Dance with Deception: Scandalous Secrets, Book 1 - Exclusive Edition (Scandalous Secrets - Exclusive Edition) (13 page)

Before Dunlop could reply, Sebastian had already ushered Gwen in the direction of the dance floor. He bowed his head and whispered, “You don’t seem to be enjoying yourself. Is something amiss?”

“Everything is as it should be.” Her eyes flashed in defiance.

They reached the center of the dance floor and began to waltz. “This is how it should be,” he said, his baritone rich with emotion, emphasizing his first word for dramatic effect.

“Have you been speaking with my brother?” she asked him.

“No.” Sebastian grinned as he tightened his grip around her waist. “Should I speak with him?”

Gwen plastered a sardonic smile on her face then answered, “I’m certain you would find conversation with my brother riveting, for you both sound like parrots reciting the same words.”

“I have an idea. Why don’t I skip the conversation with your brother and marry you instead?”

Had she heard him correctly?

Stunned, Gwen lost her focus and tripped. Sebastian caught her, righting her before anyone became the wiser.

“Come now,” Sebastian’s husky timbre was teasing as his arms guided her into another dance step. “We mustn’t garner too much suspicion.”

Her eyes searched his.
Could this really be happening?
The entire scene seemed like a dream: the orchestra, the candlelight, the comforting aroma of his cologne, gliding across the marble tiles in his warm embrace. If it was a dream, she didn’t wish to awaken.

“Marry me, Gwen. Tristan can chaperone us to Gretna Green. The scandal will be minimal.”

“We can’t elope.” She still didn’t believe her ears.

“Yes, we can,” he insisted, his tall frame steadying her, sturdy as a century-old oak.

The music ended. Sebastian muttered under his breath about the orchestra’s bad timing before asserting, “We shall continue our discussion later.”

Soon afterward, the men gathered for brandy and cigars in the smoking room. Married and eligible men crowded the room, many of them of the older generation.

Sebastian scanned the room in search of Gwen’s father. The usually ill-tempered man stood among a group of older gentlemen, his expression animated as he discussed his daughter’s betrothal. With his chest puffed with pride, Lachlan gave the distinct impression that he was holding court and enjoying every minute of his dominance.

Sebastian then searched for Gwen’s brother and found him standing alone. While other members of his generation were gambling their family’s wealth at cards and discussing eligible women who were in attendance this night, Tristan glared at his father while a deep scowl marred his expression.

Sebastian observed him march to the sideboard
before pouring a generous amount of whiskey in a glass. Tristan then proceeded to the door.

Raucous laughter from his father’s group reverberated throughout the room.

“An earl? Well done, Lachlan. That’s a splendid match,” one of the elder gentlemen said, his slurred words indicating that he was somewhat inebriated.

Tristan turned on his heel and marched towards the crystal decanter he’d abandoned just minutes before. He then grabbed it and carried it out of the smoke-filled room.

Seconds later Sebastian reached the same table, and after grabbing his own glass and decanter, he followed Tristan onto the terrace.

He found Tristan sitting on a long stone bench overlooking the lawns. “Am I intruding?” Sebastian asked. The answer he received was a scowl. He then held out the ornate crystal decanter he carried. “I brought a peace offering.”

Gwen’s brother arched a brow then slid to the end of the bench in a silent gesture of welcome.

“I have my own but you’re more than welcome to join me in a toast.”

“To what shall we toast?” Sebastian asked as he joined Tristan on the cool stone.

Tristan raised his glass. “To the misery of love and the pitfalls of family.”

“My, that is morose.” Sebastian
clinked
his crystal decanter against Tristan’s.

They quickly consumed the contents of their glasses. Tristan then extracted two cheroots from his pocket, offering one to his companion. Once lit, each man sat in silence, first inhaling then
exhaling as the swirling smoke wafted into the crisp night air.

“A fine mess we have, is it not?” Tristan said, his words slicing into the stillness.

