What You Desire (Anything for Love 1)

“My father had been dead a mere five days when I discovered there were sizable debts written against the estate. The creditors were quick to bang on the door to demand their money. My father’s man of business, a Mr. William Farrow, had kept them at bay by promising a rather inflated rate of interest, which, unfortunately was well documented.” He sighed. “Unlike the small amounts Mr. Farrow had embezzled.” He shook his head as he remembered the crippling feeling of disbelief, of desperation. “I have spent the last six years paying for it.”

Sophie looked aghast. “I do not know what to say. What had your father done with all the money?” she asked before taking another small bite of bread.

Sebastian shrugged. “He spent it on everything and anything. He had a weakness for horse racing, for diamond-encrusted pocket watches, for widows with expensive tastes, on anything to dull the pain, anything to fill the hole left by my mother.”

Sebastian could not be angry with his father. Angry at himself, yes, for not noticing the torment his father was going through. If only he had known, then they could have consoled each other. Perhaps things would have been different.

But then he would not be sitting in his private chamber with Sophie.

“I see,” she said, her eyes awash with sympathy. “And so you were not on the Continent living in lavish surroundings while your tenants struggled to survive.” There was a hint of shame in her tone.

“No, I was working with Dudley. After selling off all that was not nailed down, there was still a deficit. I dismissed Mr. Farrow and employed Dudley Spencer. Which turned into more of a partnership and then a friendship, but that is an extremely long story which I will save for another time.”

“But why did you not say something?” she said with a sigh of exasperation. “You let all but a handful of servants go and so everyone thought you had no interest in Westlands, when really you were trying desperately to save it.”

He looked down into his lap. “I could not bear for others to think badly of my father,” he began, his voice reflecting his anguish. “He was weak. It was not his fault.”

Sophie leaned forward and placed her hand on his. It was smaller and softer, yet it gave him strength. “But you let others think the worst of you,” she said. There was a moment of silence and then she chuckled. “I cannot imagine you working as a man of business. How on earth did you keep it a secret?”

He shook his head. “You misunderstand. The work with Dudley… well, it was of a sensitive nature.”

She absorbed his words and then with wide eyes asked, “You are not working for the government, are you?”

“No, I am not working for the government. But with our connections in Society—” He stopped abruptly and then added, “You know Dudley is the illegitimate son of the Duke of Morton.”

“Is he really? Then why is he working as a man of business?”

“There was some disagreement over whom he should wed. Dudley would prefer to make his own living than to bow down to the demands of a father who has little regard for his personal welfare. Besides, we have done extremely well helping those members of the ton who found themselves in a pickle. Dudley still takes on the odd job here and there. But nothing that would take him away from home.”

She appeared highly amused. “And what possible pickles do the elite of Society find themselves in?”

He shifted further onto the bed, making himself more comfortable. “We were hired by Lord … well, by a certain person who shall remain nameless, to track down his runaway daughter. We found her on the way to Gretna and she was brought back here until we could sneak her home without anyone noticing.” He gave her a smug grin. “Which happened to be in the middle of the night,” he added. “The gentleman put it about that his daughter had been ill with a fever and the rogue in question did not dare to contradict for fear of being shipped off to Calcutta in a crate.”

“How fascinating,” she said, her eyes wide with delight. “Oh, do tell me more, I …” She stopped abruptly. “Do you mean the ladies you escorted home in the middle of the night were clients?”

He turned his hand over so he could hold hers. “Sophie, the only women who have been in this house are the ones associated with our business. I am not saying I have always been a saint in such matters. But the stories you have heard from the gossips in Marchampton or from Amy or from Mrs. Cox, well, they are simply not true.”

“You mean you’re not a reckless rogue?”

“Only where you’re concerned.”

She looked down into her lap. “You must think me naïve and rather foolish.”

“Not at all. I find your jealousy rather endearing,” he replied attempting to lighten the mood.

“Jealousy!” she exclaimed lifting her head to meet his gaze, but then seeing his teasing expression she grinned. “If you believe I’m jealous, then conceit must surely be your middle name.”

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it softly. “While we are in the mood for disclosing secrets, isn’t there something you need to tell me?”

“I am not sure what you mean,” she answered looking a little wary.

Intrigued by such a guarded response, Sebastian wondered if there were other secrets he was not aware of.

“Do not look so frightened,” he said. “I am talking about the reason Madame Labelle insisted on meeting with you. I was convinced Dampierre would make some move to kidnap you and ransom you for the necklace.”

“Would you have paid?” she replied coyly with an exaggerated flutter of her eyelashes.

Sebastian shrugged. “That all depends on how grateful you would have been.” His hungry gaze roamed over her bare shoulders. “Are you going to tell me what was so important that Madame Labelle insisted on meeting with you in public? Did she remember something about James?”