Sins Of A Duke Part 27

Sebastian would chew you up and spit you out as no meal at all, she thought, but smiled. "It happened very quickly," she said aloud. "More surprising than romantic, I suppose."

"But what was your secret?" Joanna persisted. "Everyone thought he would never remarry after his wife died."

"Joanna," the younger unmarried Witfeld, Anne, cut in, "that's quite enough. Aside from the silliness of asking a woman how you might pursue the man she's marrying, I would think a great deal of Princess Josefina's success came from the fact that, unlike you, she's not ridiculous."

"You're not married either, Anne!"

"I'm not asking how to pursue taken men, either. As it happens, I'm waiting for a man who considers travel to be more than a trip between Shropshire and London."

"Joanna! Anne! That's quite enough," Caroline thankfully interrupted as she reentered the room. "Your Highness, did you want to see those books we were discussing?"

Josefina stood up so quickly she nearly spilled her lemonade. "I would love to."

Joanna shot to her feet, as well. "I'll a.s.sist you, Your Highness."

d.a.m.nation. "Oh, the-"

"What you will do, Joanna, is give Princess Josefina a few minutes to breathe before you rattle her ears off. She came here for some peace. Stay here, for goodness' sake."

With a last stern look at her sister, Caroline led Josefina down a hallway and into a large, open room jumbled with books and comfortable-looking overstuffed furniture.

"Thank you for fetching me from Branbury House, Caroline," Josefina said in a low voice as soon as they were alone. "I have some urgent news for Sebastian. If I tell you, will you pa.s.s it to him without delay?"

Caroline's gaze refocused somewhere past Josefina's shoulder. "I believe I can manage that, yes," she said, and backed out the door, closing it behind her.

The hair along Josefina's arms lifted, and she turned around. "Sebastian?"

"Caroline informed me that you'd invited yourself to luncheon," he said, not moving from where he leaned against the wall between the tall windows. "She reckoned you might want to speak with me."

"Oh, thank goodness," she breathed, striding up to him and tangling her fingers into his hair. She pulled his face down for a fierce kiss.

Sebstian slid warm hands around her waist, strong and possessive. His return kiss simply curled her toes, loosened the knots of tension in her shoulders, and created all new tensions elsewhere-tensions that also required his attention.

"So you did want to see me," he drawled, running a thumb across her lips.

She shook herself. "Yes. I'm so glad she told you what I'd done."

The way she'd...melted once she'd realized he was there-that was the other thing only he seemed to rouse in her. A complete and utter distraction. Under the circ.u.mstances it troubled her, both because she needed all of her wits, and because it made her wish to conjure all sorts of fantastical scenarios in which she and he could end up together. Fantasy, fairy-tale endings only happened for real princesses, and she was certainly not one of those.

"Are you in danger?" he asked, his fine brow lowering. "I won't allow you to return to Branbury House if there's any chance-"

"No," she interrupted, wishing she could tell whether he was concerned as a gentleman or as a man, "I'm not in danger. My father would never do anything to injure me."

"He did try to have me killed."

"You're not his daughter. And you may still be in danger."

"How so?"

"He knows you intend to tie up the stolen funds he gives you for investment. He won't hand them over to you."

Sebastian looked at her for a moment, then slowly walked to one of the chairs beneath the windows and seated himself. "d.a.m.nation," he muttered. "I thought I was being too direct, but I see only a limited number of ways to stop him without incriminating you."

Josefina's heart thudded. "I've been thinking about that," she said, moving to perch on the edge of the chair opposite him. "I'm certainly not innocent in this." She clenched her fist into her thigh. "And even without this...as you said, I'm not an angel."

When she looked up again, his gaze was not on her face, but on her hands. "So you wish me to see the lot of you thrown into prison? Or worse?"

"Of course I don't wish it; I'm not Joan of Arc. But I do understand the part I've played. If stopping him requires incriminating me, then-"

"No."

"Sebastian, you can't meld reality to fit your preferred fiction any more than my father can. And you know what his plan will be-invent some plausible reason he has to delay in giving you any funds until he's forced us to marry. And then your fortune, literally and figuratively, will be tied to his."

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. "I don't believe in losing," he finally ground out.

