The Seduction of Sebastian St. James(19)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

Emma turned to him. “You were going to ask me something tonight.”

“Was I?”

Emma gave a weak smile. “You’re being kind by avoiding the subject, but I’m ready to share some of what has been plaguing me.”

“Emma.” Sebastian set his glass down and leaned in. “It is none of my business. If it pains you, I only wish to know so I can help alleviate the hurt and share the burden. But do not tell me if it will make everything worse for you. I do not desire to be another reason for your pain.”

Splendid speech for only having used half his head. The other half was too busy thinking ungodly things.

Turning her face once more to the fire, she closed her eyes. Had he never seen true beauty before? The shots of red in her hair seemed to glow. It was nothing more than a terrible tease to see only part of her body exposed. It was actually worse than her being unclothed, because at least then he wouldn’t be imagining what the rest of her looked like. But now, his eyes greedily scanned the expanse of skin below her neck. The illusion of her body made him believe in its supple softness.

“Then it’s settled, isn’t it?” Emma pushed away from the chair and approached him.

His throat went dry as his eyes greedily took in her illuminated form. “What’s that?” he inquired, taking another long gulp of wine then setting the goblet on the table next to him. Sebastian folded his hands and leaned forward as she stopped right in front of him.

Waves of heat brought on by her exposure to the hot fire billowed toward him in a combined scent of jasmine and burning wood. Clenching his teeth, he managed a grin.

“Both of us are too stubborn to back down. I can see by the look in your eyes you want to help, but Sebastian, my past with Rawlings is…complicated, to say the least. It wouldn’t bode well for you to get involved. You do have your reputation to think about.”

“My reputation?” he repeated. “Your past has nothing to do with my reputation, and even if it did, my dear girl, you forget, this is all a ruse.” Even as he said it, his body screamed in protest. He wanted Emma, every part of her. It seemed the only person who refused to believe the lie was the one who had created it in the first place.

Emma tilted her head to the side. “A ruse.”

“Exactly.”

“So, my sly fox, you aren’t the least bit interested in what I have to offer?”

“Offer,” Sebastian stuttered then adjusted his cravat. “You are a little minx, aren’t you? What game are you playing at?” Not that he was, by any means, complaining. Her shoulder was still exposed to fresh air giving him the intense desire to reach out and stroke the white skin.

“My services, of course.”

Sebastian lost all ability to speak.

Emma obviously had not. Leaning down, she brushed a kiss across his cheek. A low moan escaped him, embarrassing him to the tips of his ears. What duke allowed himself to be seduced by a mere peck on the cheek?

This one.

Emma bit her deliciously ripe lower lip and winked. “You did ask that I help you pick out a suitable bride, did you not?”

Blast, blast, blast!

He cleared his throat. “Of course, so those would be…the services you are, ahem, referring to, naturally.”

Spoken with the grace of Byron himself.

Disgusted, Sebastian met Emma’s twinkling eyes one last time.

Her face was merely a breath away from his. Licking her lips, she replied, “Your grace, you’ll just have to find out for yourself.” Slowly, she curtsied and bid him goodnight.

As the door shut quietly behind her, he let out the breath he had no idea he’d been holding. Unfortunately a good night was to be impossible, since his mind was already working on all of the activities one could do in the dark. How in the devil was he supposed to sleep with his body still painfully aware that a beautiful woman had just been in his bedroom? Lucky for them the rooms were adjoining, so nobody would know. But what exactly had been her purpose in coming to his rooms so late? If it was to torture him, she did a splendid job, leaving only thoughts of her soft body pressed up against his in his all too vivid imagination.

He knew sleep would not come, so he dedicated the next few hours to exactly what he had come to the house party for. Not for Emma, but for a wife, to bring honor to his family, and finally redemption to himself.

Chapter Seventeen

Emma’s heart threatened to beat straight out of her chest as her feet calmly took her back to her rooms. The last time she had felt this alive, she had been dancing. The memory seemed less painful than before. Maybe taking a chance with Sebastian was what she needed. A fresh start.

It would be possible if Rawlings weren’t so closely involved.

She had made the choice to visit Sebastian’s rooms out of sheer determination. Once she had been excused to her rooms, she sat for at least a half hour contemplating how she was to seduce Sebastian without anyone finding out, especially the object of her seduction. The thing was, she had no idea how to go about it. All she had been promised was this one week, and then, he would be married and the ruse could not, no, would not continue.

Desperation made her enter his room.

Passion made her strong, and determination made her immovable in her decision to experience the joy of being with someone as good as the duke just once in her life.

Naturally, she would have to conduct her decision without the watchful eyes of the gentry pouring into Rawlings’ estate over the next day. Surely it was safe for her to visit Sebastian at night, to talk with him. It was not lost on her how tightly wound she had made him. More than once the man shifted in his seat and over-indulged with the wine.

