A Heartless Design (22 page)

At the door, Bond paused. “Ma’am? I…”

“Don’t worry about me, dear,” Cordelia said at last. “I’m not sorry. I did it for myself and my home. While I would do it again, I am sure nothing like it
will
happen again. I know how foolish that would be, no matter how much I…” she stopped speaking, but Bond saw a tender smile spread across her features.

The maid bit back a smile of her own. Bond gave a small curtsey and left the room, with Cordelia’s dress and cloak in hand. Seeing her mistress’s pleased expression, she felt much better about the whole thing. Perhaps it had been worth it after all.

Cordelia sank back in the bed. What she told Bond was the truth…partly. She wasn’t sorry she did it, but the whole truth was that she was profoundly happy she had. She would never do such a mad thing again, of course. But it had been wonderful, and she would never forget it.

After Cordelia left, Sebastien locked up the St James house and roamed the early morning streets in a daze. His mind was full of the green-eyed beauty. Far from satisfying him, last evening only sharpened his need.

Her cool demeanor that morning threw him, to say the least. He knew she had enjoyed their encounter, but she appeared to be perfectly willing to forget it now that it was done. Heartless, indeed. That should be a comfort to him. Hadn’t he just been worrying about the entanglements of a real affair? But nature was perverse, and he found himself rather aggrieved by her attitude. One night. At the time, it seemed perfect. Now he knew that it wasn’t.

He had more than enough to set her up as mistress. He could see her when he was in England, and she could live anywhere she wished in the meantime. It was not an unheard of arrangement. But in his heart, he knew Cordelia would reject such an offer just as surely as a marriage proposal, though for different reasons. She was gently bred, and had certainly never contemplated life as some man’s mistress.

Then too, there was the nagging thought that he did not want her as mistress either. He wanted her, fully and completely. He was startled by the certainty of the feelings she aroused in him, but he knew himself better than to deny them.

Eventually, he returned to his family’s townhouse. Despite the early hour, he didn’t even get inside before he was sighted. Adele was already in the street on her horse, about to leave on her morning ride. She was too young to keep late hours. A pair of grooms followed her.

On seeing Sebastien walking toward the door, she pulled up the reins. “Is this a good time to use the phrase ‘look what the cat dragged in’?” she asked, dimples showing in her cheeks.

“Probably,” he said in a tired, distracted voice.

“I say, are you feeling quite well?” Adele dismounted. “Have you even slept?”

“Barely,” he admitted.

“Off at one of your gaming hells or some such,” Adele guessed. Though young, she was observant, and she understood far more than most girls her age, having seen Sebastien’s earlier poor choices at close range.

“If I was, it’s not your concern. Go on your ride.”

“No,” she said, determined. “We need to talk.”

“This isn’t the best time.”

“Mama’s still fast asleep, so it’s a fine time,” she insisted. “Do you want to go inside and get some coffee to pry your eyes open? Are you hungry?”

“I want sleep.”

“You can have it after we talk.”

He shrugged. “Then let’s move to the garden. I don’t want to go inside quite yet.”

Adele left her horse where the grooms could watch over it, and walked around the side of the house with Sebastien. The garden was filled with sunlight, filtering through the trees. Sebastien sat down on a stone bench. Adele paced in front of him, flipping her riding crop idly.

“Very well,” he said. “What are we talking about that’s of such import?”

“Your marriage prospects.”

“What?” He blinked, his mind instant conjuring an image of Cordelia. “Why should you care?”

Adele looked at him as though
he
were the child. “Sebastien, it would be most helpful to me if you were married and well settled in Thorne Hall by the beginning of next Season. I will come out then, and Mama needs to be focused on that event. However, she is currently obsessed with your courtship…or rather the lack of any.”

“One has nothing to do with the other.”

“Of course it does. I will be judged based on my family. What sounds like more of a catch? The younger sister of a dissolute gambler who vanishes from polite society for weeks at a time, and then stumbles home drunk in the morning?”

He opened his mouth to protest, but Adele brandished the crop meaningfully. “Or…” she went on, “or the younger sister of the esteemed Lord Thorne, Earl of Thornbury, who is well married, reformed, and the head of our newly solvent estate?”

