What You Desire (Anything for Love, Book 1) (32 page)

Chapter 30

At the sound of a gentle rap on the study door, Sebastian lifted his head off the desk, the hard surface being a most unsuitable place to sleep, brushed his hands through his hair and bid the caller to enter.

Dudley Spencer poked his head around the door and asked in his usual amused tone, “Is it safe to come in?” The response Sebastian gave was nothing more than a grunt and Dudley stepped into the room and closed the door. “I thought Haines was exaggerating when he said all you do all day is growl and grumble.” Dudley drew a chair up to the desk and sat down. “It seems we can add grunting to your newfound repartee. As you’ve come back to town, I take it you have still not found your wife.”

Sebastian stared at him intently. “You know very well she is not my wife. Yet you still insist on tormenting me,” he replied, his bitter tone reflecting his mood.

Dudley inclined his head. “I must admit I am not used to seeing you so out of sorts. I find I rather like it. It makes me feel vastly superior, knowing you have made such a mess of everything.”

“What do you want?” Sebastian barked, which was a polite way of saying
leave me the hell alone
.

Dudley raised a brow as his mouth curved into a sardonic grin. “I merely came to update you on the progress of our new finishing school.”

“It is not a finishing school,” Sebastian corrected. He sat back in the chair and folded his arms across his chest. “And if you think I am writing another letter to Marie to relay any more good news about the social advancement of her girls, you can think again.”

Indeed, the woman had refused to offer any insight into Sophie’s whereabouts. A whole month had passed since he’d returned home from Dover to discover that Sophie had already left for Marchampton.

He had raced on ahead of James, driven by a need to be with her, to hold her in his arms and claim her as his own. He should have known something was wrong when he discovered she had left before breakfast and without her brother’s knowledge. If he had bothered to check her room, he would have known she had taken nothing other than the clothes she had arrived in. If he had bothered to stop and call in at the mews, instead of insisting that Altair be brought out quickly, he would have known she had not taken Argo.

Instead, he had ridden all the way to Marchampton to discover, to his disappointment, that she was not there. He had waited three days, three days of pacing and worrying before James rode over to Westlands with the letter. A letter she had been written and sealed in his blasted study. He must have read it fifty times or more and still it did not make any sense.

“I take it Marie still refuses to say a word about Miss Beaufort’s mysterious disappearance.”

Sebastian stretched across the table, picked up the crystal glass and swallowed what was left of his brandy. He did not bother to ask if his friend cared for any refreshment. “Miss Beaufort has not disappeared,” he sighed in agitation. “Her letter stated quite clearly that she had enjoyed her freedom in town so much, she did not wish to return home. She wants to break free from society’s constraints and live independently.”

Dudley pursed his lips but could not prevent a small snigger from escaping. “You mean she found you far too domineering. I always knew you would have to settle for one of those wallflower types.”

Sebastian jumped up out of his seat and threw himself across the desk. “How can you sit there and jest about such a thing when you know my feelings on the matter. I’m in love with her, damn it,” he said prodding his own chest. “Me, the man who is always practical, the man who was going to choose a bride based on status and wealth and a host of other stupid notions. The man who would choose any reason to avoid making the same mistake as my father.” Sebastian dropped back into the chair and sighed. “Yet here I am, suffering a pain that rips and tears at my heart, suffering in the knowledge I have lost everything.” He was quiet for a moment and looked past Dudley to an invisible point on the wall. “If she walked through the door I do not know whether I would strangle her or kiss her until she could not breathe.”

Dudley cast him a pitiful look. “The problem is, you do not know how to deal with women.”

“If that’s all you’ve come to say, you can go.”

Dudley ignored his blunt reply. “You expect Marie to break an oath she made to a friend. Would you break such a confidence? No, you would not,” Dudley continued, answering his own question. He sat back in the chair with a smug grin. “You should have been far more cunning in your approach to the matter. Indeed, with a campaign involving a degree of delicate moves, it was not difficult to discover that Miss Beaufort has hidden herself away so you may marry someone deemed more worthy. Marie provided the opportunity for her to do so.”

