Dangerous

Chapter Eleven

Prudence awoke abruptly, aware that something was wrong. This was the first night she and Sebastian had gotten to sleep before dawn. The combination of the demands of their busy social life and Sebastian's lovemaking had somehow combined to keep her awake all night every night since her marriage. She got the feeling that Sebastian was accustomed to staying up all night. He seemed in the habit of not going to bed until after dawn.

Prudence had begun to wonder if she would ever be able to return to a normal schedule, one that involved going to bed at a decent hour and getting up early in the mornings. Perhaps now that she had mar­ried Sebastian she would be obliged to adapt to Town ways. The thought of being up all night for the rest of her life was daunting.

She lay still for a moment. Ghostly remnants of a dream drifted through her mind. She concentrated, but could not quite catch them. She thought she recalled black drapes blowing in front of a window that opened out onto an endless night. But the image vanished almost at once.

Then she realized that she was alone in the big bed. She turned on the pillow.

"Sebastian?"

"I'm here, Prue."

She glanced toward the window and saw the large but rather fuzzy shape of him standing there. He had his back to her, one hand braced against the sill. Prudence sat up against the pillows and reached for her spectacles.

When she fumbled them into place on her nose she saw that Se­bastian had put on his black dressing gown. He looked more like a

Fallen Angel than ever as he stood there gazing out into the night-darkened gardens. Lucifer was sitting on the windowsill next to Sebas­tian. The cat was as intent on the night as Sebastian was.

"Are you having difficulty sleeping?" she asked softly as she lit the candle by the bed.

"I never sleep before dawn."

"Oh. Then there is nothing wrong?"

"No." His voice was dark and brooding. "Go back to sleep, Prue."

Prudence ignored the instruction. She drew her knees up under the bedclothes and wrapped her arms around them. "You may as well tell me what you are thinking about. I am unlikely to go back to sleep with you standing there staring out the window like that. It makes me uneasy."

Sebastian stroked Lucifer. "I'm sorry that I'm keeping you from your sleep."

She smiled. "Well, you are, so you had best tell me what it is that you are contemplating so intently. Otherwise I shall never get back to sleep."

He glanced at her, momentarily amused. "I believe you mean that."

"I do mean it." Prudence rested her chin on her knees. "You are contemplating the investigation, are you not?"

"Yes."

"I thought that might be it." Prudence hesitated. "I suspect you are thinking about Jeremy's snuffbox. You are no doubt trying to fig­ure out why it was in that chamber."

"I have begun to wonder lately if you have developed a talent for reading my mind."

"As you once observed, my lord, we are very much alike in our thinking processes."

"Yes." Sebastian stroked Lucifer in silence for a moment. "It puz­zles me," he said at last.

Prudence knew without being told that he had leaped back to the original topic. "Jeremy's connection to the investigation? I agree with you. It is very puzzling."

She and Sebastian had discussed the matter at length after the ball. Sebastian had told her about his confrontation with Jeremy and of how Jeremy had denied any knowledge of the black chamber.

"I made some inquiries earlier this evening. It seems my cousin is

1

not one of Curling's close friends. That weekend that Jeremy spent at the castle was the only time he had ever been there."

"Who told you that?" Prudence asked. "Jeremy?"

"No, a man named Durham who is in the habit of regularly attend­ing Curling's house parties. He's a professional hanger-on who main­tains a presence in Society by making himself amusing and agreeable. You know the sort."

Prudence smiled ruefully at Sebastian's obvious contempt. "I sup­pose poor Mr. Durham's role in the polite world is rather like that of an Original such as myself. People tolerate us as long as we are amus­ing."

Sebastian turned his head swiftly. His eyes gleamed fiercely in the shadows. "You, madam, are now the Countess of Angelstone. Do not ever forget it. You do not exist to amuse and entertain Society. Quite the contrary. Society exists to amuse and entertain you."