“I think I can guess which one you prefer,” he said.

“It’s the second one!” she exclaimed with mock cheer. Then her eyes narrowed. “I don’t want to field questions about your behavior during my first Season. I certainly don’t want the world to doubt our finances or our family prospects. So you settling down will help me settle down.”

“Next Season is months away.”

“Which is why I raise the issue now. Courtship does take some time.”

He reserved a moment’s pity for the man who would end up in Adele’s sights. Whoever he might be, he wouldn’t stand a chance. “I promise to consider your concerns, Adele.”

“You had better,” Adele swore, slapping the riding crop against her boot. “Ow!” she yelped, suddenly sounding much more like the young person she was.

“Are you sure you know how to use that?”

“I’m an excellent rider,” she sniffed.

“Are we done here? I think I need coffee after all.”

“Not quite. Tell me about Miss Bering.”

He went still. “What?”

She rolled her eyes. “Miss Cordelia Bering. You told Mama you were auditioning ladies for the part of countess! And you danced with her at the party,” Adele reminded him impatiently. “I thought she was very kind. Mama says she’s got good blood. Is she important?”

“There are different kinds of importance,” he said. How could he possibly explain Cordelia’s importance without revealing too much? “She has neither a title, nor great wealth.”

“What then is her appeal?” Adele asked. “I admit that she’s a beauty. Do you think it unfortunate that I’m fair-haired? I worry that I should be faded by the time I reach Miss Bering’s advanced age.”

“Advanced? The lady is still younger than I am!” he snapped. “Am I decrepit?”

“No, you’re family.” Adele put on her charming, dimpled smile. “Now tell me why you like her so.”

“She’s…intriguing,” he said carefully. Lord, that didn’t begin to describe her. He remembered the feel of her beneath him and actually began to shake a little.

“Do you love her?” Adele asked curiously.

He paused, unprepared for that question, even to himself. Love? Lust, oh yes. But then why the dream of marrying her, keeping her with him? “It’s not that… It’s far too early…”

“I think you love her,” his sister pronounced. “And does she love you?”

“How would I know?”

“Did she tell you?” Adele’s eyes widened. “Have you kissed her? I hear that’s the best way to tell if one loves you.”

“Stop your romantic driveling right now,” Sebastien said, standing up so that he towered over her, hoping to remind her that he was the adult here. “You think you understand the world because you read a few books and listen in on adults’ conversations from the stairs. You think that one simply ranks potential spouses as if they’re horses at market? It’s more complex than that, as you’ll discover soon enough,
little
sister.”

Adele was not cowed. She merely ducked around him and jumped up on the stone bench he just vacated. “You love her!” she whispered triumphantly.

“I don’t,” he denied flatly. “And even if I did, that is hardly the only consideration for a marriage.”

“Oh, to be sure,” Adele said, pacing the bench excitedly. “You can go get your breakfast now. I shall take my ride as usual.”

“That’s all? You’re done with me?”

“Yes, indeed.” Adele smiled. “Everything is well in hand.”

He frowned. “I don’t like that at all. What are you planning?”

“Absolutely nothing, my dear
older
brother.” She pranced away toward the drive again. He let her go, unwilling to wade further into a discussion about romance at this hour. His mind in a tumult, he gave up and lay down on the wide bench. Adele’s inquisition had set off far too many warning bells in his brain.

Cordelia was strange, secretive, and maddening. Even after last night, he knew she was still hiding something from him, and he was sure that he didn’t trust her any more than she trusted him. But he also knew that he’d happily destroy anything that threatened her. Then she asked him to ruin her, and he did it without a second thought. How was that for irony? 

All he knew for certain was that she had become very important to him, and the thought of her vanishing from his life made his hands shake. Good God, was Adele right? Had he somehow, and long before last night, fallen in love with the heartless Cordelia Bering?

* * * *

Cordelia’s day proved to be as off kilter as Sebastien’s. She slept late, rising only at Bond’s insistence. The maid’s worried look and fussing only subsided when Cordelia quietly reassured her that she was not pining for Thorne or her lost innocence.

