Sebastian dug into a different pocket and then handed the velvet pouch that held the ring across the distance between their horses.
Taking it, George removed the heirloom carefully and held it up to the light. “Once I slide this onto her finger, she’ll not wish to take it off.” But George didn’t appear completely confident. Perhaps he did love Lady Asherton, after all.
George returned the ring to its pouch and then pocketed it before turning once again to gaze out at the unbroken view. “I find myself inclined to curtail a few of my less than gentlemanly activities these days. Believe it or not, young man, satisfying a variety of women eventually becomes tiresome.” He slanted Sebastian a sideways glance. “And quite costly.”
“I’d venture it’s the sneaking around that becomes tiresome, more so than the end goal,” Sebastian offered. He had never had to pay for a woman. They sought Sebastian out. He bought them gifts, of course, but only as a token of his appreciation.
What pleasure could be found knowing the woman did not wish to be the object of his lovemaking? “Married life ought to come in handy then.”
His uncle frowned. “Perhaps.” But then he lifted his chin. “It behooves a man to preserve an unsullied reputation, Rockingham. One never knows when his circumstances might turn.”
Sebastian stared across the sea. It was only slightly less blue than the sky. Was his uncle suggesting that Sebastian ought to keep his own activities less public? As the heir to a duke, Sebastian’s entitlement was unimaginable to most mortals—even to his uncle. The world would have to be turned upside down for that to change. He glanced at his uncle’s profile. Discretion was one thing, hypocrisy quite another. But for now, he would forgo arguing the point.
“Your Lady Asherton, she is a very… proper lady, then?” The woman from last night could not be her.
“Indeed. She’ll make for a biddable wife. In addition to that, she is lovely, dignified, childless.” Ah, no baggage to cause George any inconvenient demands. “She accepted my offer two days ago, unofficially. I am anxious to make an announcement.”
If his uncle didn’t love the woman, then why? “You are wanting to set up your nursery then?” Perhaps his uncle wanted an heir—a son who would carry his name into the future. Although technically not a lord, George’s inherited estate was not insignificant.
The older man shrugged. “It isn’t necessary. Her first husband passed without issue. I’m not overly concerned with such. As I said, I’ll be satisfied to have her… companionship.”
“And to warm your bed on cold winter nights, eh?” Sebastian made one more attempt to satisfy his curiosity piqued by the woman the night before.
“Foolishness.” He sent Sebastian a stern look. “A refined gentleman doesn’t marry for such purposes. He marries a woman who’ll uphold his good name in society. You’ll do good to remember that when you marry again.”
Sebastian clenched his jaw. This was the one matter he would thwart his family on.
He had no intention of marrying anytime soon or even long into the future.
An onslaught of sunlight filtered through Margaret’s consciousness, bringing her wide awake. When she opened her eyes, she found herself staring directly into her sister-in-law’s apologetic green ones.
“You!” Margaret accused without bothering with any niceties.
Penelope winced. “If it makes any difference to you at all, I’ve brought your chocolate myself. And fresh biscuits.”
Margaret rubbed the sleep from her eyes and then pushed herself up to sit against the pillows. Hours had passed before sleep came the night before. “You sent me to the wrong room!” she accused. The memory sent heat flooding up her neck.
“Tell me you discovered this before…”
“Of course, I did,” Margaret claimed emphatically. “I’m not stupid enough to climb into bed with a man who was not my intended.” Oh, but she had been that stupid!
“It was his nephew. I didn’t even know he was coming until Mrs. Maples informed me this morning of his arrival late last night. Apparently, Mr. Kirkley preferred the room set aside for his lordship, and the young marquess gave it up and took his uncle’s instead.”
An honest mistake. Penelope could not help it if her guests played fast and loose with the rooms assigned them.
“His Lordship?” A marquess? But of course, George’s sister was married to the Duke of Standish.
Margaret squeezed her eyes together in an attempt to wash her memory of the previous night. It would be even better if she could turn back time. Margaret should not have allowed Penelope to encourage her thusly.
George’s nephew!
“When I sent the invitation, I never contemplated he’d actually attend. Every unmarried lady beneath this roof, not to mention their mothers, will be in raptures when they discover that the heir to the Duke of Standish is a guest. It’ll make for some interesting antics, for sure.”
Such antics couldn’t get much more interesting than they had been last night.
“He’s unattached, then?” Margaret cringed at what she’d done… at what she’d nearly done. George must never know!
Penelope nodded. “I caught sight of him as he left the for the stables. A handsome pup, if I say so myself. But of course, he’s a notorious rake—and young. I imagine he’s barely past his majority.”
One and twenty! Margaret’s vision swam for a moment.
She’d nearly seduced a boy! A mere child!
Although he certainly hadn’t had the body of a child—or made love like one. Margaret suppressed the urge to bury her face in the bed and give into a fit of moaning yet again.
“How did you discover that it wasn’t Mr. Kirkley in the bed? The room would have been very dark when you entered, those drapes are heavy. What a scandal that would have been! Did you wake him when you entered?”
Penelope could never know what she’d done—what she’d nearly done. “Er… The drapes were drawn. Moonlight. Er… illuminated the bed. I knew it wasn’t him immediately. Once I returned to my room, I took it as a sign that I must go about all of this another way. I will ask Mr. Kirkley directly. I’ll speak to him privately soon.”
“Can you imagine if those drapes had been pulled shut?” Penelope grinned wickedly. “I could tell if it was Hugh easily; a woman knows such things. But you have never been with Mr. Kirkley. The two gentlemen are not very different in appearance, superficially, of course.” She scrunched her nose thoughtfully. “I suppose the marquess is slimmer. Your Mr. Kirkley cannot be expected to have the physique of such a young man.”
Margaret had realized all of this after climbing back into her own bed. His skin had been silky smooth, the hair on his body soft. Yes, a woman knew such things.
I should have known!
“You could always try again tonight. Now that I can direct you to the proper chamber—”
Margaret held up her hand. “Absolutely not. We will not speak of it again.” Penelope needed to know when to leave something be.
“But—“
“Absolutely not, Penelope.”