Page 74

It was brief, but it was enough. Gathering up the papers scattered across the table, he set the letter on top of the pile. He refused to look at the clock. He had passed the point of exhaustion long ago.

Across the room, the remaining portion of the last log he’d placed on the fire shifted, splintering into crumbling sparks as a furious pounding sounded at the door. He shot to his feet, his heart thumping.

“Sebastian!”

In an instant, he crossed the room and pulled open the door. “Rosalind! Whatever is the matter?” A red-and-blue shawl covered her white dressing gown. Her hair fell below her shoulders in long dark curls, and she faced him with wide, terrified eyes.

“There’s a man.” She was out of breath. “He’s outside, looking through all the windows.”

Sebastian took her hand and drew her into the room. “Calm yourself. You must have been dreaming.”

“No!” She pulled her hand free and pointed to the window. “He’s coming, Sebastian. I saw him from my bedchamber. He’s searching for your workshop. I’m sure of it.” A faint yellow glow appeared in the narrow chink between the curtains, and Rosalind gasped. “He’s here.”

Grabbing the courier’s satchel from the floor beside the table, Sebastian swept up Meikle’s papers. “My study,” he said, rolling the papers into a fat scroll and stuffing them into the bag. “There’s a pistol in the top drawer of the desk.”

Rosalind fled. Her running footsteps echoed down the passage as Sebastian cinched the buckle on the satchel closed and tossed the bag behind the nearest armchair. At the window, a sharp crack was immediately followed by the sound of broken glass raining down upon the floor. The curtains twitched as the outside breeze caught them, the movement increasing as a gentle grind signaled the raising of the casement.

Seizing the wooden chair from behind the table, Sebastian crossed the short distance to the window just as two feet appeared beneath the curtain. He raised the chair and swung it against the man’s legs. The intruder cursed, tearing the curtains back and stumbling into the room, a gun in hand.

“Sellers!” Sebastian staggered back two paces.

“Indeed.” He waved his gun at the chair in Sebastian’s hands. “Put it down, Kelbrook. And walk away.”

The man was dressed in black from head to toe, a fact that only accentuated his pale face and wild eyes.

“What the blazes is the meaning of this?” Keeping his hold on the chair, Sebastian pinned him with an icy glare. “Have you been in your cups, man?”

“You would like to think so, wouldn’t you, Kelbrook,” Seller sneered. “It must be beyond comprehension that any gentleman in his right mind would target so high and mighty a duke.” He steadied his gun so that it was pointed directly at Sebastian’s chest. “We shall chalk that up as your first disappointment of the night.” He narrowed his eyes. “I believe I told you to rid yourself of the chair.”

Sebastian dropped the chair. It thudded to the floor, landing on its side. If nothing more, it would serve as an obstacle for Sellers.

“Do not bring my title into this,” Sebastian said. “Breaking and entering is a crime no matter where it is committed. Attempting it at Finley Park only proves that you are a fool as well as a felon.”

Anger flashed in Sellers’s eyes, and he took another step toward Sebastian. “A fool? Oh, yes, I am a fool. I should have married Miss Ainsworth before you returned to Town and enticed her away with your money and position. Her dowry would have taken care of my debts quite nicely.” He gave a hollow laugh. “At least for the time being.”

“How very flattering.” Rosalind spoke from the doorway. “I daresay every young lady desires to have her dowry used to postpone a gentleman’s life of crime.”

Sellers stiffened, but the gun in his hand did not falter. As long as it was pointed at him and not Rosalind, Sebastian could attempt to think rationally. Did she have his pistol? He did not dare turn to look at her.

“What an unexpected pleasure, Your Grace.” Keeping his eyes on Sebastian even as he spoke to Rosalind, Sellers made no effort to conceal his sarcasm. “I did not realize that neither you nor your husband sleep at night.”

“It is a night of surprises, then, Mr. Sellers, as I did not know that you had such despicable criminal tendencies.”

Sellers flinched. He was not completely unfeeling, then. Her barb had hit its mark.

“I do not expect you to understand such things, but when a gentleman’s business investments fail, he is forced to recoup his loses in other ways.”

“Such as marrying for money.”

Sellers inclined his head. “That is one way.”

“And this is another?”

Sebastian’s back remained toward the door, but Rosalind sounded closer than she had been. Was she attempting to distract Sellers with conversation?

“The Duke of Kelbrook has money to spare,” Sellers said.

“And you believe you will find those funds in his workshop?” Her tone called into question the man’s intelligence.