An Unlikely Alliance (14 page)

Sebastian was still staring at her
disappearing figure when Nicholas cleared his throat.

"Catching a cold, my friend?" Sebastian
teased.

Nicholas shook his head in warning at
Sebastian's obvious interest in his wife.

Sebastian grinned. "I was just taking in the
beauty of the only woman who was brave enough to shackle you."

Nicholas grunted. "Be that as it may, I
would like you to keep your appreciation of my wife's many charms
to yourself, if it's not too much to ask."

Sebastian chuckled. He'd always liked
Nicholas. Correction, he loved Nicholas. They were like brothers.
It still pained Sebastian that he hadn't been in the country when
Nicholas had been going through such a rough time in his life. The
guilt, although small, still ate at him when he thought of not
being able to offer the support Nicholas had so obviously
needed.

Sara was apparently the balm he had needed
to his soul, and for that reason, Sebastian would always be
grateful. Because the woman had brought back the man he had always
admired, brought him back straight from the grave.

"So," Nicholas said, walking over to the
liquor cabinet. "You need a wife?"

Sebastian took a seat on the nearest chair,
trying his best not to laugh at his friend's bluntness. "You could
say that." He had been searching for a future duchess for many
weeks now, but no woman in his acquaintance even held a candle to
the beauty of Nicholas's wife, or to her spirit. It was going to be
deuced hard to find a woman who would hold Sebastian's
attention.

As if reading his thoughts, Nicholas
interjected, "You can't have my wife, so I would greatly appreciate
you wiping that ridiculous grin off of your ducal face before I
lose my patience. Considering, she is firmly out of your grasp, to
your utter sadness, I can see." Nicholas shook his head. "I believe
I am more than capable of helping you find a woman who caters to
your…needs."

"They're so young," Sebastian groaned,
ignoring Nicholas's warning speech. "And boring, and although I am
painfully aware I do not need to continue to complain, have you
seen what I'm up against out there? Vultures, all of them. Say, why
don't you and Sara just pick one?"

"Just pick one?" Nicholas repeated slowly,
raising his eyes heavenward. "You are aware we are not out shopping
for horseflesh but attempting to find you a future duchess? Do keep
that in mind, old friend."

"It's the only thing on my mind," Sebastian
said, greedily taking the glass of brandy from Nicholas's hand.

Lifting his eyes, he scanned his old friend.
Nature had been good to Nicholas. Then again nature had been good
to both of them. Each of them were in their early thirties, but
neither of them looked a day over twenty-five.

In his rakish days,
Nicholas had had many of the mamas of the
ton
hiding their daughters from his
penetrating gaze. Some said that a look from Nicholas would cause
even married women to sway. His appearance was positively sinful.
Everything about him was dark, from his hair to his black as night
brows. The only light on his face seemed to come from the icy blue
of his eyes. It was assumed that associating with Nicholas would
cause any woman to sin or worse, send them to Hell. Sebastian never
had that issue with women. While women were captivated and a bit
frightened of Nicholas, they were mesmerized by
Sebastian.

While Nicholas had been labeled as sinful,
Sebastian had been labeled as beautiful.

Far too beautiful, if you asked him.

In fact if another woman called him
beautiful, he was going to inflict pain on someone, or something.
It was blasted hard being a beautiful man, not that it hadn't given
him some pleasure in his earlier years.

While Nicholas walked around with his
devilishly dark features, Sebastian had always strolled around with
a glowing effect to his features. Add in his dimples and all around
joyful attitude and voila, a perfect recipe for young debutantes
and forward mamas.

It obviously had never occurred to any of
the females in Sebastian's acquaintance how blatantly rude they
were being when they literally could not find the strength to tear
their eyes away. In fact, many women thought he wanted to be called
beautiful, but as a man, the last thing he wanted to be labeled
with was the same word he used to seduce women.

Sebastian took a long sip of brandy and
sighed.

The sigh was not lost on Nicholas, who right
away started pouring him another drink.