Prudence blinked at the controlled violence of his response to what she had intended only as a small jest. "An interesting concept, my lord. I shall consider it more closely some other time. For now, let us return to the matter of your cousin Jeremy."

"The problem," Sebastian said slowly, "is that there is nothing to which one may return. We know nothing else yet except that Jeremy was at the castle when Ringcross died and that it was his snuffbox that we found in that damn chamber."

"Along with the gold button."

Sebastian tapped one finger slowly on the windowsill. "Yes. I have not yet started my inquiries in that direction. It might prove interest­ing to see what we learn about the button."

Prudence studied him for a moment. "Do you think your cousin lied to you when he claimed he had never been in that black cham­ber?"

"I don't know."

"Are you concerned that he may actually be involved in Ring-cross's death?" Prudence asked.

"I think the coincidence of that snuffbox being in that black cham­ber is a bit hard to dismiss out of hand. My instincts tell me there is some connection."

"Coincidences do happen, Sebastian."

"I'm aware of that, but they don't happen often and it has been my experience that they rarely occur at all in an investigation of this sort."

Prudence considered the matter for a minute. "I do not know him well, but from what I have seen of your cousin, I would have a hard time envisioning him as a murderer. He seems to be very much a gentleman."

Sebastian stared out into the fog-bound night. "Any man can be driven to murder if there is sufficient motivation. A gentleman may kill as easily as the next man."

"But what on earth could the motivation be in this case? Why would Jeremy want to kill Ringcross?"

"I don't know. There are a number of questions to be answered. Among other things we must learn if there was any connection be­tween Jeremy and Ringcross."

"You seem hesitant, Sebastian. What is wrong?"

He glanced back over his shoulder. "The question I am asking myself tonight is whether or not I wish to continue this investigation."

"I thought that might be it," Prudence said sympathetically. "I can certainly comprehend your reluctance to investigate a member of your own family."

Sebastian's mouth curved humorlessly. "Do not mistake me, madam. It is no concern of mine if Jeremy gets himself arrested for murder."

Prudence was shocked. "How can you say that? He is your cousin."

"So? Do you think that the scandal involved in having a Fleetwood arrested would bother me? Not bloody likely. It might be rather amus­ing."

"Sebastian, we're talking about murder here."

"Yes, we are, are we not?" Sebastian's smile could only be de­scribed as feral. "It would be interesting to watch that bitch Drucilla and the rest of my charming relatives get a taste of Society's brutal tongues."

"Sebastian, that kind of gossip would devastate that side of the family."

"Quite possibly. If Jeremy is arrested for murder, his mother would no doubt be banished from the ton. Society would turn its back on her just as it turned its back on my parents. It would be a most appropriate sort of justice."

Prudence shivered. "You cannot mean that."

"You think not?" The gold band on Sebastian's finger glinted in the candlelight as he continued to pet Lucifer.

"You are the head of the family, Sebastian," Prudence said very steadily. "You will do whatever is necessary to protect it."

He reached for her without any warning. He caught hold of her shoulders and held her still in front of him. "This family," he said through set teeth, "consists of you and me and whatever children we may be fortunate enough to have. I do not give a damn if all of the rest of those incredibly boring Fleetwoods hang."

"You cannot mean that. One cannot dismiss one's relatives simply because they are unpleasant or insufficiently amusing."

"I assure you that the Fleetwoods had no difficulty at all dismissing my parents out of hand."

Prudence framed his hard face between her palms. "Is it revenge you seek, then, my lord? If that is the case, why have you not already taken it?"

Sebastian's hands tightened on her. "You think I have not dreamed of doing so?"

"I don't understand. Your friend Mr. Sutton explained to me that you have it within your power to cut off funds to the rest of the family or even to get them all banished from Society. If you feel so strongly about punishing the rest of the Fleetwoods, why did you not exercise your power over them when you first came into the title?"