But she was certainly not the same woman as before. She was adrift, dazed by the experience of the previous night. Had it been worth the possibility of being discovered and disgraced? She thought it might be. Still, she knew that she had done the sensible thing in not trying to continue the affair.

She went to her study, determined to reassert her routine. Her mind cleared as she lost herself in the details of the various problems people sent in their letters to Lear. She was herself again.

And wasn’t that just what she wanted? Now she knew precisely what married life might offer. It was no longer a mystery, and she need not fear that she was going to miss out, because surely she would never meet another man like Sebastien Thorne. Any other potential husband would be…disappointing.

She was annoyed to discover that her thoughts had drifted from her work to the memory of last night, and she redoubled her efforts, responding to several queries.

A few hours later, Ivy rapped lightly on the door. “Mr Jay is here,” the maid said.

“Show him through.”

Jay was ushered in a minute later. He sat down when Cordelia indicated the seat across from her.

“What brings you here, Mr Jay?”

“I heard something I thought you should know,” he began. His expression was serious, and his eyes raked her nervously.

Her heart lurched for a moment. Surely she had not been recognized either last night or this morning? She’d be ruined. Cordelia realized she was not sanguine about that possibility after all.

But Jay was already speaking of another subject. “I was at the Atheneum yesterday, and was asked if I had been contacted regarding either Mr Bering’s or Mr Lear’s papers held at the society. I said I had not, and the gentleman told me that I would be soon, since he’d given my name to the one who inquired. I don’t like this sudden interest, and I worry that you’ll be unmasked. Miss Bering, is there something I ought to know about what you’re doing under Lear’s name?”

She rubbed her temples. “You know more than anyone else, believe me. Tell me, though, has Mr Hayden ever been to see you?”

“Hayden? The one who’s been courting you?” Jay frowned. “No, he has not. I would not have thought that man had the slightest interest in these matters.”

“Neither did I, but it has come to my attention that he has, let’s say, a financial stake in my father’s work…and Lear’s, though thankfully he does not understand what that means. And he is most definitely no longer courting me,” she added, with finality. She gave him a limited account of what happened.

Jay’s expression grew alarmed, then disapproving, then furious. “Hayden is a fraud, then. I am sorry you had to endure that offense. Should I bring this to the attention of the authorities?”

“No, I could not risk you getting involved.”

“Miss Bering, I
am
involved. I do wish you could trust me.”

“I trust you more than anyone I know! But I don’t think there is anything you can do at this point.” She inhaled. If Jay knew that she’d given the doctored plans to Sebastien, and where and how it happened, Jay would be so scandalized he’d never associate with her again.

“What if someone asks me about Lear?”

“Be as unhelpful as you can without antagonizing him. Tell him that you’ve met Lear, but you aren’t friends. If anyone asks why you visit me, tell them…oh, I don’t know. Tell them you hope to court me.”

“Not a difficult thing to believe,” Jay said, a faint smile finally lighting his features. Then he stood up. “I must be going. Please take care of yourself, Miss Bering. If I may be so bold as to speak this intimately, you look as if you need rest.”

She managed a smile. “Good advice, Mr Jay. I will avail myself of it.”

After he left, Cordelia directed the servants that she would be at home to no one else who called for the remains of the day. She did try to rest, sitting out in the gardens with Aunt Leona. But when her aunt retired for an afternoon nap before an event, Cordelia stayed outside alone, lost in thought. She was consumed by worry for the fate of the
Andraste
designs, not to mention the possibility that Lear’s identity would be revealed if this fiasco continued. Then Cordelia would have no means of supporting her household, and their poverty would be on her head.

She might have to marry simply to keep fed, and to keep Aunt Leona near her. How miserable, to have turned down so many sincere proposals over the years, only to have to chase after a husband out of desperation. She couldn’t imagine marrying anyone. Well, she couldn’t imagine marrying anyone who wasn’t Sebastien. She’d been intrigued by him immediately. And after last night…how could she imagine sharing another man’s bed?

She put her head down. In retrospect, last night had been most unwise. She’d only wanted to experience something she thought she’d never have. But by losing her innocence, she also lost her ignorance. Ironically, she would miss that far more.