"You do realize it's not as if I have to
marry for a purpose other than presenting an heir," Sebastian
complained mostly to himself, although Nicholas gave him a head nod
to acknowledge he was listening to the lamentation pouring forth
from Sebastian's lips. "Furthermore, I don't see why every single
debutante has to be so stupid."

"Here, here," Nicholas said, lifting his
glass. "I do understand."

"Spare me." Sebastian shook his head in
protest. "At least you have a beautiful wife to dote on whose voice
doesn't shriek the way some girls do."

Sebastian felt a sudden headache coming on.
What he needed was an arranged marriage where he could get an heir
and also have a mistress on the side, but those days, as he told
Nicholas, were well behind him. And although he would die before
admitting it, he did want to get married. Call it curiosity or
maybe insanity, but he felt it was time to settle down and actually
have a family, a real family. He owed his parents at least that
much.

Sebastian watched Nicholas as he went and
looked out the window. The poor man probably had a terrible time
keeping his hands off his wife. What would it be like to have a
companion you both lusted after and loved? His mind was incapable
of imagining it.

A maid entered, carrying a note. Nicholas
offered an apology before stepping out of the room, leaving
Sebastian alone with his thoughts.

Sighing, he leaned his head back against the
chair, all the while swirling the amber liquid around his glass. It
wasn't that he considered himself an unhappy man. Indeed he felt
content and overall satisfied with his life. Women often commented
on his optimistic demeanor, thinking it a ruse to get them into
bed. But to Sebastian it had always seemed that most men wasted
valuable time being upset or angry when they had it within their
capabilities to fix their situation in the first place. Was life
not meant to be lived to the fullest?

Most of his existence had been less than
charmed. In fact, if anyone had anything to be bitter about, it was
Sebastian. He had inherited his title at the early age of one and
seven.

Both of his parents had died in a carriage
accident, leaving his grandmother to finish raising him on her own.
If one could call bossing the staff around on how to treat the Duke
of Tempest raising.

He did love his grandmother. It wasn't her
fault his parents had died, nor was it his, as she had reminded him
that fateful day.

"
Sebastian, my boy, you could not help what
happened
," she had said, petting his
yellow curls. "It is in the Lord's hands, dear boy. Bad things
happen, and we must trust in Him."

He still had trouble processing his
grandmother's wise words. He knew them to be astute, but that
didn't make them easy for him to put into practice. In fact, she
had a horrible time dealing with him. It was no wonder she was
constantly bossing everyone around trying to gain some semblance of
control over her defiant grandson.

But he had been mourning. Men struggle
trying to understand why things happen the way they do. Adolescents
who are not yet fully grown have an even more difficult time,
especially when it's their fault the people they loved the most in
the world had to perish. He took another sip of brandy as a
melancholy fog rested on his broad shoulders.

He hadn't thought about his childhood in a
long while. He must have drunk more brandy than he originally
imagined. Then again, Nicholas was good at refilling his glass when
he was brooding. Something Sebastian was hardly ever guilty of.

Maybe his grandmother could shed some light
on his marriage situation. After all she was the one breathing hot
coals down his neck about reformation and forgiveness. It wasn't
even as if he had lived such a terribly rakish life. In fact he was
known as the angel duke by quite a few of the gentry. It wasn't
necessarily his heavenly and joyous demeanor, though it did seem to
help. No, in truth he had been given the title after rescuing a
small girl from near death. It also didn't hurt that people had a
hard time attaching any sort of scandal to his name. Oh he had done
his fair share of taking mistresses and sowing wild outs across the
continent, he was just remarkably talented at keeping people quiet,
giving more credence to his reputation that no woman could seduce
him.

He'd like to see them try.

The one woman ever close to succeeding only
did so because she was foolish enough to make it her goal for an
entire year, and even then he knew what she was about, finally
giving in just so the poor thing wouldn't run headfirst into the
nearest street.

