“I shall let you into a little secret,” he continued. “Your housekeeper was quite forthcoming on the subject of foreign visitors.”
“You spoke to Mrs. Hudson?”
“Of course. When I called to collect your nightdress,” he said, gesturing to the garment. Although considering the effect it was having on his current disposition, he wished he had let her sleep in wet clothes.
She tilted her head to the side and considered him for a moment, no doubt calculating what he knew and what secrets she was willing to divulge.
“Yesterday, a few hours before I arrived at your door, a gentleman who called himself the Comte de Dampierre came to Brampton Hall,” she
said in a measured tone, as though making a statement at the monthly assizes. “It appears James is in some sort of trouble. Apparently, he made a deal to trade the necklace and has since disappeared. The comte suggested the matter might be concluded if I were able to discover its whereabouts. Hence the reason I am here.”
While he knew she spoke the truth, such a curt and concise recital omitted one vital ingredient: emotion. Such lack of feeling, either in tone or in the relating of events, told him there were parts of the conversation she had neglected to tell him.
“Did Dampierre tell you to come here?” he asked. He had spent a considerable amount of time in France and yet had never heard of the Comte de Dampierre.
“No, that was my idea. You’re the only person James trusts. But, as the rightful owner of the necklace, I shall relieve you of your burden so you may continue on your quest for spiritual recuperation.”
Her pretty blue eyes sparkled with amusement and the corners of her mouth curled into a smile, despite trying to suppress it.
“Spiritual recuperation — is there such a thing?” he asked, a little confused. “If there is, I can assure you my spirit does not need to recuperate.”
“Really?” she mocked. “I heard you had lost your vitality and had come home to rediscover it.”
Sebastian placed his hands on the desk and leaned forward. “There is nothing wrong with my vitality,” he answered defensively. “And I am afraid that somewhere along the way you have made a frightful miscalculation. I think you will find your brother is the heir and so the necklace belongs to him.”
She moved to put her hands on her hips but changed her mind. “Yes, but in choosing to place it in your hands he obviously meant for you to return it to me.”
“I do not believe that to be the case. Your brother obviously doesn’t want this Dampierre fellow to have it, and I doubt he would want to place you in any danger. Whilst I agree there is something strange about the whole affair, perhaps he gave it to me knowing how I thrive on intrigue.” He gave her a wicked grin. “And believe me when I tell you, Miss Beaufort, intrigue is not the only feeling thrumming through my veins.”
At first she appeared a little flustered. Her eyes shifted around the room and he could hear her breathing more deeply. He would have given anything to know what she was thinking.
“I’m afraid I must insist, my lord. The necklace must be returned to London as a matter of urgency. It is not a topic for negotiation.”
It was the first time she had addressed him with the respect befitting his station, but she had done so by way of a reprimand.
Sebastian walked around the desk, closing the gap between them and perched on the edge. He had a newfound respect for Miss Beaufort. Such fortitude in a man was commendable, for a woman it was remarkable. However, he would be damned before he would allow her to do something so foolish. In granting him guardianship of the necklace, it appeared James had inadvertently granted him guardianship of his sister.
“So let me understand your situation,” he said, rubbing his chin. “You, an unmarried woman of gentle breeding, insist on riding alone to London carrying an extremely expensive necklace. Once there, I believe you intend to attempt to trace your brother or meet with a French comte.”
“Yes,” she replied with a firm nod.
“And you expect me to just hand it over and wave goodbye at the door.” He straightened to his full height and said in a stern voice, “Have you ever been to London, Miss Beaufort?”
“That is of no consequence,” she replied, unperturbed. “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
Sebastian snorted. Her argument had no basis for she had probably never ventured more than ten miles from her own front door. “I will not deny that your courage appears to have no bounds, but you could not possibly be aware of what danger lies ahead.”
The mere mention of the word danger should have been enough to create doubt over such a ludicrous plan, but Miss Beaufort was either deaf or oblivious to the meaning of the word.
“I have a theory,” she said, straightening her back and lifting her chin. “Those not courageous enough to take risks, will accomplish nothing in life.” She gave a little shrug, a coy smile playing on her lips. “Sometimes you just have to take a chance.”
It appeared there was only one way to put a stop to her ridiculous notion of heroism. “I believe I am about to put your theory to the test.”
He did not wait for a response. In a few strides, he covered the distance between them, moved his hand to the small of her back and pulled her into his chest.
“Where is your courage now, Miss Beaufort?” he whispered as his lips found hers.
Chapter 7