Sins Of A Duke Part 29

"Yes. He said that if you marry Princess Josefina, then I may be a princess if I want to, because everyone in her family can be whatever they want to be. And when you marry her, I will be part of her family!"

His amus.e.m.e.nt at Peep's conclusions vanishing as he heard the reason for it, Sebastian scarcely noted Stanton's brief appearance followed by the exit of Tom and Harry, the two footmen. "I don't believe that is precisely what your uncle meant, my dear," he said in the calmest voice he could muster.

She pinned Shay with a suspicious gaze. "Isn't it?" she demanded.

"In actuality," Sebastian cut in before his brother could make matters worse by trying to explain the fiasco logically, "I believe what Uncle Shay meant was that upon her marriage, Josefina will no longer use her honorary t.i.tle of princess. She will be known as the d.u.c.h.ess of Melbourne."

"Like Mama."

A muscle in his cheek jumped. "Yes, like Mama."

Shay pushed to his feet. "Care to take that walk now?"

He resisted the urge to clear his throat. "Yes. We'll be back in a few minutes, Peep."

"Take your time. I'm enjoying this peach. Is Uncle Zach coming by, too? Because if he is, I'm going to hide the rest of the peaches."

"No, I'm not expecting him, my sweet. Your peaches are safe." With that, Sebastian strode down the hallway and out the front door, Shay on his heels. Halfway to the stables, his brother dropped back.

"I'm not going to make this a foot race, Melbourne," he said, stopping.

Sebastian turned on his heel. "Whatever your reservations about this situation with the Embrys, you are not to discuss it with my daughter. Is that clear?"

"I don't call it a 'situation,'" Charlemagne retorted. "I call it you going stark raving mad and ordering everyone to see nothing out of the ordinary about it. You are helping to perpetuate a fraud against England, dammit."

"Only so I can end it," Sebastian muttered tightly. "What precisely about this 'situation' makes me a lunatic?"

"You need me to tell you?"

"Yes, I do."

"Fine." Shay jabbed the toe of his boot into the gravel. "Aside from the insanity of thinking you can single-handedly manage to protect everyone from a fraud of this magnitude and save the chit from harm, you've spent four years mourning Charlotte."

Irritation bit into him. "I am not going to discuss-"

"You've known this woman for less than a month," Shay interrupted. "And you expect me to believe that your sudden desire to marry her has nothing to do with the circ.u.mstances of her father and this fiasco?"

Whether that had been true at the beginning or not, it was now. "Yes."

"I see. So when did you decide she was the one to replace Charlotte?"

"She's not replacing anyone," Sebastian snapped. "Charlotte and I were cheated, and I mourn her. I will miss her for the rest of my life. I never looked for anyone else, and I certainly never expected to find anyone, but I did. The moment I set eyes on her."

"Sebast-"

"I'm not finished," he countered. "Would I be marrying her if she hadn't announced it first? I don't know. Probably not, mainly because of the reaction of people like you."

"That's a sharp knife you just stuck me with," Shay muttered, his eyes squinted against the midmorning sun. "My concern is your...heightened sense of honor, Sebastian. I don't want to see you trapped because of it."

"Actually, I feel...uncaged. Valentine says the family's racked up enough good credit that I can spend some of it if I like. And so I am." He gave a brief smile, then sobered again. "I suppose what I'm trying to say is that my heart didn't die with Charlotte, which is surprising to me, because I thought it had. And at the moment it seems to be directing the proceedings." Sebastian gazed steadily at his younger brother. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"I have reservations." Charlemagne frowned. "You didn't talk with Josefina about your plan to flood Costa Habichuela, did you?"

"No," he returned reluctantly.

"Strategy, or because you know she could still bring us down with one word of warning to the rey?"

"Strategy. I trust her." He probably shouldn't, and his belief in her was something he couldn't even articulate, but it was there, and he chose not to question it.

"Then I'll be worried enough for the both of us."

Slowly Sebastian nodded. "I'll accept that. Did you bring the letter?"

Shay pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket. "I think we covered all the points. Rice-Able's quite a hand at this, I have to say. And now he's talking about taking a sabbatical and going exploring again."

"If this works, I'll fund his expeditions for the remainder of his life. Let's take a look."

"Look!" Stephen Embry ordered, a broad smile on his face. He shoved Josefina's breakfast plate aside and tossed down a newspaper in its place.

"What am I looking at?" she asked, gazing at the headlines. Tariffs, the number of dead in the latest battle on the Peninsula, grain riots in York-none of it affected her directly. Oddly, though, it felt like it did-because it affected Sebastian.

"Page three," he said, reaching over her shoulder to turn the page when she didn't react quickly enough. He jabbed his finger at the large square on the left. "There."

"Oh." Her heart stopped and then resumed in a flurry of rapid beats.

"That's all you have to say? 'Oh'? Read it aloud. I want to hear it."

She cleared her throat. "'The Griffin family of Devonshire is pleased to announce the engagement of its patriarch, Sebastian, the Duke of Melbourne, to Josefina Embry, Royal Princess of Costa Habichuela. The lovely Josefina is the only child and heir of Stephen and Maria Embry, Rey and Queen of Costa Habichuela. The couple's engagement ball will be announced shortly.'"