"Neither does my father. I know when we discussed this last night I thought the chance of a quick, profitable return on his so-called investment would be more than he could resist. But what I didn't tell you was that I spent two hours before you...joined me, rereading his letters. All of them."

"And?" he prompted.

"And I think he's always...I'm not certain how to say it." She took a breath. "He's always wanted to be someone important. First to be a valuable member of Wellington's staff, and when that failed, to be a valuable part of Bolivar's struggle against Spain. But he was a foreigner in South America, and he wasn't ever really accepted by Bolivar and his generals. The little schemes of ours provided him with blunt, but not with power. So then he came up with Costa Habichuela, where he could be a king. There's nothing greater than that, I suppose. Not where he's concerned. I went along with it, like I've always done, because I enjoy living comfortably."

"I understand his reasoning. And yours."

"No, I don't think you can. You were born to be the Duke of Melbourne. You've never stood at one side of the room and envied the power and privilege of someone else." She cleared her throat, willing her voice to remain steady and the tears pushing behind her eyes to go away. She certainly didn't need them now. "When you strip your dreams away, you're still Melbourne. Without his dreams, my father is a failed military officer who wouldn't serve in his own country's army when he didn't get his way. And I'm his daughter."

There. She'd said it as plainly as she could. Her father was common, and she was common.

"So to clarify," he said in his low, cultured voice, "you're not worthy of my protection or of my affection."

Josefina closed her eyes, hoping he couldn't see how much it hurt to hear him agree with her a.s.sessment of the circ.u.mstances. "Precisely," she whispered.

"Do I strike you as being cruel or deceitful?" he asked abruptly.

As she opened her eyes again he rose, stepping forward to kneel in front of her, his hands covering her clenched ones. "No, you do not," she returned.

"That's interesting, as on occasion my siblings have accused me of being both." He scowled briefly. "There's been a Griffin-or a Grifa.n.u.s, rather-in England since the time of the Romans. My ancestors were among the first to be elevated to the n.o.bility, and one of my forbears was, legend has it, the reason that the t.i.tle of duke came into existence here. My point being, I suppose, that my family has a knack for doing the right thing at the right time, and for profiting from that bit of good fortune."

It was the most cynical she'd heard him be about his own family, and himself. Distracting as it was having him at her feet and touching her, the admission surprised her. "Sebastian, you don't have to make an excuse for doing the right thing. You're a good man; that is what good men do."

"You misunderstand me, Josefina. I know what I want to do, and that is what I intend to do. If it's the wrong thing, then so be it; I find that I'm willing to trade on the pristine reputation of my forefathers on this one occasion."

"But you can't let my father order those ships to sail," she protested.

His lips curved upward. "That's not exactly what I was referring to, but you're correct."

"Then what were you referring to?" She frowned down at him. "For heaven's sake, I'm surrounded by people who talk circles around the truth. Don't be an-"

"I want to marry you."

Chapter 20.

J osefina stared at him, her exquisite brown eyes wide and stunned. If he'd needed any proof that she hadn't manipulated circ.u.mstances to trick or trap him into a wedding, the expression on her face provided it clearly enough.

Sebastian waited another half minute, reluctant amus.e.m.e.nt warring with growing annoyance. For G.o.d's sake, every other female in London would be in raptures if he proposed to them. "You did hear me, I a.s.sume," he finally muttered, lifting an eyebrow.

"I heard you. I just don't know what to say."

"Ah." Releasing her hands, he pushed to his feet. "If you're looking for the greatest advantage to yourself, it lies in saying yes. If you're looking for a trap or a condition, there is none."

As he walked to the window, determined not to let her see that he felt far less composed than he pretended, he heard her rise. He half-expected her to slip out the door, and jumped when her hand touched his arm. He turned around.

"So you've made up your-"

Josefina kicked him in the shin. Hard.

"Ow, d.a.m.n it all," he snapped, refusing to bend down and rub his injured limb. He didn't want her to aim a follow-up blow to his head.

"I did not come here to be proposed to," she said, folding her arms over her pert b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

"If you're attempting to shield your bosom from me, I've already tasted its delights," he countered. "Why the devil are you angry with me? Even if you don't care for me, I did just essentially offer to save your life."

"It took me a long time to decide to take a stand against my father," she retorted, her color rising further as his gaze dropped again to her chest, "when all he's ever wanted is what's best for me."

