As he dipped his head toward hers, Laura turned the doorknob and backed into her bedroom, eluding his kiss. “Good night.” Her eyes laughed at him as she closed the door.
Sebastian remained where he was, and waited. In mere seconds the door was jerked open, and a stunned Laura faced him. “The portrait,” she began and threw a quick glance at the painting propped on a chair in her bedroom, as if to confirm it was still there. “How . . . When . . . ?”
It was the first time he’d known her to be at a loss for words. “I didn’t spend the entire time after dinner on the phone with Helen.”
“But . . . why?” Confusion clouded her expression, along with a certain wariness.
“I should think it’s obvious; I wanted you to have it,” Sebastian replied easily. “After all, Lady Elaine was never an ancestor of mine, while it seems quite likely that you are related to her.”
Turning, Laura moved out of the doorway and walked back to the chair with the painting. “But it’s always hung in Crawford Hall.”
Sebastian let his hand fall from the doorjamb and wandered into the room behind her. “It would have ultimately fallen to the gavel, as Crawford Hall will, along with the bulk of its contents. Rather than have that happen, I prefer to give it to you as a memento of your visit to England.”
“You said it had little value. Surely you could have kept it.” Her gaze studied him, alert to any change in his expression, no matter how small or brief.
“I have no need for a portrait to remind me of you.” A wry smile curved his mouth. “Forgive me for sounding maudlin, but you have haunted my mind since the day you left Crawford Hall. It came as a bit of a start to realize that I had fallen in love with you.”
Amused, Laura cocked her head. “You don’t really expect me to believe that, do you?”
Sebastian chuckled. “Ever the skeptic, aren’t you? I would have an easier time of it if your name was Smith or Brown and your bank balance no better than mine. Ironic, isn’t it? Initially I pursued you for your wealth, and now I wish you didn’t possess it.”
“You are a smooth one, Sebastian.” There was a trace of admiration in her chiding tone.
“Naturally. That’s why you find me so irresistible. In fact, I suspect you’re more than a little in love with me right now.” Standing less than an arm’s length from her, he raised his hand and traced the curve of her cheek with his fingertips. Her skin tingled from the featherlight contact.
“Maybe a little,” Laura conceded, honest with herself and him. “You are always so full of surprises. But I am not about to marry you.”
“Boone is a much safer matrimonial choice, isn’t he? He has money, while I am a . . . poor risk, shall we say?” Sebastian remarked, eyes twinkling.
She laughed. “An extremely poor risk.”
“But our life together would never be dull. I doubt the same could be said of a life with Boone.”
“Just the same, he suits me.”
“Not as well as I do,” Sebastian countered, then paused. “I have a proposition for you.”
“I can hardly wait to hear this,” Laura mocked.
“Return his ring, marry me, and keep your money.”
His words brought a little surge of hope, but Laura quickly saw through them. “How very clever.”
“Clever?” One eyebrow arched in silent inquiry at her choice of adjectives. “I thought it was very simple and straightforward.”
“But if I keep the money, you’ll lose Crawford Hall. Then where would we live?” Laura challenged.
“I have a small flat in London.”
She shook her head. “That wouldn’t do at all. I’d want to live in something big and grand . . .” The pause was deliberate. “Something like Crawford Hall. And if I’m buying a large estate, why not the family manor? It would be logical to own the place that goes with title. And you’re counting on that, aren’t you?”
There was a flicker of annoyance in his expression. “Clearly your mind is much more devious than mine.” His mouth had a slightly grim set to it that seemed to match the new, cool amusement in his eyes. “Enjoy the portrait, Laura. At least I’ll have the consolation of knowing that every time you look at it, you’ll think of me and wonder.”
He made a leisurely turn and walked out of the room, pulling the door closed behind him. Laura stood there, certain she hadn’t been wrong in her assessment. His leaving was merely an attempt to plant some doubt in her mind. And yet . . .
