“Of course I’m anxious to see Hermione.” Claude took one more minute to survey his appearance in the looking glass and adjust his neck linen. “But why are you so eager to get to Rose Grange. Have you come to your senses and realized what a wonderful wife she will make me?”
“Hardly.” Sebastian jammed on his hat. The more time he spent in the company of Hermione Leonard, the more opposed he became to his brother’s hasty betrothal. “I still believe she is too green and countrified to take her place in Society. I do not want a repeat of the past and neither should you, if you have any sense.”
“Rubbish!” Claude swept past him out the door. “Hermione is nothing like Lydia and I am constantly reminded that I am not at all like you.”
He clambered down the stairs and climbed into the waiting gig, grabbing the reins. Sebastian followed at a more deliberate pace.
Why did his brother sound so offended by what must obviously be a compliment? And why could Claude not see that he was on the brink of making the very same mistake his brother had made. If there was anything to be gained from a painful past, surely it was the warning it provided for the future.
Sebastian had barely settled beside his brother when Claude snapped the reins and the gig shot off down the steep, winding lane at a reckless speed.
Before Sebastian could protest, his brother raised his voice above the rumble of the horse’s hooves and the rattle of the wheels. “What gall you have, sneering at Hermione’s background when you are so obviously smitten with a mere governess!”
“I... smitten...” Sebastian sputtered “... with Rebecca? Ridiculous!”
“Rebecca?” cried Claude in a tone that was at once triumphant and accusing. “You are clearly on very familiar terms with the woman, which proves my charge cannot be so ridiculous after all.”
“It doesn’t mean what you think,” Sebastian protested. “I was only trying to put Miss Beaton at ease.”
That was all he’d meant by it, he assured himself, so the lady might be more inclined to use her influence with Hermione Leonard. He could not deny her found Rebecca... Miss Beaton... an attractive woman with many fine qualities he particularly prized. That did not mean he was smitten with her!
They were only briefly acquainted, after all, and her background was far different from his... at least he assumed it was. Out of the blue, Sebastian found his thoughts consumed by a desperate curiosity about Rebecca’s family and her past.
Confound it all! Could Claude be right? Had his plan to debate the merits of his brother’s engagement been nothing more than a convenient excuse to spend more time in Rebecca’s company? What troubled Sebastian most was that he could have so easily deceived himself.
Well, no more. Now that he recognized what was happening to him, he would soon put a stop to it. He must win the debate, free his brother from the snare of his engagement and get them both far away from the dangerously romantic atmosphere of the Cotswolds.
As he had warned his brother, when it came to matters of the heart, he did not want the past to repeat itself.
“Please try to hold still, Hermione.” Rebecca cast a critical frown at her sketching paper. “How am I ever to capture a good likeness if you are always changing position?”
Since it was rather a cool, dull day, the two of them had taken refuge in the sitting room and seized the opportunity to begin her commission for Mr. Stanhope.
“I’ll try,” Hermione sighed, “but it isn’t easy to stay still with nothing to do. I’d rather keep busy so I don’t have too much time to think.”
“Think about what?” Rebecca concentrated on reproducing the graceful line of Hermione’s neck. The pensive expression on her face was not at all suited to the kind of sketch Claude Stanhope wanted.
“About getting married, of course.” Hermione changed position yet again, propping her chin upon her raised hand.
“Why?” Rebecca strove to keep her inquiry casual as she flicked her pencil this way and that to suggest Hermione’s unruly cascade of curls. “Are you having second thoughts about accepting Mr. Stanhope’s proposal?”
Could Sebastian be right, after all, in his reservations about the young couple’s betrothal? She’d been so delighted at the prospect of Hermione making such a fine match, might she have ignored signs of discord?
Forgetting Rebecca’s plea to stay still, Hermione shook her head. “Not about my feelings for him, if that is what you mean. Though he is the brother of a viscount, Claude is not at all proud. He is always so kind and agreeable and...”
“And?” Rebecca’s pencil flew as she strove to catch the fond expression in Hermione’s dark eyes.
“... and I feel he needs someone to love him. His parents died when he was quite young so he’s only had his brother...”
Rebecca was pleased she’d managed to capture that sweet, elusive look before a chill of aversion crept into Hermione’s gaze. “Whatever your differences with Lord Benedict, I do believe he cares for his brother very much.”
There she went, defending him again. It was true, though. If Sebastian cared less about his brother’s happiness, he would not be trying so hard to break up a match he deemed unsuitable.
“That may be.” Hermione’s pretty mouth pursed in a doubtful frown, which quite spoiled its shape. “But his lordship is not very good at expressing those kinds of feelings.”
Again Rebecca was tempted to disagree. The other evening in the terrace garden at Stanhope Court, Sebastian had shown considerable warmth. Then again, she recalled, he had not been on the point of proposing to her as she’d so foolishly assumed. Had she mistaken him in other respects as well?
“Perhaps their parents’ deaths affected Lord Benedict, too.” The instant that notion occurred to her, Rebecca sensed it might be true.
She felt an even deeper kinship to Sebastian for having endured the same kind of early bereavement she had. His title and fortune could not have compensated for it. Might that be the reason for his staunch support of British troops—because he wanted to see fewer casualties, leaving fewer young orphans of war?
The sudden appearance of the Leonards’ housemaid distracted Rebecca and Hermione from their conversation. “Two gentlemen come to call on you, Miss Leonard. Viscount Benedict and the Honorable Mr. Stanhope.”
“Show our guests in at once, Mary, then go fetch us tea, please.” Hermione leaped from her chair and smoothed her skirts in a manner that looked both eager and anxious.
Rebecca felt only the former. The mere mention of Sebastian’s name had set her heart aflutter. When he strode into the room, a moment later, he seemed to bring a rush of fresh spring air with him.
After an initial flurry of greetings, Claude Stanhope and Hermione retired to the window seat to converse in hushed tones.
If Sebastian resented being ignored, he did not show it, but approached Rebecca and examined her sketch. “An excellent likeness, indeed. You have succeeded in capturing Miss Leonard’s air of winsome youth.”
“How do you manage it?” Rebecca gave an indulgent chuckle.
“Manage what?” he inquired warily.