Sebastian's eyes gleamed. "Do not doubt for one instant that I will exercise all of the power I hold over my relatives if they ever push me too far. But until then they are safe, although they do not know it."

"Why are they safe?"

"Because I am bound by a promise. A promise I made to my mother as she lay dying."

Prudence was stricken. "I thought your parents and brother were killed in that fall of rock you told me about."

"I received word early in the evening of what had happened up in the mountains." Sebastian's voice was very distant. "I took a group of men from the village and went in search of my family. We reached the pass at midnight. We set up lanterns and started to dig through the fallen rocks and debris."

"Dear God, Sebastian."

"It was so cold, Prue. And there was a heavy fog. I will never forget the damned fog. We found them just before dawn. My brother first. Then my father. They were both dead. My mother was still barely alive. She lived until sunrise."

"I am so sorry," Prudence whispered. "I did not mean to resurrect such tragic memories."

"You may as well hear it all now. I have told no other living soul that the Fleetwoods are safe from me because with her dying breath my mother pleaded their cause."

"Your mother asked you not to take revenge against them?"

"She knew that someday I would inherit the title. And she guessed that when I did, I would use the power it would give me to punish the rest of the family for what they had done to my father and to her. She did not want that to happen. She said the family had been torn apart long enough."

"Your mother sounds as if she was a very kind and compassionate woman."

"She was. But I am neither kind nor compassionate and I confess there have been times when the temptation to ruin the Fleetwoods in a variety of interesting ways has been almost irresistible."

Prudence searched his grim face. "I can imagine."

"Unfortunately, the oath I gave my mother has restrained me as effectively as an iron chain. ‘Give me your word of honor that you will not cause the Fleetwoods any harm for what they did to us,' she said. She was dying. So I gave her my word. At the time it did not seem such a great thing. I had other, more important vengeance on my mind."

"What other vengeance?"

Sebastian's face was set in stark, inscrutable lines. "My only goal that day was to find the bandits who had been responsible for the rockfall. I was not thinking about Fleetwoods when I buried my family in those damn mountains. I was thinking about slitting the throats of those who had killed them."

Prudence stared at him. "You went after the bandits yourself?"

"I took some of the men from the village with me. They were willing to help. They had suffered enough from the bandits, them­selves. What they had lacked was a leader who could provide a plan of action."

"You provided the leadership and the plan?"

"Yes." Sebastian moved away from her. He went back to the win­dow and stared out into the darkness. "It took me less than a week to come up with a way to lure the bandits into the trap. They all perished in it, every last one of them. I killed their leader myself."

"Oh, Sebastian."

His hand clenched the edge of the windowsill. "I told him precisely why he was dying as he lay bleeding to death at my feet."

Prudence went over to Sebastian and wrapped her arms around him from behind. She leaned her head against his shoulder. "It was not your fault. Your father was an explorer. Journeys in wild lands involve great risks."

Sebastian said nothing.

"It is not your fault that he took that mountain pass, Sebastian. Your father was an experienced traveler. He chose to cross those mountains. He obviously assumed it was safe to do so. It was your father who made the tragic mistake, not you."

Sebastian still did not respond.

Prudence pressed herself closer to him. It seemed to her that he felt very cold. She had no more words. All she could do was share her warmth with him.

She held him tightly for a long time.

After a while she was aware that some of the tension had left Sebastian. He touched one of her hands that was clasped around his waist.

"Now you know the reason why I have never taken real vengeance against the Fleetwoods," he said quietly.

"I see. But Sebastian, what will you do about the investigation? Surely you will not walk away from it."

"No," he said. "I admit that I am curious now. I want to learn the answers."

"I knew it," Prudence said with satisfaction. "I knew you could not just abandon the case."

"But I have not yet decided what I will do with the answers that I discover," he added softly.

"Sebastian."

