Miss Darcy Falls in Love (23 page)

Therefore, she knew about the labyrinthine love affair her grandson was embroiled in probably better than the persons involved did. She also knew how stupid they both were being on the subject. Unfortunately, her long life and numerous romantic entanglements had taught her that such matters were best left alone, meddling generally making it worse. Still, she was not above a wee bit of interference. Besides, watching her dearly beloved grandson miserably lock himself away in the music room while Miss Darcy looked like she was perpetually ready to burst into tears was interrupting her gaiety, and that was very annoying!

“It will be a delightful party, I am sure, since the de Valdays are masters of entertaining. Nevertheless, we would have been remiss not to attend, as it is our kin who are the guests of honor.”

Sebastian remained silent, only a slight increase in his tension and a shifting in his seat giving voice to his frame of mind.

Lady Warrow continued, “I ran into Lady Matlock and Miss Darcy at the modiste’s two days ago. It was an appointment for final fittings for tonight’s affair and Miss Darcy’s gown was stunning. Oh, to be so young and beautiful again! To have one’s figure soft and toned and perky in all the appropriate places,” she said and sighed dramatically. Pretending not to notice the longing inundating Sebastian’s face, she went on in a thoughtful tone, “She was quite the vision of loveliness, as you shall see tonight, I daresay. Yet something was amiss.”

Sebastian jerked his eyes toward his grandmother, concern and possibly hope now added to the visible desire and love. “How do you mean?”

She shrugged, picking invisible lint from her gown. “Oh, I do not know. Just not as cheery as she generally is. Naturally, she was the epitome of politeness and kindness, dear girl, but an air of sadness surrounded her. Nothing that I am sure a dance or two with my handsome grandson will not cure.”

He grunted. “I imagine her dances will be taken by Lord Caxton.”

“Good heavens, Sebastian! You know as well as I that a young lady unspoken for cannot limit herself to one dance partner! The scandal of it! Why, people would assume they were betrothed or formally courting!”

“But… I thought… that is—is not their arrangement a known fact?”

“What arrangement? Have you heard something I have not, Sebastian? That would be highly unlikely, considering the horrid gossip that I am. Please tell me!” She leaned forward, her face so precisely set in avid curiosity that Sarah Siddons would be jealous.

Sebastian stammered, “Lord Caxton himself told me they had an arrangement. That Miss Darcy had agreed to his courtship. And Miss Darcy confirmed it.”

Did
she?
Or
did
you
assume
it?
He frowned, shaking his head against the abrupt onslaught of conflicting viewpoints and emotions.

Lady Warrow waved her hand dismissively. “Well, I have heard nothing other than that the baron continues to pursue while Miss Darcy evades. Interpret that how you wish. Oh, we have arrived! Hand me my fan, will you, dear boy?” Sebastian automatically did as requested, the marchioness using the device to hide her satisfied smirk.

They entered the glittering reception hall of the de Valday townhouse, Lady Warrow regal and stunning even in her seniority. She clasped her grandson’s arm lightly, always thrilled to be the center of attention and at the side of an attractive man years younger than her, even if he was kin.

Sebastian stood tall and elegant, wearing garments of the finest cut and weave, the black ensemble with maroon waistcoat a striking contrast to his fair skin and light-golden hair. He had pulled himself together, superior breeding and decades of training proving to be an asset against the throbbing in his heart and clash of thoughts swirling through his brain.

His eyes scanned the crowds searching for the only face he truly wanted to see, yet he was frozen in nervousness as to how he would react when he saw her.
How
will
she
react
to
me?
Fortunate for his nerves, he had little time to dwell on the idea, as he was speedily surrounded by dozens of friends sincerely delighted to see him. Bare minutes passed before his native charm and gregarious personality managed to supplant the anxiety. Quickly caught up in the merriment of lighthearted conversation and music, his eyes continued to dart amid the press of bodies and shifting gaps for the particular figure and graceful carriage that he would recognize instantly.

Easily a half hour passed, as he surrendered to the joy of laughter, discovering the atmosphere a welcome balm to the turbulence within. Freedom from the aching yearning to see Georgiana—
Where
was
she?
—and the fear of pain to be caused if she arrived on Lord Caxton’s arm was not attained, but for the present he was somewhat calm.

He stood near the massive staircase that led to the upper level, one hand resting casually upon the ornately carved wooden railing, chatting with a group of students from the Conservatoire when everything changed.

Sebastian would never know what captured his attention and caused him to look left, upward to the gallery above. His fanciful nature would forever say his soul felt her presence, but whatever the reality, he glanced upward and instantly lightning struck deep into the marrow of his bones.

All he could do was stare.

Georgiana wore a gown of three shades of blue, falling in gossamer layers of silk over a lacy petticoat. The cinched, wide sash of gold-threaded cobalt rested just under her full bosom and fell in a cascade over her bottom to the floor. A diaphanous strip of palest blue loosely surrounded her slender neck and edged her décolletage, providing some modesty while accenting the feminine flesh encased inside the bodice. The blazing light highlighted the sheen in her abundant hair, each tress artfully arranged with the circlet of gold and blue stones the perfecting accent. Her pale skin was slightly flushed, her blue eyes glossy, and her plump lips curved into a soft smile.

For Sebastian, the room faded and the hum disappeared. For that moment, in that instant, everything melted away. All of the doubt, the pain, and the unknowing vanished. It was only Georgiana and how utterly he loved her. He did not even try to prevent the radiance of his emotions from diffusing over his face.

