“N-no,” she admitted, much to Sebastian’s relief. “But I have known people of rank and fortune who despise anyone they consider beneath them.”
Which people, he wondered, and what harm had they done to her? But this was an opportunity for him to explain, not ply her with questions. “Well, I have known people, beautiful women in particular, who use their wiles to prey upon wealthy and titled men in order to advance themselves.”
“How did you know such women?”
He tried to toss off his reply in a tone of indifference, even though it felt as if he had ripped it from the very flesh of his heart. “I had the misfortune of marrying one.”
Chapter Seven
“YOU ARE MARRIED?” A clammy wave of shame broke over Rebecca when she contemplated the tender feelings she’d secretly harbored toward Sebastian.
“Was married,” he corrected her. “Some years ago when I was even younger and more foolish than my brother.”
“You divorced your wife?” Though she had no right in the world, Rebecca could not help feeling slighted that he had once given his heart to another woman.
“Divorced?” Sebastian wrinkled his strong, jutting nose as if at some distasteful odor. “I might have had grounds, but I could not have borne the humiliation of having all that dragged out before my colleagues in Parliament.”
After a moment of uneasy silence, he continued, “Lydia died after two years spent making my life miserable.”
Hearing the pain and bitterness in his voice, Rebecca knew at last what was responsible for that shadow in his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured, knowing she was not offering Sebastian the customary consolation on the loss of his wife. “Why did you not tell me before?”
The question had scarcely left her lips when she realized how little right she had to ask it. She had concealed far more important information from him. Besides, it was none of her business whether or not he’d ever been married.
To her surprise, Sebastian did not bring up either of those reasons against her. “It is not something I care to talk about. Indeed, I try to think of Lydia as little as possible, though my brother’s betrothal has stirred up all manner of unpleasant memories.”
“Perhaps it would help to talk about them.” Rebecca was not certain what prompted her to make such a suggestion—especially since she had never shared her unpleasant memories with anyone else.
She’d sometimes wondered if it might ease the heartache of those recollections, if she could unburden herself to someone close and caring. If she could persuade Sebastian to confide in her, it might help dispel the ghosts of his past. Then perhaps he would recognize that Hermione was nothing like the wife who’d deceived him.
Sebastian did not respond to her offer right away. Rebecca sensed a struggle taking place within him over whether to accept or decline.
“What good would it do?” he demanded at last, with almost savage intensity. “The past is done and nothing can change it. I can only seek to learn from my mistakes and make certain neither I nor my brother repeat them.”
It grieved her to see him suffer over something that had happened years ago. She knew how it felt to bear the scars of the old wounds.
“It is true we cannot change the past.” Groping for the right words, Rebecca raised a silent prayer for guidance. “But I believe people can change if they are open and willing. You changed your opinion of me, not because my character had altered, but because you came to know and understand me better.”
The grim severity of Sebastian’s expression eased as she spoke. Slowly, he sank onto the settee.
“You reckon I can alter my perception of the past by trying to understand it better?” He sounded doubtful but not altogether resistant to the possibility.
“Surely it is worth a try.” With careful, deliberate movements, Rebecca took a seat on the nearest chair.
It was some distance away from Sebastian and not directly opposite him. Instinct, or perhaps inspiration, warned her that he needed to maintain wider physical boundaries if he was to breach those around his heart.
Expecting to encounter further objections or reluctance, she could barely contain her surprise at his next words. “I met Lydia during my first Season in London, when I came to take up my seat in the House of Lords. I was a callow young fool who’d been buried in the Cotswolds trying to raise my younger brother after our father’s death. I was not prepared for the stimulation of Society, the feminine portion in particular.”
As he spoke, Rebecca fancied his features looking more like his brother’s. She could easily picture the young man he’d been—inexperienced, trusting and hungry for someone to love him.
“It was Lydia’s second Season.” Sebastian stared toward the window. The colors of the flowers outside looked even more vivid in contrast to the overcast sky. “When I was first introduced to her, I had never beheld such a glamorous creature. It was as if she had stepped out of a fine painting or the pages of a novel.”
A stab of self-doubt pierced Rebecca. No wonder Sebastian had been willing to give her a second chance and take her into his confidence. Her plain looks and lack of style would have raised no unwelcome reminders of his late, unlamented wife. She possessed none of the charms that might have placed his heart in peril.
She could not be sorry for anything that had allowed her to draw close to him. And yet... part of her wished she had the appeal to make Sebastian as attached to her as she had become to him.
Stifling that foolish regret, she focused her attention on his next words. “When that fascinating creature encouraged my attentions, I was beside myself with delight. Before I knew what was happening, I found myself betrothed, then married to a woman with whom I was barely acquainted. Only once the knot was securely tied did my lovely bride begin to show her true character. I soon discovered it was a hangman’s knot in the noose around my neck.”
He reached up to loosen his neck linen as if he could still feel the rope tightening around his throat. “I knew Lydia had no money to speak of, but I was too unworldly and besotted to care about such matters. After we were married she began wanting more and more from me—jewels, accounts at all the best shops, a small fortune in pin-money. As if her demands were not enough, her grasping relations came crawling out of the woodwork until I feared they would ruin me. When I protested that I could not support them all, she grew cold toward me and threatened to find a man who could give her and her family everything they wanted.
As Rebecca listened, a sense of outrage began to simmer within her, quickly intensifying to a full boil. Just as she had defended Sebastian against Hermione’s critical comments, she now wished she could take up arms on his behalf against his manipulative wife and her pack of greedy relatives. But even if she could go back in time, she would be powerless to stop them. Any help she could give Sebastian must be here and now.