"Calm yourself, Prue. I will not turn the evidence against Jeremy over to Bow Street. That would be a violation of my oath to my mother. But neither am I under any obligation to protect Jeremy if Bow Street discovers its own evidence."

Prudence eyed him uneasily. "This sounds like another of your cat-and-mouse games that everyone says you enjoy playing with the Fleet-woods."

"I only play such games when I am excessively bored," Sebastian said. "Believe it or not, most of the time I have more interesting things to do than to go about baiting Fleetwoods."

Prudence shook her head. "Sebastian, you should be ashamed of yourself."

"No lectures, madam." He turned around and touched her lips with a warning finger. "I am in no mood to listen to any of your sermons on responsibility and mature behavior."

"What if I am inclined to give you such a sermon?"

"Then I shall simply have to find a way to silence you." He drew her hand to his mouth and kissed the inside of her wrist. His eyes did not leave hers. "I'm certain I'll think of some suitable method."

"Sebastian, I am trying to have a serious discussion here." Pru­dence could already feel the liquid warmth coiling inside her. She snatched her hand out of his grasp. "Do you intend to spend the rest of your life tormenting the Fleetwoods whenever you have nothing better to do?"

"As I said, I generally have better things to do. Fleetwoods are, by and large, a dull lot."

"How fortunate for them."

"Furthermore, now that I am a married man I have a duty to establish my nursery and set about the business of getting myself an heir. I expect I shall be well occupied in the foreseeable future."

"You are incorrigible, my lord."

"I work at the task." His expression hardened again. "There is something you must understand, Prue."

"What is that?"

"It is true enough that the Fleetwoods are safe from me. But only to a point."

"A point?"

Sebastian smiled his coldest smile. "If one of them steps too far over the line, the promise I made to my mother will not protect them."

"What do you consider stepping too far over the line?" Prudence asked cautiously.

"If my aunt or any of the others goes after you in any way, I want to know about it I will crush whoever is responsible."

"Sebastian."

"I vowed to my mother that I would not punish the Fleetwoods for turning their backs on her and my father. But nothing was said about what I could do to them if they insulted or offended my wife."

"But Sebastian—"

"No, Prue. You bargained with me once on that score after my aunt insulted you during our engagement. I would have taken action against her then, but I allowed you to talk me out of it."

"I do not believe you let me talk you out of it," Prudence said. "You listened to reason and decided to behave in the noble manner one expects of a man of your status and power."

Sebastian's brows rose. "I gave in to your pleas, my sweet, naive little Prue, because we were merely engaged then, not married."

"I beg your pardon?"

"At the time I was in a somewhat precarious position. I did not wish to anger my future bride to such an extent that she might call off the engagement. So I indulged her."

"I do not believe you."

"No doubt because you have convinced yourself that I am still Lucifer before the fall."

"This is intolerable." Prudence glowered at him. "Are you saying that now that you have married me, you are no longer concerned with the prospect of making me angry?"

"I much prefer you when you are in a charming, cooperative mood, my dear. But the fact of the matter is we are legally bound now." Sebastian stroked his finger along the curve of her shoulder. He smiled when she shivered. "And we are bound in other ways as well, are we not? No matter how angry you become, you cannot walk out on me."

"And if I did?"

"I would follow you and bring you home," he promised. "Then I would make love to you until you shuddered in my arms, until you pleaded with me to take you. Until you could no longer even recall why you had been angry with me."

"Sebastian."

"Until you realized that what you and I have together is all that matters."

Prudence looked into his candlelit eyes and caught her breath. "I warned you once not to think you could manipulate me with your lovemaking."

He smiled slowly. "So you did. But I have always liked a chal­lenge."

"Sebastian, do not tease me, I beg you. This is a very serious matter."

"I assure you I am taking it very seriously." He caught her chin on the edge of his hand. "Attend me well, madam. The vow my mother extracted from me will not keep me from punishing the Fleetwoods if they insult you or offend you in any way."