She looked at the painting and wondered.
Chapter Sixteen
T
he first rays of sunrise poured through the bedroom window. Conscious of the glare of it against his eyelids, Sebastian turned over and punched the pillow under him, bolstering its thickness. The muffled sound of footsteps came from the hallway, signaling he wasn’t the only one in this house of early risers who was awake. For a moment he lay there, listening to the quick tattoo of the footsteps descending the stairs.
Giving up any thought that he might go back to sleep, he threw back the covers and rolled out of bed. After a quick trip to the bathroom, he padded over to the closet, briefly surveyed the clothes on hangers, and picked up the suitcase on the closet floor. He placed it on the bed and flipped it open, then walked to the chest of drawers.
More footsteps moved along the hall and stopped at his door. A knuckle rapped twice against it, and the latch clicked as the door swung open.
Trey poked his head into the room. “I thought I heard you moving around in here. We’re moving cattle this morning. I thought I’d see if you wanted to—” He broke off in mid-sentence the instant he noticed the suitcase lying open on the bed. “You aren’t thinking of leaving just when things are about to heat up, are you?” There was something of a challenge in his question.
Sebastian paused, sending him a curious look. “I beg your pardon.”
“We’re going to have company tonight,” Trey told him. “Crockett’s flying in. I have the feeling a little blackbird called Tara might have told him you were here.”
“In that case, it might be better for all concerned if I leave.”
“It might.” Trey stepped into the room and leaned his tall shape against the doorframe, loosely folding his arms in front of him. “Personally, though, I’m hoping he’ll screw up. That isn’t likely to happen if you’re gone.”
“Are you hoping we’ll get into a physical fight over your sister’s hand?” Sebastian mocked lightly.
“Knowing Laura, she’d like that. No, it’ll be enough if you just get under his skin.” Trey pushed away from the door and walked to the bed. “If he’s the bastard I think he is, he’ll take care of the rest himself. It’s for sure you won’t be needing this.” He closed the suitcase, checked to make sure it was securely latched, and carried it to the closet. After a scan of the clothes hanging up, he turned. “If you’re going with me, you’d better put on those jeans you wore yesterday. If you wear any of those,” he jerked a thumb in the direction of the closet, “you’re likely to scare the cattle.”
“You are making the assumption that I’m staying,” Sebastian observed dryly.
Trey paused with one hand on the doorknob. There was something about the calm steadiness of his gaze that reminded Sebastian of the elder Calder. “Aren’t you?”
The lazy challenge made Sebastian smile. “It would seem so.” He pushed the drawer shut and walked over to retrieve the Levis.
“We’ll pull out as soon as you come down,” Trey informed him. “I’ve got a thermos of coffee in the truck, and I’ll have Allie throw a breakfast sandwich together for you.”
Sebastian spared a glance at the dawn blush outside his window. “Tell me, is it tradition that a cowboy must be in the saddle before the sun is up.”
“You could call it that, I suppose,” Trey again. “But for something to become a tradition out here, there’s always a good reason for it. In this case, when you’re moving a herd of cows from one pasture to another, it’s easier to make the gather early, before the calves nurse and cows scatter to graze. This way you have a better chance of arriving with your herd intact. See you downstairs.” With that he exited the room, leaving Sebastian to dress.
Laura didn’t get out of bed until nearly eleven o’clock. It was closer to eleven-thirty when she came downstairs. After a cup of coffee and a slice of toast, she placed a call to Boone, only to be informed by the Mexican housekeeper that neither Senor Max nor Senor Boone was in.
With Sebastian off somewhere with Trey, Laura opted to visit her Aunt Cat Echohawk rather than while away the afternoon at The Homestead by herself. Between catching up on the latest news about Quint and discussing possible wedding plans, it was four o’clock before she set off to make the hour-long drive back to the Triple C.