Sebastian exhaled a large puff of smoke then asked, “Which mess would you be referring to?”

“The whole bloody scenario – Gwen wants you and you want her, yet she is betrothed to a damn fool who doesn’t respect her one iota.” Tristan inhaled another puff from his cheroot then exhaled, a ragged sigh escaping his throat before he continued. “All that fop wants is an heir-maker, a pretty face attached to a pretty body.”

“Aren’t you being a little harsh? From what I overheard from your father in the cigar room, Dunlop deserves knighthood.” His words were thick with Sebastian’s special blend of sarcasm.

“What Keir deserves is a good kick in the arse. If he leers at my sister’s bosom one more time, God knows I will call him out.” Tristan sighed. “He is already sucking the life out of her and they aren’t yet married.”

“Nor will they be, if I have my way. I proposed to your sister this evening.” Sebastian was quick to note that his confession failed to brighten his companion’s spirits.

“She won’t accept your offer.” Tristan’s tone was solemn. “I spoke to her earlier this evening and my sister is a bloody mess, downright guilt ridden, certain that the scandal of crying off will destroy our family. I have considered every possible scenario, every possible way I can save her from this fiasco, but Gwen won’t allow me to protect her.
In regards to this matter, my father holds all the power unless Gwen disobeys him, which she is thus far unwilling to do.”

Sebastian filled his guest’s glass with more of the amber liquid. “I can understand her fear.”

Gwen’s twin swallowed several large gulps of his liquor before scoffing. “Our family is already ruined. Colin is gone and, if you ask me, he doesn’t want to return to our dysfunctional brood. My father and I share mutual dislike. The lone person who thinks we can be saved, or further destroyed, is my sister.”

“So we convince her that your family is beyond repair.” Sebastian nodded before adding, “Sounds easy enough.”

“If only it were that simple,” Tristan mumbled.

Sebastian took another sip of his drink, waiting for his companion to continue.

“I already tried that reasoning and she still wouldn’t budge. It is from years of being conditioned, I fear. You see, my father prefers his daughter to be guilt-ridden and submissive. His latest tactic has been to remind her incessantly of his impending death.” Tristan stretched his long legs in front of him. “He’s made it known to her that her marriage to Keir is his dying request. She’s afraid that disobeying him is akin to killing him.”

Continuing to cleanse his soul, Tristan’s voice turned gruff. “My sister has always made excuses for him. She feels it’s his ongoing grief from our mother’s passing that makes him so harsh and cold. Gwen has convinced herself that love governs our father’s actions, even when he manipulates her.”

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed at this revelation. “What is your opinion?” he asked, although he suspected he already knew what Tristan’s answer would be.

“My father is driven by selfishness and greed. When you first knew us, Gwen was allowed to do anything she wanted but when our father moved us to Scotland, the freedom we all enjoyed in England vanished. He was very hard on us, especially Gwen, often comparing her to other more refined young ladies. He seemed to take joy in pointing out her defects and hired a duenna, a heartless woman, to teach her how to be a lady. Gwen felt abandoned.”

“By everyone but you.”

Yes, everyone but me,” Tristan repeated. “As you know, Colin eventually vanished but he was never really close to us even when he wasn’t traveling. I have always been Gwen’s constant.”

Tristan paused and Sebastian remained silent in the hopes that it would encourage Gwen’s brother to continue speaking. This rare glimpse into Gwen’s life was precisely what Sebastian needed. He didn’t wait long for his companion to further confide in him.

“While I was being tutored, Gwen’s pasty, sour-faced duenna taught her etiquette and other lessons deemed proper for ladies. My sister was bored out of her skull. Asking our father if she could take lessons such as the ones I did turned out disastrous for her.” Tristan took a quick puff of his cheroot before continuing. “He refused her of course, wouldn’t even hear of it. Scotland is where she learned rejection and isolation. We both did, though
I compensated for it by refusing to please my father. Gwen, on the other hand, was more determined than ever to gain our father’s love.”