Sebastian’s mouth fell open and he sat up straight. “What? How do you know this?” he asked, with some impatience.

“Marcus told me,” Dudley replied. “I stressed the importance of the situation and he obliged by persuading Marie of the seriousness of your suit.”

“But why would she tell Marcus?” Sebastian asked somewhat bemused.

Dudley raised a brow and shook his head. “Please tell me you are not that naïve. Marcus was always useful when it came to beautiful women. Although I fear, Marie is not such easy prey.”

Sebastian recalled a comment made by his coachman. “Haines did say she slapped Marcus across the face for being too familiar when they first met,” Sebastian sniggered. It was the first time he had laughed in a month. “Perhaps it was my fault for telling him she was the madame of a brothel.”

“I don’t know,” Dudley shrugged, “living in an old monastery does strange things to a man.” He removed a letter from his pocket and handed it to Sebastian. “The details are all in there. If you hurry, you could be with Miss Beaufort for luncheon.”

Sebastian could not stop smiling. He scanned the letter. “Dudley, I don’t know what to say … High Wycombe! She’s been in High Wycombe all this time.”

“I know,” Dudley laughed, “and I thought you were adept at locating runaways.” He held Sebastian’s gaze and said in a more serious tone, “Do not forget, Miss Beaufort believes herself unworthy of you. I would hate for you to say the wrong thing and ruin all of my hard work.”

“Your hard work,” Sebastian mocked, patting his friend on the shoulder as he hurried towards the door. “What about Marcus?”

“I have it on good authority that Marcus Danbury has thoroughly enjoyed pursuing this particular line of inquiry,” Dudley whispered to himself as he heard Sebastian’s footsteps bounding up the stairs.

With her trowel in hand, Sophie stepped back from the border and admired her work. It had been a laborious task, clearing the neglected garden, but it had kept her busy, kept her mind from straying to thoughts of Dane.

She wiped her brow with the back of her hand and then rubbed her lower back. Being bent over for such long periods had taken its toll. It would take too long to heat enough water for a bath, so she would settle for a cup of tea instead and then perhaps a long walk. That would straighten her out, she thought, as she cleared away her tools and basket and nipped inside to wash her hands.

As lovely as the cottage was, with its thatched roof and quaint little windows, Sophie could not see Marie living happily in such seclusion. Even someone used to a rural way of life, as Sophie was, would find it quite lonely at times. Oh, the days were fine, as there was always plenty to do. It was the nights that were the most difficult; it was the nights when all the memories came flooding back.

She’d always known it would be a challenge, but the hole left by Dane’s absence was growing bigger by the day, swallowing her up bit by bit. Sometimes, she would wake at night and imagine him lying next to her, imagine the warmth radiating from his body, enveloping her. Sometimes, she would catch his masculine scent in the air, but when she tried to locate the smell it always faded away, dissolving into nothing.

The lengthy absence had proved one thing: her soul would be forever entwined with his. No matter where she went or what she did, she would never feel complete again.

After dabbing at her eyes with the pads of her fingers, she looked out through the window. An image of Dane formed before her, of him standing tall and strong as he tied his horse to the post next to the gate. Her foolish heart skipped a beat and she cursed.

Was it not enough that her visions disturbed her dreams? Was she now going to be taunted during her waking hours, too?

In a fit of temper, she marched over to the cottage door and flung it open, in the hope such a torturous image would disappear so she could be left alone in peace.

“Am I late for luncheon?” Dane asked, lowering his hand as though he had intended to knock.

Sophie placed her hand over her heart as she studied the magnificent form filling the doorway. “Dane,” she whispered, sounding breathless. She put her hand out and touched his blue coat, the tips of her fingers barely grazing the material. “Is it really you?”