When she pulled into the ranch yard, Laura spotted Sebastian and Trey walking up the incline to The Homestead. She honked the horn as she drove by them, then parked near the base of the veranda steps and climbed out to wait for them. A smile curved her mouth when she noticed both the telltale red of a sunburn and the stiff way Sebastian was walking.
“You seem to be moving a little gingerly, Sebastian. Have a few sore muscles, do you?” Laura teased.
“More than a few, I suspect,” he admitted with an airy honesty. “This is the first time I have spent an entire day astride a horse.”
“Poor man. Too bad Grizwold isn’t here to draw you a hot bath so you can soak away some of that soreness.”
“There is much to recommend the comforts of Crawford Hall,” Sebastian declared on an exaggeratedly wistful note.
The front door opened behind Laura, but she was too accustomed to the comings and goings of people at The Homestead to pay any attention to it. “I guess you’ll have to settle for a hot shower,” she told Sebastian. “But you’re going to need some lotion for that sunburn.”
As she turned to climb the steps, her gaze lifted. Surprise brought her to a complete stop when she saw Boone standing at the top, a dark impatience glittering in his eyes and a hint of grimness around his mouth.
Recovering from that initial shock, she glided up the steps and into his arms, all smiles. “Boone, darling. When you did you get here?”
“About an hour ago.” His hands gripped her upper arms, his look softening when he met her upturned gaze. Then it hardened once more when his glance flicked past her to Sebastian.
“Why didn’t you call and let me know you were coming?” The protest was nothing more than a ploy to reclaim his attention. “Not that it matters. I’m just glad you’re here.”
“It’s my fault, Sis,” Trey spoke. “Boone called last night to say he was flying in this afternoon. I took off this morning and forgot to leave the message for you.”
“There was no harm done. Was there?” When Laura looked to Boone for confirmation of her claim, he was staring at Sebastian.
“I didn’t think you’d have the guts to show up here, Dunshill,” Boone said tightly, then allowed a cold smile to twist his mouth. “You’re a little late, though. Laura’s marrying me.”
She laughed softly. “How very macho you sound, Boone. After you see what he brought, you’re going to be glad he came. Come on.” She linked an arm with his. “Let’s go inside so I can show you.”
She ushered Boone into the house, trailed by Sebastian and Trey, the sound of their footsteps accompanied by the jingle of Trey’s spurs. In the living room she stopped and placed a detaining hand on Boone’s broad chest.
“You wait here and I’ll bring it down.” As she crossed to the staircase, Laura threw a glance at her brother. “Give me a hand, will you, Trey?”
“Sure,” he agreed and lengthened his stride to catch up with her.
Sebastian paused in the living room and slipped off the straw Resistol. Reaching up, he combed his fingers through the sides of his hair, flattened by the hatband. All the while he visually tracked Laura’s ascent of the stairs, he was conscious of Boone’s gaze boring into him, but he chose not to acknowledge it. With each passing second the silence in the room thickened.
The instant Laura disappeared from sight, it was broken. “I don’t give a damn what you brought, Dunshill.” Boone’s low voice vibrated with anger. “You’re not wanted here. Unfortunately, Laura is too polite to tell you to hit the road.”
Sebastian smiled without humor and sent him a sideways glance. “But you are bound by no such constraints, are you?”
“Your fancy talking doesn’t impress me. Neither does your title,” Boone retorted. “We both know you’re after one thing—to con Laura out of her money. Haven’t you figured it out yet that Laura is wise to you?”
“Oh yes.” Sebastian nodded. “She’s made that abundantly clear.”
“Then get yourself on the next plane out of here,” Boone growled as footsteps and jangling spurs came from the upper hall.
Sebastian merely smiled. “All in good time, old boy.”
Laura’s reappearance at the top of the steps, accompanied by Trey carrying the framed painting, forced Boone to bite back any sharp retort he might have been inclined to make. She ran lightly down and across the room to Boone, slipping an arm around his waist and fitting herself to his side.
