What You Desire (Anything for Love 1)

The first thing he noticed as he strode into the room was that the only source of light came from a pair of silver-gilt candelabras, each standing on the side tables flanking the marble fireplace. The soft glow cast a modicum of illumination over one of his guests.

The lady sat bolt upright in the chair, although there was nothing stately about her posture. On the contrary, she gripped the arms as though she was ready to flee at a moment’s notice. He had seen her pert nose and rosy pink lips before. But now, in place of the broad-rimmed riding hat, were honey-gold tresses swept back in a simple style one would consider both practical and easy to manage. Gone were the breeches and coat, replaced by a dull, mauve dress with not one adornment: no little pearl buttons, no lace edging on the sleeves or collar. She reminded Sebastian of a governess, albeit an extremely pretty one. The type employed by the more unscrupulous of gentlemen for their own particular needs rather than that of their children.

Appearing somewhat uneasy by his assessing gaze, she turned her head towards the window, to the tall figure lurking in the shadows.

“I hope we have not disturbed you, Dane,” the faceless man drawled, his deep voice dripping with sarcasm. “Please tell me you have managed to get some sleep since we last met.”

James Beaufort stepped into the light. His coat was creased and there were dark circles under his eyes.

“I wouldn’t worry about me. You look as though you haven’t slept for days.”

Beaufort gave a weak smile. “More like a week.”

“I can tell just by looking at your clothes,” Sebastian said gesturing to Beaufort’s crumpled attire. Thankfully, the gentleman carried it off with graceful poise and an air of self-assurance that made one overlook such imperfections.

Beaufort’s gaze drifted over him. “You’re hardly one to talk. Your hair looks as though you’ve just tumbled a serving wench in a haystack.”

Sebastian forced a smile but groaned inwardly. “Since you thrust the ruby necklace in my hand, I’ve had a rather exhausting week.”

He was not complaining. It had also been the most exciting, the most enthralling week of his life.

James Beaufort had no idea his sister had followed him to London, and as much as Sebastian wanted to punch him squarely on the chin for leaving such a wild woman alone without a chaperone, the matter of Sophie Beaufort needed to be handled with some delicacy.

James stepped forward and threw his arms around his friend. “It’s been a long time, Dane,” he said patting Sebastian on the back. “You’ve not changed at all. I see you still have that mischievous smile the ladies always loved.” James raised a brow. “Although you really should do something about those bloodshot eyes, they are not very becoming.” He leaned closer and whispered. “Perhaps the answer lies with who, rather than what, has been keeping you awake at night.”

Bloody hell!

James turned to the lady and held out his hand. She rose from the chair, placed her gloveless hand in his and James brought it to his lips, kissing it with a level of tenderness and devotion. Indeed, there was not a single bit of creamy-white skin left untouched.

Feeling a little uncomfortable at such an exaggerated display of sentiment, Sebastian cleared his throat.

“Forgive me,” James said looking up reluctantly. He straightened his back before making his announcement. “My dear, may I present Sebastian Ashcroft, Marquess of Danesfield and my oldest friend. Dane, I would like you to meet my wife, Lady Annabel Beaufort.”

His wife!

A lifetime of aristocratic breeding prevented Sebastian from gaping in shock. Neither did he display any visible signs of anger or irritation. While he had been safeguarding James’ sister from extortion, kidnapping and quite possibly murder, he had been planning a blasted wedding. Instead, he simply bowed and offered his felicitations.

Sebastian gestured towards the sofa and waited for the couple to sit before dropping into the chair by the hearth. The urgency to marry certainly explained their reason for remaining in London and now that the introductions were over, he intended to get some answers regarding the whole affair.

He decided to start with how the hell they knew where to find him.

“I must confess, I’m curious as to how you knew to come here,” Sebastian said. He was equally as curious as to how James had known he was leaving London in the first place. “Surely, when you stopped my carriage, you knew I was heading back to Westlands.”

Before James could answer there was a tap at the door and Mrs. Cox came in with the tea tray. She placed it on the table in front of the sofa. “Would you like me to pour, my lord?”

“No, we shall see to it ourselves,” Sebastian replied abruptly, for he was impatient for answers and feared the woman might mention his female guest. “Thank you, Mrs. Cox,” he added by way of an apology.

“Please, allow me.” Annabel Beaufort did not wait for anyone to contradict and expedited the task with ardent domesticity.

“I didn’t know you’d returned to London until today. I was surprised to see you back so soon. Monty said you were not planning to return for some time,” James began, pausing to take a sip of his tea before returning his cup to the tray.

“Not as surprised as I am.”

“The boy I hired to watch my lodgings told me that a gentleman had called looking for me. Naturally,” James shrugged, “the boy followed the gentleman to this address and he happened to be watching the house this afternoon when you and your friend returned.”

James spoke in such a matter-of-fact tone that Sebastian had to grip the arm of the chair for fear of lashing out. Back so soon? Was he being deliberately obtuse?

“I had little choice in the matter,” Sebastian said bluntly. “The Comte de Dampierre called looking for your necklace.” At present, it was best not to divulge all of the details, but he was overcome with the sudden urge to see his friend squirm.