Prudence tapped one bare foot. "I have the impression that you rather hope one of them does manage to step over this invisible line you have drawn."

The devil's own laughter danced in Sebastian's gaze. "You are very perceptive, my sweet. And quite right. I would not mind in the least if one of them, preferably my aunt, crosses that line. But you needn't worry. I give you my solemn oath that it will only happen once."

"Because that is all the excuse you will need for taking retribu­tion?"

"Just one offense," he said softly. "One insult to you and I will see them banished from Society. I will cut their considerable incomes down to tiny allowances."

Prudence was stunned by the implacable intent in his words. Her palms were suddenly damp. "Is that the real reason you chose to marry an unfashionable Original, then, my lord? Because you knew that only someone as odd as myself could manage to draw the insults you wanted from your relatives?"

Sebastian frowned. "Now, Prue—"

"Did you marry me just so that you would finally have cause to exact the vengeance you crave?"

"Don't be a fool." Sebastian's lashes veiled his eyes. "Do you think I would tie myself for life to a woman whose only recommendation was that she was bound to annoy the Fleetwoods?"

"The thought crossed my mind, yes."

Sebastian swore. "If that had been the only thing I required of a wife, I would have married long ago. I assure you that there are any number of females here in London who would have offended the Fleetwoods."

"No doubt."

"Use your admirable intellect, madam. I'll admit I would very much like to punish the Fleetwoods, but not at the price of marriage to a female who would have made me a totally unsuitable wife."

"Of course, my lord." Prudence fought back tears. "I should have considered the matter more closely. Now that I do, I can see that you needed a most unusual combination of characteristics in your count­ess."

"I most certainly did." He smiled.

"You needed a female who was both odd enough to draw the condemnation of your relatives and yet clever enough to amuse you."

Sebastian scowled. "You are being deliberately difficult, Prue. I have told you why I married you."

"Mutual interests and mutual passion." Prudence drew the back of her hand across her eyes. "I understand those reasons for our mar­riage. But I feel I was grossly misled on this other requirement you have mentioned, my lord."

"Prue, stop this nonsense. You are getting it all mixed up."

"Am I?" She took a step back. "You never explained that I was to be a convenient tool you could use to bait the Fleetwoods. I do not like being used in such a fashion."

Sebastian's expression turned dangerous as she moved away from him. "You are twisting my words, Prue."

She blinked away more tears. "You ask too much of a wife, my lord. My list of duties grows longer every time I turn around. I am to amuse you. I am to be an intellectual companion so that you will have someone on hand to admire your brilliance when you are conducting an investigation. I am to warm your bed. And now you expect to use me as an excuse to punish the Fleetwoods for what they did to your parents."

Sebastian took a gliding step toward her. "I have had enough of this nonsense."

"So have I. It is time for me to draw a line of my own and I am going to do so."

"What line would that be?" He took another step toward her.

"You will not use me as an excuse to avenge yourself on your relatives. I do not care what insult is offered. You will not use me. Is that clear?"

"You are my wife, Prue. I will not tolerate any insult to you. On that score there will be no bargaining."

"Then I demand the right to decide whether or not I have been insulted," she said defiantly.

"Damnation, Prue, are you crying?"

"Yes, I am."

"I warn you, I will not be manipulated with tears," he growled.

"And I will not be manipulated with lovemaking."

Sebastian gave her an ironic look. "Where does that leave us?"

Prudence wiped her tears away with the sleeve of her night rail. "I

have no notion, sir. If you will excuse me, I believe I am going to go back to bed."

He watched her intently. "I shall join you shortly."

"No, you will not. I am going back to my own bedchamber, my lord. I find I cannot sleep well here in your room."

Prudence walked to the connecting door, opened it, and went through to her own room. She shut the door behind her and held her breath.

She was not certain what Sebastian would do next. She half ex­pected him to follow her and give her a lecture on her wifely duties.

But the door to her bedchamber remained closed.