“Look.” With an outstretched hand, she indicated the painting that Trey held up to view. “The portrait of Lady Elaine. Isn’t it wonderful?”
“It certainly is.” A little tightness remained in the smile Boone gave her. It went with the resentment in the glance he sent Sebastian. “That was very generous of you, Dunshill.”
“It was, wasn’t it?” Laura agreed and turned a curious look on Sebastian. “Considering how desperate you are for cash, I don’t understand why you didn’t call Max. As interested as he was in acquiring the portrait, you could have sold it to him for considerably more than its worth. Why didn’t you?”
“If I’d wanted him to own it, I would have,” Sebastian replied smoothly. “But I preferred that you have it.”
“I’m glad you did. I absolutely love it,” Laura declared, her attention once again on the portrait that bore such a striking resemblance to her.
“I think we should hang it above the fireplace at the Slash R, don’t you?” Boone’s remark was far from an idle one. It was a pointed reminder of his pending marriage to Laura.
“That might seem a little vain,” Laura suggested. “But we’ll find the perfect place for it.”
“While you two thrash out where the portrait is to be hung, I think I’ll make good use of the shower facilities.” Excusing himself, Sebastian crossed to the stairs.
“That goes for me, too,” Trey said and lifted a hand to Boone. “See you later at dinner.”
Laura covered their departure by giving Boone an embracing squeeze. “I’m so glad you came.”
“Why didn’t you tell me Dunshill was here?” His sharp gaze searched her face.
“When did I have a chance?” she countered in wide-eyed innocence. “I was out when you called me, and you were gone when I called you back.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t show him the door, considering what you know about him.”
“But, darling,” Laura turned into his arms and ran her fingers along the open front of his shirt collar, “I couldn’t be that rude, not when he gave me the painting of Lady Elaine.”
“Just how long has he been here?”
“A couple of days,” Laura answered with a shrug. “Hardly long enough to get over his jet lag. More important,” she said, linking her fingers behind his neck and arching against him, “how long will you be staying?”
“I’m not leaving until he does.” It was a flat, hard statement.
Laura’s smile widened. “In that case, I’ll make sure he stays a long time.”
“Dammit, Laura.” The words came from him in an explosive burst.
She tipped her head back and laughed low in her throat. “Really, darling, you can’t possibly be jealous of him. Not now.” Rising on her tiptoes, she rubbed her moist lips over the tight line of his mouth until his arms circled her and crushed her in a hard, claim-staking embrace.
Laura couldn’t say why she was reluctant to send Sebastian on his way. It would have been an easy thing to do. She suspected it was a natural resistance on her part to having someone else impose his will on her.
She suggested as much to Tara the following day when she and Boone spent the afternoon poolside at Tara’s summer home in Wolf Meadow. When someone from the ranch in Texas called Boone on his cell phone, Tara had used the private moment with Laura to remark, “I imagine Boone was upset when he discovered Sebastian was at the ranch.”
“He definitely wasn’t happy.” Laura rubbed a generous amount of sunscreen lotion on her leg.
“I’m surprised he didn’t insist that you ask Sebastian to leave.”
“He tried,” Laura replied. “But he needs to learn that I won’t be pressured into doing things.”
“Don’t be foolish, Laura,” Tara stated with unexpected sharpness. “The pressure is coming from Max. You can never butt heads with Max Rutledge and win.”
With a little shock, Laura realized that Tara was right, both in her identification of the source and her assessment of the outcome. “I’ll figure out a way to handle him.” Laura didn’t kid herself that it would be easy.
“Laura,” Tara said in warning, but she was prevented from saying more by Boone’s return, his phone call finished.
“Everything all right at the ranch?” Laura recapped the lotion bottle and set it on the pool deck next to her chair.
“No major problems.”
“Good.” Her smile was quick and warm. “I have a suggestion to make. Why don’t we go out to dinner tonight? Just the two of us.”