"Ha, ha!" the rey laughed, s.n.a.t.c.hing the newspaper back and rereading the announcement. "I would have put in a bit more about Costa Habichuela and how we're selling plots of land, but it is nicely set off by the border and the Griffin coat of arms. Not a bit shabby."

"You didn't place the announcement?" Josefina asked, her voice not quite as even as she would have liked. Heavens, it was in print. For anyone to see.

"I would have, if it hadn't appeared today. You may have tricked Melbourne into this, but I have to say, I'm impressed. He'll make a good ally. And son-in-law."

Sebastian had placed the announcement. Of course propriety required that certain customs be observed, but propriety hadn't dictated that she be described as "the lovely" anything. Apparently he wanted the rest of London to know that this was not simply a politically or socially motivated alliance. He liked her.

And she liked him. Oh, what was she doing? Over her shoulder Grimm and one of the footmen were busily removing breakfast foods from the sideboard. "Grimm, that will be all for now, thank you."

The butler bowed. "Your Majesty, Your Highness." In a second she and her father were alone in the breakfast room.

The rey popped a grape into his mouth, his attention still on the newspaper. "Glorious. Glorious," he chuckled.

"Father-Papa-I need to ask you a question," Josefina said, keeping her voice low and mindful of his warnings about being overheard.

"What is it, my sweet?"

"As you said, Melbourne can make us a very good ally," she began, choosing her words and her tone with care. "We can be comfortable for life."

"We can and will be, you mean. I've left him no choice, and I'll never put myself in the position of being dictated to or controlled by him."

The smug superiority in his voice used to make her feel the same. Now it made her flinch. "Explain to me, then, why you have to intentionally anger him by sending off shiploads of people for whom he feels responsible. We don't need that income or that potential trouble any longer."

"I think I can decide what we do or don't need. And those shiploads of people have put sixty thousand quid into my pocket thus far. That's six years worth of Melbourne's charity."

"But he would give you more if he trusted you."

Slowly he folded the newspaper. "I've fought and scratched my entire life," he finally said. "Don't fling Melbourne in my face as some paragon of virtue. He was born into wealth and status. Do you think he's ever suffered so much as a poor night's sleep in his life?" He took a breath. "It's easy to have principles when nothing challenges them."

Actually she thought Sebastian had his share of sleepless nights, completely aside from the death of his wife. How could he not, when so many people relied on him and when he took so much of what happened to any of them so personally? She'd heard what he'd done for those people at the Abbey, feeding them and providing them with supplies to replant their blighted wheat, and they didn't even live on his land. "You're not the only one who's fought for everything you have."

"You, you mean?" He lifted an eyebrow, an imitation of what he'd seen Sebastian do. "You have no idea what-"

"Not me," she countered quickly. "I know how hard you've worked to see that I was given a privileged upbringing. I'm talking about all those people who've bought land and pa.s.sage to Costa Habichuela. Most of them just want the opportunity for a new life-like you did."

"Not like me," he returned, a sneer entering his tone. "I never trusted anything but my own wits and other peoples' greed. If those fools choose to spend their last shilling on something that sounds far too good to be true, I can only hope they aren't overly surprised when it turns out to be exactly that."

"Papa, that's awful. We only used to take money from those who could afford the loss."

"Someone's bound to take advantage of such gullibility. It might as well be me." He sat forward, taking her hand. "And you. I couldn't have done this without you, Josefina. I'm just an old soldier at heart. You, you're a lady. A lady who will become a d.u.c.h.ess in less than a month."

A tremble ran up her arms. She and Sebastian, together until death did them part. Rapture. Heaven and h.e.l.l at the same time-the thought of them together was what made it so difficult to stand against her father. If she simply went along with his plan, she would gain precisely what she'd come to want most in the world.

"Tell me this, then," she forced herself to continue. "Eventually some kind of word will get back from Costa Habichuela that it's not a paradise, that it's not even habitable. Are we here in England when this happens? Because Melbourne is England, and I can't see him fleeing to reside in the Americas somewhere. He will anchor us here."

"Not if he's dead."

All of the blood left her face. "What?" she gasped, shooting to her feet.

He gave a laugh that sounded forced. "I'm just bamming you, darling. Of course Melbourne will travel with us, because it will be in his best interest to do so. After all, once the Embrys and the Griffins are united, our fate becomes his."

Josefina still couldn't breathe. For G.o.d's sake, he'd nearly killed Sebastian once for threatening to expose the fraud. She thought the marriage announcement had saved the duke, but apparently he'd only been granted a stay of execution. If Sebastian died-and her throat closed to think of it-she would still keep the t.i.tle of d.u.c.h.ess of Melbourne. That might even work better for her father's schemes than having a troublesome and influential son-in-law about. Good G.o.d. That had probably been his original plan, from the moment he'd asked Prinny to introduce them to Melbourne.

"Josefina?"

She blinked, forcing air into her lungs. "You are not a killer," she whispered.