The minutes leading up to her entrance, Georgiana had not struggled with emotion but with a body determined to fail her. Alone in her room with both windows open and a cool breeze flooding the air to revitalize her feverish mind, she had perked up a bit and deluded herself into believing she was well enough. Then she entered the hall, it already warm from an abundance of lights and people, and the restorative quality vanished.

Traversing the passageway took an eternity, the balcony railing a blessing of solidity under her hand. She scanned the moving crowd below as she slowly walked toward the stairs leading to the foyer that was awash with human bodies, and spied Mr. Butler mere seconds before he lifted his gaze to her.

She paused to observe him where he stood tall and handsome, relaxed and smiling at the bottom of the steps. Peace washed through her as she studied his attractive profile, the squared line of his jaw, the broad expanse of his shoulders under the dark suit, and the long fingers lying atop the balustrade. Love in its purest form speared her, and for a moment the clouds and haziness of pain vanished.

I
have
no
choice. I only want him.

Then he turned and those gorgeous eyes of stormy-gray alit upon her face. His countenance broke into a spontaneous display of unfettered joy and unleashed brilliance.
He
loves
me!
It was written transparently upon his face and in the eyes that caressed her. The knowledge of returned affection both weakened her muscles and lent her the necessary strength to quicken her pace. Her decision had been reached in those heartbeats before he looked upon her, but knowing that he loved her only made it sweeter.

With her gaze locked with his, she crossed the short span to the stairs, beginning her descent gracefully but with an accelerated tempo. The hunger to hear his voice and feel his soft touch spurred her on and kept the tendrils of weariness and pain at bay.

Sebastian watched her countenance transform into the vision of the Georgiana in his dreams, a Georgiana who was his wife and who loved him. His heart leapt, performing a musical crescendo in his sudden joy at the expression spreading over her dainty features. The flair of happiness shining from her eyes electrified every nerve and he could not breathe, but it was precious agony.

Eyes never leaving the glory of her face, he shifted his weight to head toward her when abruptly the magical revelation was ripped apart.

The baron strode into the scene, marching directly in front of Sebastian. The baron’s brawny body invaded the minuscule space between Sebastian and the staircase riser, forcing him to step hastily backward and break eye contact with Georgiana.

Everything thereafter occurred in rapid succession.

Georgiana’s step faltered with the unexpected severing of the invisible chord that had anchored her to Sebastian. Her focus shifted to Lord Caxton, mainly due to his body blocking the view of the other, and the brilliant smile still lighting her face was directed at him.

Sebastian recovered his balance, stepped to the right, and looked past the baron to see Georgiana’s radiant smile and shining eyes fixed upon the older man.
It
was
never
you, fool!
His jaw clenched in anger, pain assaulted him with the power of a physical blow, and he turned his stiffened body away from witnessing the lovers’ greeting.

Lord Caxton ascended the stairs, Georgiana’s smile fading at the hardness to his dark eyes and harsh set of his face. She backed up a step and leaned onto the railing, glancing away from his cold smile just in time to witness a furious Sebastian pivot away.

Sadness enveloped her as a wet blanket. Every ache and pain resurged through her head and muscles with renewed force. She shivered and gasped, clutching onto the banister as the room began to spin wildly. The epiphany reached just seconds previous was as absolute as ever, but coherent thought suddenly became mixed with fantasy as the wispy edges of shadow intruded.

She looked back to the baron, who was now only four steps below her. The urge to speak the truth and shout her feelings aloud raged within, the hoarsely croaked plea bursting through her lips.

“Please, Lord Caxton, I need you…”

But the remainder to that sentence, the declaration that she needed him to understand that her love was firmly fixed elsewhere, was left temporarily unspoken. Instead, her knees buckled as a wave of furious heat struck her flesh, unconsciousness wrapped around her, and she tumbled forward into the arms of Lord Caxton.

***

Please, Lord Caxton, I need you… Lord Caxton, I need you… I need you… I need you…

The words rang over and over inside Sebastian’s head, causing him physical pain, and the terrifying vision of a senseless Georgiana lying in the baron’s arms would never be erased.

Chaos ensued. A physician was called for as Georgiana was whisked off to an upper room. Sebastian stood stunned at the bottom of the staircase watching the woman he loved being carried away by another man. Word rapidly spread to the gathering mass of friends and family, many of them forgoing the party to collect in the library and wait for word.

Sebastian paced, the vigorous movement necessary to bear the agony slicing through him. The ball recommenced and, although dimmed in its merry fervor, the strains of music reached the hushed room. Sebastian found no solace in the refrains from the orchestra. Rather it wore on his nerves. So he paced.

“Sebastian, dear, please sit down! You are giving me a headache and wearing a hole in the carpet will not speed up the doctor’s appearance.”

He strode to the dark window, released a huge sigh, clasped his hands behind his back, and fruitlessly willed the frantic worry and ache to ease. He ignored his grandmother’s sympathetic gaze resting upon him, her concern indicative of his distraught appearance no matter how hard he tried to hold himself together.

The door opened, every eye swinging to the portal in hope and dread, but it was only a servant relating word from Lord Matlock that Miss Darcy was currently being examined by the physician and that she was unconscious and burning with a fever.

The waiting recommenced. As did Sebastian’s pacing.
Why
has
Caxton
not
returned?
Sebastian knew it was a bit childish, but the thought of Lord Caxton standing vigil near the stricken woman while he was relegated to the lower chambers was infuriating. Jealousy was one more emotion to add to what ate up his insides.

Eventually, Lord Matlock arrived to update the worried guests, accompanied by a clearly disturbed Lord Caxton.