Chapter Eight
Putting Oliver to bed while Evelyn was still missing had upset both Jocelyn and her son. He was used to his aunt being there, and Jocelyn didn’t know what to say when he repeatedly asked where Evelyn was. He’d obviously picked up on the anxiety that both his mother and nanny were feeling, and he’d been a little bear all evening.
He finally cried himself to sleep, and she sat upon his bed for a long time afterward, trying to get her own racing emotions under control when all she really wanted to do was curl up next to her son and cry herself to sleep as well.
Where are you, Evelyn? She didn’t know if it was a prayer or a plea, but the thought had gone through her mind at least a thousand times in the last two days.
She would love to believe her sister was out there somewhere, that some ridiculous set of misadventures had left her stranded but unharmed. However, deep in her heart, she knew that it was foolish to keep hoping that things would turn out that way. Evelyn would never worry her this way. Never. It always came back to that. If there was any possible way that her sister could have contacted her, she would have.
Pushing away such disturbing thoughts, she went to her own set of rooms, closing the door and leaning heavily against it as she stared blindly around at the little oasis done in rich purples and blues she’d built for herself during the first weeks of her marriage. This had always been her safe place, and she’d demanded that her husband not visit her here. Instead, she’d instructed him to send for her when he wanted her, and she’d gone to his rooms to perform her wifely duties. It had been the only bit of power that she’d ever managed to wrest for herself during those early days.
No bad memories haunted her here, but if Evelyn was gone... if something bad had happened to her... would she ever feel safe anywhere?
With a sigh, she forced herself to the bathroom, where she ran a hot bath. She disrobed without calling for her maid and gratefully sank into it, placing a glass of red wine on the rim of the tub. The heat of the water calmed her somewhat, and as she drank her wine, her thoughts drifted to the time she’d spent with Sebastian Ness.
A shiver went through her as she remembered the way she’d brazenly kissed his beard-stubbled cheek and then fallen so dangerously into his arms. Was this what attraction and desire felt like? Since she had no prior experience with either one, she wasn’t really certain, but he made her feel things she’d never felt before. She wished that Evelyn hadn’t gone missing, that she’d gotten to know Sebastian better at Allison’s wedding when everything had still been right in her world and she could have entertained the idea of taking a lover...
She blinked, stunned that such a thought had crossed her mind. Reaching for her wine, she took another drink, but the thought had taken root and didn’t seem to want to go away.
Why shouldn’t she think such things? As a widow, she could do whatever she wanted, as long as she was discreet. She’d just never wanted to before. She’d never dreamed she might want to do the things her husband had forced upon her ever again.
But suddenly, she couldn’t stop thinking of the dreamy look on Allison’s face when she’d described making love with Inspector O’Brien. She certainly seemed to enjoy it. No, she more than enjoyed it. She’d risked everything to be with the man who’d awakened desire in her.
Jocelyn thought of the way Sebastian had touched her, the glorious release she’d found at his hands, and also what he’d said about finding her own pleasure. Did she dare try such a thing here in the privacy of her bath?
Biting her lip, Jocelyn slowly ran her fingertips over her breasts, which were aching and pebbled, wanting to once more feel the incredible sensations she’d felt in Sebastian’s arms this afternoon.
It felt wonderful, though heat flared in her cheeks and shame burned through her.
A sudden knock at the door made her gasp and drop her hands. “Who is it?” she called, expecting it to be the butler.
“It’s Inspector Ness,” he answered, then cleared his throat. “Sorry, my lady. I know it’s late, but your butler showed me up. You said you wanted to know as soon as I knew something, and well... I know something.”
She surged to her feet, reaching for her towel and looking around wildly, wondering what she should do. It would take forever to have Janette come up and make her presentable, but she couldn’t possibly allow him in her room when she was fresh from her bath. Stepping out of the tub, she toweled herself off frantically, knowing from the tone of his voice that there was no time to waste.
“My lady?” he asked again, and she realized she hadn’t answered him.
“Just a minute,” she cried, reaching for her heavy velvet robe and wrapping it securely about her still damp body, belting it tightly at the waist. She glanced at herself in her vanity mirror, horrified to see her wild red curls frizzing crazily around her flushed face, her voluptuous curves easily discernible beneath the robe, but it couldn’t be helped. She had to know what he’d found out. Besides, given the liberties she’d already allowed him, it would be ridiculous to worry about things such as modesty now.
He knew something about Evelyn, and she had to know what it was. Perhaps her sister was hurt and needed her.
Taking a deep breath, she flung open the door, finding Sebastian on the other side, his handsome face drawn and troubled.
She stumbled back, her heart dropping to her toes. “I’m s-sorry. I know I’m n-not decent. I just c-couldn’t wait.”
“You look...” He cut himself off and shook his head, tearing his gaze away from her scantily clad body and fixing it on a point over her shoulder. “My lady... Jocelyn... there’s no easy way to say this...”
Something deep inside her seemed to shake apart, and it took her a moment to realize the wail of pain she heard was coming from her own lips. Her legs collapsed, but before she could hit the floor, he scooped her up in his arms, kicking the door shut behind him and carrying her across the room to the sofa, where he sank down, still holding her close.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered into her hair. “I’m so sorry.”
His words just made her cry harder because they finalized what she couldn’t even put into words. The moment she’d seen his face, she’d known.
Evelyn was gone. She was never coming back.
* * *
SEBASTIAN CRADLED THE beautiful, damp, sobbing woman in his arms close, holding her as she cried for the sister she’d lost. He’d never felt so completely inadequate. He hadn’t broken the news to her the way he should have, hadn’t even been able to get the words out before she’d completely fallen apart.