He shrugged. "I've killed in the name of half a dozen countries and causes. If it came to choosing between my family and Melbourne, my duty falls to protecting my family."

"No." Slowly she backed away from the table. "I am grateful for all that you've given me, but once I marry Sebastian, we part company. I don't wish to be involved with this fraud any longer."

The rey stood, his expression hardening and his hands clenching. "You're an Embry, my dear. When people find out about Costa Habichuela, as you've a.s.sumed they will, do you think that being the d.u.c.h.ess of Melbourne will protect you? That you can sit in your grand house and escape all the talk and accusations? You're part of this for as long as I say you are. And Melbourne is, as well, until I decide he's not." Abruptly his face relaxed and he smiled again, the charming rey everyone wanted to invite into their homes. "Go change into something appropriate for a carriage ride. We're going to take a turn about Hyde Park in Branbury's barouche. I want the bride-to-be seen."

Josefina fled the breakfast room, hurried up the stairs, and ran to her bedchamber. With the sound of her slammed door still echoing, she bent over her wash basin and vomited up her breakfast.

"What have I done?" she muttered, sinking to the floor. Tears ran down her face and splashed onto her arms.

If Sebastian hadn't tempted her so, if Harek had been the one to stay about, she might have been able to do it. She might have been able to remain the woman who was only after what she thought she deserved. And Harek probably would have gone along with it, so long as he could live comfortably and shoot animals every so often.

But she wasn't that woman any longer. She didn't particularly like that woman. She liked the one she'd become since she'd kissed Sebastian, since she'd met someone who clearly valued her for who she was rather than what advantage she might bring him. And that had to be true, because being a.s.sociated with her was to Sebastian's dis- advantage in every way she could imagine.

And she was still so, so selfish, because she wanted him anyway. A sob broke from her chest, followed by another, and another. She curled up on the floor of her borrowed bedchamber and wept.

Whichever way she turned, she would bring Sebastian derision and ruin, and even death. If she called off the wedding there would be a huge scandal, and her father would have no reason to think that Sebastian would keep his silence about what he knew. If she married him, he would be forced into a life of fraud and deception, which would destroy him, or he would refuse to cooperate-and her father would kill him.

"Your Highness?" Conchita's voice came from the doorway as the door quietly closed behind her. "What's happened? Are you ill? Your Highness? Miss Josefina? What's wrong?" The maid knelt beside her.

Josefina lifted her head. "Conchita, please don't say anything about this," she managed, struggling to sit up. "I'm just...just overwhelmed."

"Of course you are. An engagement to a duke, a wedding, the people all wanting a send-off from their beloved princess before they sail to Costa Habichuela, all of the b.a.l.l.s and parties spent getting support for your papa-this is a success because of you, Your Highness. The weight on your shoulders would crush most men, I think."

"Yes, yes, that's it," Josefina stammered, letting the servant help her to her feet. "Please say nothing; I don't want to worry my mother and father."

"I won't say a word. Let's get you pretty again for your drive."

"Yes," Josefina repeated absently, her mind beginning to race. Conchita was correct; she was the keystone to this plan of her father's. Remove the keystone and there would be no union between the Embrys and the Griffins. Sebastian knew to be wary of her father now, and if she simply...vanished rather than declaring that she wouldn't marry him, people might speculate, but it would be about her and not about him.

It could work. It would work. So she would go driving with her father as he planned, and then tomorrow she would be gone. Without the keystone, the building could collapse, and the bricks fall where they would. She would be miserable, but she deserved nothing less. And the Duke of Melbourne would be free to do whatever he needed to stop this disaster from happening.

Chapter 22.

"D o you have any idea what time it is?" Valentine, the Marquis of Deverill, grunted as he half-stumbled down his stairs.

"Seven o'clock," Sebastian returned with a brief grin. "In the morning."

"And people used to say I was the devil himself. They had it wrong, obviously, because only Beelzebub would pull a contented husband and father out of his nice, warm bed at this b.l.o.o.d.y hour of the morning."

The Corbett House butler pulled open the front door as Valentine, still complaining about being forced to rise, reached the foyer. Sebastian waited, arms folded, while Valentine pulled on his greatcoat and gloves. Excitement and antic.i.p.ation ran just beneath his skin, but he refused to pace. Whether he could remember the last time he'd felt...hope-not just for his daughter or his family, but for himself-or not, he had no intention of kicking up his heels and laughing. It wasn't dignified.

"I'll return Lord Deverill to the house in an hour or so, Hobbes," he said, gesturing Valentine to lead the way outside, mostly because he wasn't certain the marquis would follow if given a choice.

"Very good, Your Grace." With a quickly stifled smile the butler closed the front door on them.

Green stood in the drive, holding the reins of his own horse as well as those of Merlin and Iago. "Good morning for a ride, my lord," he said, nodding at Deverill.

"b.a.s.t.a.r.d," Valentine muttered. "Where the devil are we going?"

"For a ride. The morning air always helps me clear my head."

"It will probably kill me," his friend noted dourly. "You do this every morning?" he continued dubiously, as he swung up on his bad-tempered bay.