Unfortunately it was becoming clearer as he
aged that women were easy to read and extremely similar in their
dispositions. Having a wife would be, in his mind, akin to having a
nice pet. A creature you dress up when it was time for fancy
dinners and reproduce with to gain an heir. Anything outside of
that was relatively pointless. He had his gentleman friends for
lively conversation and his grandmother for nagging.

Yes, although part of him was jealous of
Nicholas's good luck, another part of him was terrified he would
find someone who had the ability to take such a strong hold on his
heart that he would be in constant terror of losing her. Such a
woman did not exist, and even if she did, she was probably boring
and ugly, leaving him to feel again quite good about his decision
to let Nicholas help him pick out a bride.

Although Nicholas had been joking, it was
quite like picking out a horse. He needed to leave his heart out of
it and use his head. What he required was a young happy woman who
would bear his children and be a good duchess.

What he should do was write a list. Yes, a
list explaining the characteristics he required of his future
bride. Surely it would help Nicholas out.

Getting up, he walked around to the large
desk and sat in the chair. He heard a tiny giggle. Pausing, he
looked around the room and shrugged. Must be his imagination.

And then something grasped his leg. A loud
curse escaped his mouth, echoing through the room.

"My father says that's a dirty word. Is it a
dirty word, your grace?" interrupted a smaller version of his old
friend, hiding beneath the desk with mud on his face and some sort
of jelly on his fingers.

Perfect, he only hoped he wasn't acting as
the child's napkin.

"Does your dad use that word?" Sebastian
fired back with a question of his own.

The little boy giggled then crooked his
finger for Sebastian to lean closer. Like an idiot, he fell for the
trick just as the little boy's hands firmly grasped the crisp folds
of his cravat. "My daddy says not to tell my mama. Sometimes he
says it when he is angry. Like the time I brought a frog to church.
That was fun!"

You know what else is fun? Washing one's
hands.

"There you are!" Nicholas said from the
doorway.

Samuel sunk behind the desk again. Sebastian
closed his eyes, hoping the jelly stains on his perfectly white
cravat would somehow disappear as well.

"Samuel." Nicholas's voice took a warning
edge, making Sebastian feel the need to adjust the cravat for more
air. Devil take it, even he started to sweat when he heard
Nicholas's voice turn threatening. Sebastian stole a glance at
Samuel, who shook his head and crossed his arms.

Not the wisest of choices, young fellow.

Instead of taking the smart option of
apologizing, the boy decided to take the road less traveled and
ran.

Bless him, he didn't get far. Nicholas's
trained hands darted out and grabbed the boy's shirttails just as
he was passing the doorframe. He let out a screech so
mind-blowingly loud that Sebastian was convinced hearing loss would
soon follow.

Fully caught red handed, or in Samuels case
jelly handed, he did what any young boy of his age would do.

He smiled.

And Sebastian's heart clenched.

How Nicholas could even punish the young
cherub was beyond him. Yet Nicholas did just that, giving the boy a
firm, yet loving, sit down. At the end of the lecture he demanded
Samuel apologize to Sebastian.

Just don't turn those giant blue eyes on
me.

And the boy circled toward him. Alligator
tears slowly dripping down his red cheeks.

Deliver me, Lord.

"Y-y-your grace?"

Sebastian got down on one knee and put out
his hand for Samuel to shake. It seemed even at a young age boys
knew how often things were fixed by the firm shaking of one's hand.
His face immediately brightened as he shook Sebastian's hand then
saluted him as if he was royalty.

He had no option but to salute back.

Samuel ran off, leaving Sebastian's face
still in a smile, until he met Nicholas's brooding gaze.

"Uh, it was nothing." Sebastian dismissed
him with a wave of his hand.

"He shouldn't be spying," Nicholas
clipped.

"He's a boy."

"Don't encourage him."

"Don't discourage him from being so
carefree. Boys should grow up to be—"

"I'm sorry, it sounded as if the Duke of
Tempest, sworn bachelor, was just contemplating giving me parenting
advice." Nicholas lifted an eyebrow in shock.