“Scandalous!” her mother had informed her, when she found out. “Disgraceful! Martin, did you know about this?” Since it was Martin who had taken over Patrick’s affairs his mother blamed him for the situation.
Martin had blustered. “Lavinia wouldn’t listen. You know what she’s like, Mother.”
“What does it matter anyway?” Lavinia had said. “Who is there to care? I am hidden away in mourning.”
And the man I loved is now forbidden to me.
She’d had her way, they’d left her alone, but now everything was about to change. She was returning to her place in Society for the sake of her son’s future, and her family were riding on the Richmond coat-tails. All these years they had been miserably poor with only their illustrious past to sustain them, and now they had their sights set on a bright new future.
Martin had continued the allowance given to her mother by Patrick, and taken one for himself—payment for his services, he’d said. Previously Lavinia had been too bound up in her own grief to ask him questions, but she knew she should be asking them now. She had fully intended to, but since her visit to the theatre two days ago, she was finding it difficult to focus her thoughts on anything but Sebastian and the beautiful courtesan.
She brushed her fingers over her son’s chubby cheek, smiling into his ocean blue eyes. Sebastian’s eyes. Would anyone else notice? Patrick’s eyes had been blue too. She suspected that if Patrick had lived he would have completely ignored Oliver’s parentage.
When her son was born, when she looked at Patrick across the baby’s head, she’d wondered what she would see there. An acknowledgement that this was not his flesh and blood? Beaming paternal pride? Instead she had seen something hot and angry. Patrick was burning up inside, he was full of jealous rage. She had seen that rage again when Sebastian came to visit and Patrick had warned him away.
If Patrick had lived, would he have been able to overcome his feelings, and love his son as he should be loved? Lavinia knew that no matter what she would have had to continue playing her part as the loving wife and mother. Perhaps it would have grown easier as the years went by.
Perhaps, but she didn’t think so.
Every single day she’d have felt as if she was living a lie, and that at any moment it would all come undone. That someone would find out the truth, or she would give herself away. And then she began to wish that someone would discover the truth. Because then she could walk away from Patrick’s house of cards and go to the man she was aching for so desperately.
When the news was brought to her that Patrick
was dead, in that instant, she had been relieved. Even as guilt swamped her, and she felt disgusted with herself, there had been no denying it. Some secret part of her was glad because the pretence was at an end, and she and Sebastian could be together. And then when she learned he was injured and dying, it felt like a judgment upon her. She was an evil woman and now she would end up with neither man, and it served her right.
After Martin had spoken to her at the hospital, when she learned what Sebastian had done, then her punishment had been complete. She could never allow Sebastian back into her life again, not in the way she had dreamed. They must spend their lives apart and alone, and that was exactly how it should be.
“My lady?”
She hadn’t noticed the maid hovering in the doorway.
“There is a gentleman here to speak with you. I did not know if you were at home to him or not?”
“What gentleman? Did he send a card?”
The maid shook her head and Lavinia could see she was a little bemused by the gentleman in question.
“Who is it then?” she asked with impatience.
“Captain Longhurst, ma’am.”
Lavinia looked away. Her hands were shaking but she clenched her fists. She didn’t want to see him. It was too soon after their last meeting.
“What does he want?” she asked herself but the maid answered her.
“He won’t say, my lady.”
“Then tell him I am indisposed.”
The maid curtseyed and disappeared, and Lavinia breathed a sigh of relief. What could he want from her? After the theatre she had spent a restless night imagining him with that courtesan, kissing her and fondling her, doing all the things he had done with her. It seemed she was really a very selfish person because although Lavinia knew she couldn’t have him, nor did she want anyone else to.
The maid was back. “I’m sorry, my lady, but he is insisting you see him. I-I told him you were indisposed but he said it is very important he speaks to you and it cannot wait until you are . . . more willing.”
The girl’s face was flushed and she fidgeted uneasily. It seemed that Sebastian was determined to have his way.
He was being a bully, Lavinia told herself, and she should refuse and sent him away, but at the same time she was aware that she could no longer hide from him. She’d hidden at Monkstead’s and then the night at the theatre, scurrying away, refusing to face him. Being a coward. Hadn’t she decided that she needed to be braver?
Perhaps Sebastian still believed she would change her mind about opening her heart to him? Well, it was time she told him that was never going to happen.