“I reckon I did feel that sort of instant attraction once.” His fingers dug into the arms of the chair and his voice grew cold and harsh. “To my grief, I later discovered I was deceived.”
Rebecca’s flying pencil fell still and her face reappeared from behind the easel. “I am sorry for that, Sebastian. You are a fine man and you deserve better.”
Her sincere sympathy and the sweet sound of his name on her lips were like balm on an old, ulcerated wound. If only Rebecca had stopped there...
“I know you must be anxious to prevent your brother from being deceived as you were. But you need have no such fears of Hermione, I promise you. She would never harm a soul, least of all a man she cares for as she does your brother.”
Sebastian found himself dangerously tempted to believe her, but he had been protecting Claude for so long. Sometimes he’d been so busy watching out for his brother that he hadn’t thought to watch out for himself. He could not stop now.
“Perhaps she would not mean to hurt him.” Forgetting he was supposed to be posing for the sketch, Sebastian sprang from his chair and began to pace the sitting room. “But they are both so young, her especially. You can vouch for her kind heart, but what of her judgment, her constancy?”
As he passed the window, he gestured toward the garden where the young couple were walking arm-in-arm, talking and laughing. They looked deliriously happy.
Sebastian reminded himself that delirium was a form of madness brought on by fever. When he glanced toward Rebecca, he feared that fever might be catching.
Chapter Six
A MIXTURE OF pride and hopeless yearning welled up in Rebecca’s heart as she stared at her sketch of Sebastian, which still needed a little work to complete. She marveled that her hands had managed to produce such a good likeness of him while so much of her mind had been occupied with defending Hermione.
Though it might not be as accurate a portrait as a professional artist could render, she flattered herself that it captured his dynamic spirit. About the mouth, she’d managed to convey the self-deprecating wit behind which he hid his basic goodness and concern for others. And in those guarded eyes of his, she’d revealed a secret shadow that had puzzled her... until he’d spoken of being deceived.
Then she’d understood—in part at least. She could not entirely fathom his feelings, having never before experienced the pain of love rejected or betrayed. Perhaps that was why her awkward effort to comfort him had misfired so badly.
Instead of being soothed by her overture, Sebastian had bolted from his chair to stride around the room, firing off questions about Hermione’s judgment and faithfulness. Much as Rebecca wanted to defend the dear girl against his charges, she could not forget the reservations Hermione herself had expressed about marriage before the gentlemen arrived.
Coming to an abrupt halt near the window, Sebastian had flicked a glance toward the young couple strolling in the garden. Then he’d turned to fix Rebecca with a reproachful glare. “How do we know she accepted his proposal because she truly cares for him and not just because she considers him a good catch.”
The question troubled Rebecca. If a man with a comfortable home and a good income ever asked for her hand, would she accept even if she felt no particular affection for him? Would it be such a terrible sin if she did, her practical nature demanded.
Stung by Sebastian’s tone and the conflicting feelings he’d stirred in her, Rebecca was sorely tempted to let fly with a scathing retort. Then she glimpsed the shadow in his eyes that had found its way into her drawing. She realized his question had not been meant to accuse or offend her. It sprang from his own private pain. Just as she could not fully comprehend the anguish of being deceived, Sebastian did not understand the pressures young women faced.
“I believe Hermione does love your brother.” Rebecca set down her pencil and stepped out from behind her easel. “You might see it too if you would look beyond your prejudice against her. I wish you could have heard her singing Mr. Stanhope’s praises just before you arrived.”
“But?” Sebastian voiced the word she had stifled.
Rebecca hesitated, torn between her loyal inclination to see Hermione well wed and reluctance to let an impetuous young couple make a mistake they might regret for the rest of their lives. “Hermione said she was not having second thoughts about her feelings for your brother.”
“She is having second thoughts, though?” Sebastian seized upon the damaging implication eagerly. “Did she tell you what aspect of the match troubles her?”
“No!” Rebecca wanted to clap a hand over her mouth, though she knew it was too late. Had she betrayed a confidence that Lord Benedict might use as a wedge between Hermione and Miss Stanhope? “But I can hazard a guess what it might be.”
“By all means,” Sebastian urged her, “hazard away.”
Could she make up for her earlier lapse or would she only compound it?
Either way, she could not keep silent. “Perhaps Hermione worries that proud people like you will look down on her because her fortune and connections are not as lofty as yours. Perhaps she fears they will make her feel unwelcome in their society. She may even wonder if they will seek to turn Mr. Stanhope against her and make him regret having married her.”
She had not meant to go on at such length or for her tone to grow so sharp. Sebastian was a fine man and she had come to like him very much. Lately she feared that liking had strayed into more dangerous territory. For all that, she was becoming impatient with his stubborn antipathy toward the girl she loved like a sister.
To her surprise, Sebastian seemed to recoil from her outburst. “By they I presume you mean me. Do you share these fears you attribute to Miss Leonard? Do you believe me capable of sowing discord between her and Claude if they wed?”
The shadow in his eyes darkened further. He seemed wounded that she could entertain such a notion about him. But why on earth should it matter what someone in her position thought of him?
Torn between her confused feelings for him and loyalty to Hermione, Rebecca was compelled to speak the truth—though she softened her tone in an effort to spare his feelings. “I do not want to believe you would ever do such a thing. But given your coldness toward Miss Leonard and the effort you have made to break the engagement, I cannot be certain what you might do if she and your brother wed against your wishes.”
Sebastian took a step toward her, bringing him closer than was proper for a gentleman to approach an unattached lady. Discretion warned Rebecca to put a more seemly distance between them. But she could not bring herself to back down when she was right. Besides, she liked being close to him, even when he bristled with annoyance.
“I am very disappointed that you could have formed such a vile opinion of me, Rebecca.” His slate-blue gaze bored into hers. “I thought you knew me better than that.”