“A sad life for a young girl,” Sebastian shook his head then inhaled deeply from his cheroot.

“You have no idea,” Tristan admitted. “One day, I spotted Gwen squatting on the floor of the cold hallway outside my classroom, spying on my lessons. My teacher wasn’t aware of her presence nor did her duenna notice she was missing. By that time, the old bat had become negligent. So, instead of sitting in her room reciting table manners as instructed, Gwen was taking notes in her prim handwriting on a subject forbidden to her. At the time we were no more than thirteen, but she had already read all of the books in the library. She wanted so much to answer my tutor’s questions for me. I could see her itching to speak up.”

Sebastian exhaled a plume of smoke, imagining an isolated, smart little girl sitting on a hard, cold floor yearning to learn. “What were you being taught that day?” he asked in a whisper, shaken by the image.

Tristan narrowed his eyes, as if trying to remember. “It was Latin. After that day, we began private lessons, just she and I. I would bring my notes and we would sit on a glen and review my studies.”

A long silence followed. The decanter Sebastian brought held just enough color to indicate its original content. He snuffed out his cheroot in his glass.

“Sebastian,” Tristan’s tone was one of alarm.
“My father’s death knoll has been shadowing my sister, clouding her judgment and exacerbating her guilt. Even though Gwen is beginning to see just how controlling our father truly is, I fear it is too late. His announcement tonight was meant to silence her and I doubt she will disobey him now, no matter how much she wants to or how miserable her future with Keir will be. I fear that Gwen will break her own heart to save our family.”

Tristan rose from the bench and glanced at the bright constellations above with a heavy sigh. He then rolled the stub of his cheroot between his fingers before taking one final puff. “Do you love my sister? I want the truth.”

It was a question Sebastian hadn’t been prepared to answer. He had told himself that he wanted Gwen, wanted to protect her, nothing more. Yet, deep within his heart, Sebastian always suspected the agonizing truth.

He did indeed love her.

After so many years of protecting the fortress that was his heart, Gwen had penetrated its scarred and hardened walls.

Sebastian didn’t know how it happened or why, but it had. Even though he was terrified of it, even though he knew he was exposing himself to the possibility of heartache, he refused to run away from it.

Sebastian nodded, swallowing the lump forming in his throat. “I love Gwen … more than I ever thought possible.”

“Then I ask that you use whatever means necessary to keep her away from Keir.” Tristan
tossed the remainder of his cheroot into his empty glass. “Do something, anything, before it’s too late.”

Tristan then skulked back to the ballroom, leaving Sebastian alone with his thoughts echoing in the silence of the cool spring evening. His mind raced as he wracked his brain for a scenario that would change Gwen’s mind. He had to meet with her, in private.

Abandoning his bench, he sprinted into the ballroom to search of Gwen. His eyes scanned the crowded room, and when he finally found her, she was attached to Keir’s arm. He watched, waiting for a time to intercede, yet none presented itself. It appeared as if both Keir and her father were keeping tight reins upon her.

Sebastian clenched his fists in frustration and went in search of his sister. Victoria must deliver a message for him.

Victoria approached Gwen’s group, her heart pounding with fierce determination. She was on a mission for her brother and would take great care in seeing it completed.

She sidled next to Gwen. With her head held high, Victoria forced a bright smile at both Gwen’s father and betrothed before initiating a conversation with her friend about fashion, a subject that would drive away any man and which normally bored both she and Gwen to tears.

Victoria studied Lachlan’s face as his eyes
darted about the room. It was just as her brother predicted. Lachlan seemed to have forgotten her, his gaze instead fixed on Sebastian, who stood with a large group at the other side of the ballroom.

Since she was pretending to be so meek and her brother was too far from her to have any influence, Lachlan seemed to feel that Victoria was no threat to his scheme.

Through a fit of giggles, Victoria commented that she needed to use the powder room. Gwen picked up on her cue and both women excused themselves as they prattled on about hats and bows.