to him, pressing his lips to the top of her head. She softened against him, one hand sliding over his back. For a moment, they watched Andrew as he began setting up the toys on the floor.

“Andrew, I’m going to talk to the housekeeper,” Clara said. “We’ll have supper in about an hour, I imagine.”

Andrew nodded. Clara gave Sebastian another smile before she headed toward the kitchen.

Sebastian crouched next to Andrew. He picked up a mechanical duck and set it waddling across the floor. He and Andrew both chuckled as the creature emitted a squeaky quack every step or two. Sebastian glanced at the boy.

“Would you like to continue your piano lessons while we’re here?” he asked.

Andrew nodded, his assent bringing a welcome warmth to Sebastian’s heart. After reviewing the charges against Fairfax, a judge had returned custody of Andrew to Clara and Sebastian, a situation that would be permanent as soon as the papers were drawn up.

“I want to make balloons again too,” Andrew said.

“And I’ll also show you how to make crystals using alum and hot water. Let’s see if we can upset the housekeeper here as successfully as we did Mrs. Danvers.”

Andrew grinned. Sebastian reached out to tousle the boy’s hair before he pushed to standing and went out to the garden. A fresh, cold wind swept through the trees. Sebastian breathed in the sea air, felt it swim through his veins and cleanse the dirt of the city from his lungs.

“It was once lovely,” Clara said from behind him. She reached out to pluck a weed from a flower bed.

“It still is. And we’ll restore it to its former glory.” Sebastian tucked a stray lock of hair back behind Clara’s ear. “Darius has promised to visit prior to his return to St. Petersburg. And after he and Granville finish constructing the cipher machine, which they ought to do soon now that they have Rushton’s patronage.”

“When is Lord Rushton scheduled to present it to the Home Office?”

“Next month. Darius is certain that the committee members will be highly impressed by the machine and Monsieur Dupree’s unbreakable code. And if the Home Office uses it to further the British efforts in the war, then such an attainment will greatly enhance Rushton’s political standing.”

“And further diminish the effects of my father’s disgrace upon the earldom,” Clara added, a shadow darkening her eyes.

“As Darius recently reminded me, the earldom is locked tight and secure,” Sebastian said. “And trust me when I say that people are already talking about your courage in the face of your father’s cruelty. Not to mention Andrew’s.”

“I can’t believe we have him back.”

“I can.” Sebastian brushed his lips across her temple. “Nothing would have stopped you from saving him. Nothing. You have no idea how strong you are. Not even I could withstand you.”

Clara smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Yet I surrendered my heart to you.”

“And I will not return it.” He turned her toward him and lowered his head for a proper kiss, heat coursing through his blood at the touch of her soft lips. “But you are welcome to keep mine in exchange.”

“Gladly.”

Clara’s body arched against his, her arms sliding around his waist. Another gust of salt-fresh air glided in from the ocean, winding long strands of hair around Clara’s neck. Sebastian lifted his right hand and curved it around her nape.

Hope filled his veins alongside the realization that she had been right when she told him the core of his being would never change. He had just needed her to remind him how much joy there still was to be found in the world.

Although Rushton had settled Sebastian’s medical debts and begun investigating possible doctors and treatments that might be able to help with his infirmity, Sebastian knew he would never regain full use of his hand. The thought didn’t distress him nearly as much as it would have even a month ago, because so much more had filled the void of his loss.

And he was beginning to find his way back to music. He would find pleasure in teaching piano again. He would also continue his efforts to create compositions for the left hand only, a challenge that was already generating interest and speculation among his fellow musicians. Another pianist had requested a demonstration of the composition, but Sebastian had declined. Soon enough he’d share his findings, but for the moment he wanted only to work alone and to be with Clara and Andrew.

He pressed his mouth to Clara’s again, breathed in her orange-spice scent, and let her remind him of all they had together. All they would continue to have.

The rest of the world could wait.

Lady Talia Hall has a reputation for being sweet and demure. But when her eldest brother’s best friend—and the only man she has ever loved—announces he is about to leave England, Talia has just one night to show him what he will be missing…