Dane glanced over his shoulder. “Who else were you expecting?” He removed a glove, lifted a hand and wiped something from her cheek. The feel of his warm fingers was too much to bear and she suddenly felt dizzy. She put her hand to her head and blinked in a bid to dispel the sparks of bright lights flashing before her eyes.

Then everything went black.

When Sophie opened her eyes, she was lying on the bed and immediately thought she’d imagined the whole thing — until Dane walked into the room carrying a cup of tea. He’d removed his hat and coat and as he placed the cup on the bedside table, a lock of hair fell over his brow. Straightening, he brushed it back and offered her one of his boyish smiles. It lit up his whole face and he had never looked more handsome.

“I shall end up with a permanent stoop after a week of living here,” he said jovially as he glanced up at the ceiling, which was only an inch or two above his head. “I have hit my head three times or more.”

Sophie simply stared at him. “How did you know where to find me?”

Dane folded his arms across his chest and grinned with smug satisfaction. “Marcus Danbury wrote to Dudley. Apparently, he tortured Marie until she told him.”

Sophie gasped. “If he’s hurt her —”

“When I say torture, I do not mean in the literal sense. Danbury can be very charming and extremely persuasive. He is renowned for his expertise with women.”

“I cannot believe Marie would be so weak as to fall prey to such a libertine,” Sophie replied, attempting to sit up so she could drink her tea.

“Weak!” Dane exclaimed stepping forward to offer his assistance, but she dismissed him with a wave of the hand. “It has taken him the best part of three weeks to accomplish something he would normally achieve in an afternoon. Under the circumstances, I believe Marie has been exceptional in her attempt to defy him.” He glanced towards the end of the bed and said, “May I sit?”

Sophie nodded reluctantly, for to be in such close proximity would only cause more pain and disappointment. She took another sip of tea and placed the cup back on the table. “What did you mean when you said you would develop a stoop living here?”

“Exactly that,” he replied. Examining the bed, he added, “Perhaps I should spend an equal amount of time lying down. This bed is rather on the narrow side, but it shouldn’t be a problem. I am sure you —”

“You cannot stay here,” Sophie interrupted, overcome with a wave of panic. “We cannot continue as before.” Although there was nothing she desired more.

Dane smiled. “I know that,” he said softly, his warm brown eyes melting her heart. “But I am not leaving, not now, not ever.”

Sophie wanted to throw her arms around him, to draw him down, to feel the weight of his body, to plead with him to keep his vow. But she held her resolve. “And do I not have a say in the matter?” she said coolly.

Dane searched her face and his gaze came to rest on her mouth. “If that beautiful mouth of yours would just speak the truth. If those sumptuous lips would convey what was in your heart instead of what is muddling around in your head, then I would gladly listen to what you have to say.”

He was still staring at her mouth and she moistened her lips. “I have told you, told you in my letter. I want to be left alone, left to live independently and away from —”

Dane leaned forward and placed his finger on her lips to silence her. “No, you don’t,” he whispered. “Do not be afraid. Do not be afraid to be yourself with me. I know what you want, what you desire. I know what you need because you live inside me.” He placed his hand over his heart. “Our lives are entwined whether you wish it or not.”

Sophie placed a trembling hand on his arm. “Do you not think I know that? Do you not think I feel it too?” she cried allowing her emotions to run free. “But you must think of your responsibilities. You have not worked all these years to be saddled with a hothead. I am wild, impetuous, and untamed and would probably cause you no end of embarrassment.”

Dane gave a frustrated sigh. “Sophie, there is no woman in this world I admire and respect more than you. You were willing to sacrifice yourself for your family. What man could ask for more from a wife? What child could ask for more from a mother? He leaned forward again, this time to wipe a tear from her cheek. “I love you. I have loved you from the moment I pulled you down from your horse. I have loved parrying words with you in my study, loved the look of wonder on your face at Rockingham Pool. I particularly love your passion for secluded carriage rides.”