"Deciding you should be a princess of a make-believe country was not the wisest way to go about that." He knew he sounded cynical, but she had just cracked him in the knee.

"No, it wasn't. But regardless of his methods, my coming here means that I've betrayed him. And then you say you want to marry me, and now it feels as though I'm being...rewarded for siding against my father."

Rewarded. That sounded more promising than a kick in the leg. Sebastian allowed himself a second to dwell on that. "You are an uncommon woman, Josefina," he said, choosing his words deliberately. "And you're correct; I should have kept my attention on the larger issue. I withdraw my proposal."

"You-" She snapped her mouth closed. "Very well."

He hid the abrupt urge to smile. "Our task is to keep those ships from leaving. Since I won't be able to withhold his stolen money to convince him to do so, our options are limited."

"You need to have us arrested," she stated, her voice shaking.

"That is my very last choice."

"Well, unless you can alter the winds and blow the ships back to England when they sail, I don't see any other choice."

Alter the winds. She'd done so in the prospectus. But something in the way she said it this time gave him the inkling of an idea. Alter the winds.

"I need to get back to the others," she said into the silence. "What are we going to do?"

He looked at her. "This afternoon I'm going to sign all of the agreements, and be frustrated when your father won't hand over any funds for investment."

"But the agreements obligate you to marry me. And to give him ten thousand pounds. Annually."

"I know you rejected my proposal, my dear, but-"

"I did not," she countered indignantly. "I rejected having you propose when we have more pressing matters to deal with."

"I'll keep that in mind, then." She did want to marry him. His heart sped. "When you announced to the world that we were to be married, you essentially made it so. Signing a piece of paper is a mere formality." Taking her chin in his fingers, he tilted her face up and kissed her softly. "As for the rest," he murmured, "you'll have to trust me until I can speak with my family and put a few details into the equation."

"I'm not accustomed to trusting people, Sebastian." She kissed him back, sighing against his mouth in a way that threatened to steal not just his breath, but his soul. "But I trust you."

He took her arm and walked her to the library door.

"I mean to propose to you again, Josefina," he whispered. "And the next time you'd best not kick me."

"I've recently stopped making promises," she said unsteadily. "At least ones I can't keep."

"You did what?" Shay demanded, rising to his feet and anger obscuring the weariness in his face.

"I signed the agreements," Sebastian said again, filling his gla.s.s with port and resuming his seat by the Griffin House drawing room hearth. "If you're going to have me repeat everything I say, this is going to be a very long night. And Mr. Rice-Able looks as though he could use some sleep."

The explorer-c.u.m-professor actually looked more stunned than tired, but Sebastian could certainly understand why. From what Shay had said, he'd practically dragged the poor man out of his cla.s.sroom at Eton.

"Forgive us if we're lagging behind," Eleanor put in, "but I thought the goal was to separate yourself from the Embrys, not to become further entangled with them."

"I have to agree, Melbourne," Valentine added. "When you go to Prinny with this, telling him you've signed up to marry the chit stabs you a bit in your own foot, don't you think?"

"P...Prinny?" Rice-Able squeaked.

"I'm not going to Prinny," Sebastian countered, hoping the professor would refrain from fainting.

"You'll need to inform him before you call in Bow Street."

"I'm not calling in Bow Street either, Zach."

"What's up your sleeve then, Melbourne?" Valentine put an arm across his wife's shoulders when it looked as though Eleanor wanted to jump off the settee and strangle her oldest brother.

"I'm going to perpetrate a fraud of my own," Sebastian said, taking a breath. "And I would appreciate if you would help me do it. All of you."

"Count me in," Valentine said immediately.

The others, though, his siblings especially, didn't look nearly as amenable. He couldn't fault them for hesitating, either. Since he'd been seventeen and inherited the dukedom and the responsibility for raising his sister and two brothers, he'd been handing down proclamations about the proper way to behave and what Griffins did and did not do.

"You?" Shay muttered. "You are going to go against...You're Melbourne. You can't."

"I have to do this because I'm Melbourne. But more because I'm also Sebastian Griffin. I need to do it this way." He cleared his throat. "You've all said you hoped that someday my...methods would come back to haunt me. Perhaps they have. Now please let me know whether you'll a.s.sist me or not."