They affected one another. Yes, it was unfair they could not be together, that her scandal would keep them apart.

But for the week, he was hers.

As she lay her head down on her pillow, she smiled, a real smile, for the first time in years. Dreaming of all the ways she would seduce Sebastian St. James, refusing to remember that after the seduction came loss, and after the loss, a life forever watching the Duke of Tempest being seduced by his wife.

****

Emma awoke the next day refreshed. The men were to go on a hunt while the women had a casual ride and picnic. She donned her smartest looking riding habit. Dark green outlined with heavy black velvet fit her perfectly, albeit considerably tighter than she remembered it. The desired effect would be reached. Although low, it also showed off the generous curve of her hips, something that would peak Sebastian’s interest, she hoped.

As she made her way outside to the stables, Sebastian was waiting for her. A hungry look passed over his face. Almost as soon as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by the usual smile and twinkle in his eyes.

“Ah, my dear, I’ve decided on a mount for you.”

“Have you?” Skeptical, she looked at the horse he held. The midnight black Arabian stomped his hoof and snorted.

“This is Boxer.”

“Does he live up to his name, your grace?”

Sebastian handed her the reigns. “A more talented female rider I’ve never laid eyes on. I’ll let you be the one to make that decision, my lady.” Sebastian bowed over her hand and walked to his own horse. He paused slightly and turned to add, “And, Emma, no racing.”

“Ah, I see you’ve been busy giving away my best horses this morning.” Lord Rawlings trotted up on his own horse, smug grin still in place.

Emma wanted nothing more than to slap it off his face. Given the liberties he had already taken with her, it seemed a natural response for any woman.

“Lord Rawlings.” She curtsied then, without any help, managed to mount her horse and take off in a full gallop.

Emma laughed as the breeze whipped across her face, leaving her dizzy with exhilaration.

Out of nowhere a horse appeared on her left, Lord Rawlings riding atop it. Her first response was to ignore him and push harder, but the fact that he was keeping up with her was impressive. She slowed to a trot. Boxer neighed and kicked before finally pulling to a stop.

“You followed me.” Emma led her horse to a nearby stream.

Rawlings let out a laugh. The same laugh she remembered him using so long ago when they were friends.

“Yes, I thought it would be good to humble you a bit. Seems you’ve pulled that stunt before with the duke?”

Emma bit her lip, refusing to answer, even though a slow smile spread across her face. “In the middle of Hyde Park, to be exact.”

“And did he or did he not give you a sit down about the rules and regulations befitting a lady of your station?” Rawlings joked.

“He did.”

“Ah, he should let you be wild, Emma.”

Rawlings seemed to be purposefully making a point by using her first name. It was not at all proper.

Ignoring his presence behind her, she dismounted and set forth on the impossible task of finding a smooth stone to skip in the river.

“Do you remember when we used to go hunting through the wood over yonder?” Rawlings was standing next to her, looking toward her father’s land.

“Yes.”

“You hated being told to stay behind, always wanting to play with the boys, to race, to hunt…I wonder where that Emma has gone off to? I fervently hope one of these days she will return and start taking chances again.”

Rawlings picked up a smooth stone and threw it in her direction. “My lady,” he said, bowing. Then he mounted his horse and took off in a gallop, leaving Emma more confused than before.

Was he merely being polite or trying to conjure up images of her jaded past in order to gain her allegiance?

It was most likely a question that would not be answered by skipping stones.

Chapter Eighteen

Sebastian waited in vain for an hour, hoping to at least catch a glimpse of Emma returning from her dangerous gallop. In that time he came to the decision to finally do right by her and attempt to choose a suitor from among the arriving guests, someone who would be good enough.

Each one seemed to have something wrong with him.

Lord Rayne had a gambling problem.

Viscount Richards was missing several of his teeth.

And each of Lord Ambry’s wives had somehow met their demise while married to him.

It seemed his only hope was the last two men to join. Both were good friends of Rawlings and entirely out of the question, if Sebastian had anything to do with it. But they were the only two left, so he waited patiently for the last two guests to arrive all the while wondering if Rawlings had caught up to Emma in the woods.

Hope came in a tall figure clad with blond hair and brown eyes. Sebastian turned his head in disgust. He was a mere child!

“Lord Smythe, delighted to see you!” Belverd took the man’s hand within his own, shaking it wildly before patting him on the back and turning him toward a curious Sebastian.

“Ah, the Duke of Tempest,” Smythe said.

Stating the obvious was a trifle irritating to someone of Sebastian’s stature. He momentarily thought about punching the poor fellow on principle alone but realized the only reason would be to knock out his remaining good teeth rendering him too unfit for Emma.

Anything was better than the obvious.

Lord Smythe was the only likely candidate. The feeling didn’t settle well with Sebastian one bit, his fingers itched inside his gloves.