Page 78 of How to Start a Scandal

Her footsteps pounded up the stairs over his head. He turned down the hall towards the staircase and met their butler, Wilson.

The older man remained stoically in Seth’s path. ‘May I help you, my lord?’

A door closed upstairs with considerable force and disappointment crushed Seth. Violet would not be accessible today.

Emotions swirled through him like a chaotic blizzard, pieces so powerful, so thick as they congealed together in a massive blob that they were indistinguishable together. Indiscernible and overwhelming.

Seth’s shoulders sagged. ‘I’d like to be shown out if you please, Wilson.’

‘As you wish.’ Wilson indicated with a white-gloved hand. ‘This way.’

Seth was shown out of Hollingston House, but didn’t bother to take the short path home. Instead, he made his way to the mews and asked Harold to bring the carriage round. He could use some time at White’s, in the company of gentlemen, without all the drama of marriages and debauching brothers and ladies who had fornicated with one’s brother.

Even as he climbed into the carriage, another image flashed in his head of his brother drawing up Violet’s skirts, touching her creamy inner thighs. Did she make the same breathy cries of pleasure for him? Did she look up at him with that same dreamy expression?

He put his head in his hands as he did so often when plagued by memories of war and wished he could expunge the thoughts from his mind with sheer willpower alone. The carriage came to a hard stop that nearly sent him flying from his seat.

He burst from the carriage before Burton could get the door for him and leapt down without using the dainty little step. ‘Have a care with those stops, Harold,’ he called sharply over his shoulder.

‘Sorry, m’lord.’ Harold’s jovial voice met Seth’s back.

If Seth hadn’t been so drunk the night of Violet’s debut, he would not have leered at her in that dress. He would not have had to hide his lustful thoughts behind an unapologetic absence. She would not have been left at the mercy of other men with her pride bruised and her confidence crumbled.

‘Dalton.’ Rawley joined Seth. ‘Are you well?’

Seth requested a glass with two fingers of brandy. ‘I’ve been better.’

‘I spoke with Caroline last night.’ Rawley gave him a shy smile. ‘Do you think she minded that I spoke of my adverse reaction to shrimp?’

Did William tug down Violet’s dress? Did he fondle her full breasts? Kiss them as Seth had?

‘I worried after the fact that it might have been ill mannered.’ Rawley brushed his fingers inside his pocket where his watch sat. ‘I’ve been plagued with worry over it all night.’

Did William’s teeth tease over her rosy nipples? Did she cry out for him?

Rawley cleared his throat. ‘I say, Dalton, you really don’t seem well at all.’

Seth pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘There is a courtesan—’

Rawley began vigorously shaking his head. ‘I’ll have none of that.’

The servant delivered the brandy to Seth and he took a deep, burning sip. Could fire cleanse hell?

He was about to find out.

‘There is a courtesan who instructs ladies of the ton in the art of flirtation,’ Seth finished his original statement. ‘Her name is Lottie. You ought to see her. Not for pleasure, but for instruction in how to talk to a woman. For God’s sake, man, it could not be easier. My sister is infatuated with you. Yet at every turn, you make her think you are lacking in interest. Do yourself, and her, and me for that matter, a favour and make an appointment for instruction.’

Rawley’s nose twitched. ‘She instructs men?’

‘I imagine she does.’ Seth took another swallow.

Rawley nodded in quiet consideration. ‘Thank you for your counsel.’

Seth grunted, not certain if he was pleased to be done with the vexing conversation or annoyed that he would be left at the mercilessness of his tortured thoughts. Perhaps it was a little of both.

If he had been at the ball that night to dance with Violet, William would never have had to fill in for him.

A sudden realisation slammed into him that left the brandy in his empty stomach swirling.