There was a moment of silence while they all appeared to consider his words.
“But … but you know what it will mean if we are caught,” James stammered.
“We will not hang if that’s what you’re implying,” Sebastian countered.
Sebastian’s words were met with a sharp intake of breath. He looked to the sofa, to Annabel, who was sitting with her hand plastered to her mouth, and to Sophie, who appeared to be listening intently and did not seem the least bit alarmed by his callous words.
Sophie would make an excellent marchioness, he thought. They would have strong sons and spirited daughters. The more, the merrier. He doubted he would be able to keep his hands off her once he had her all to himself.
“Besides, we will all have an alibi,” Sebastian added with a look of smug satisfaction. “Dampierre has been kind enough to provide us with the perfect opportunity.”
As his gaze met Sophie’s, she was looking back at him with some fascination. “You mean we are to attend the masquerade ball after all?” Her speech was slow and deliberate, almost seductive, stimulating the fine hairs on his nape and he was forced to divert his thoughts away from a more intimate direction and refocus on the task at hand.
“I have never been to a masquerade,” Annabel added dreamily. Obviously, it had not occurred to her that the whole reason for attending was to commit murder.
“Believe me, they are over-rated,” Sebastian replied with a lack of enthusiasm. “There is nothing remotely exciting about dancing with someone who has the hands of a temptress, only to discover at midnight they have the face of a duck.”
He walked over to the side table, poured himself a brandy, lifted an empty glass and gestured to James, who nodded.
Taking the drink, James drained the glass and handed it back to Sebastian. “If you’re serious about this, then I cannot allow the ladies to attend,” James said shaking his head and ignoring Annabel’s disgruntled sigh.
It was as though Sebastian had just received another blow to the stomach, a fatal wound to his masculine pride. In his opinion, Sophie was his responsibility. The thought of any other man, even her own brother, laying claim to her, controlling her …
The woman in question rose from her seat, walked over to the hearth to stand at his side. She folded her arms across her chest and the simple act of defiance caused his heart to swell.
“I’m afraid I must attend,” she began, her words short and clipped. “Dampierre has given specific instructions and he will know if I am not there. I believe I can distract him sufficiently in order to get the deed done.”
“It is not your choice to make,” James replied arrogantly.
Sebastian was suddenly relieved he was only a spectator in this bout. But he knew who he would put his money on.
Moving her hands to her hips, Sophie arched a brow. “I have entertained the Comte de Dampierre in your study,” she said fiercely. “I have stared into his lifeless eyes, felt his cold, clammy hands on my skin. I have felt the tip of his sword against my throat.”
Sebastian stiffened. “You did not tell me about that,” he whispered through clenched teeth. He wondered what else she had omitted to tell him.
“So,” she continued haughtily. “I think I have earned the right to decide what is best. It is my choice and mine alone.”
As James shot to his feet, the chair close to tipping over with the force, Sebastian could not decide if his tortured expression was due to anger or shame.
Stepping forward, Sebastian placed a hand on his friends arm. “Before you say anything more, there is something I wish to discuss with you. Shall we step outside?”
Sebastian stepped in between them and James tilted his head to glare at his sister, before allowing Sebastian to steer him from the room.
As soon as they stepped out into the hall and closed the drawing room door, James whirled around to confront Sebastian. “If you are going to berate me for the way I have treated my own sister then do not bother,” James admonished with an element of vehemence, which Sebastian suspected was not entirely aimed at him and stemmed from a feeling of guilt. “Nothing you could say could possibly make me feel worse than I do at this moment,” he added, shoving his hand through his hair.
In response, Sebastian simply said, “Good.”
“How the hell was I to know Dampierre would travel all the way to Brampton Hall?”
“She could have been killed,” Sebastian replied with a low growl. The thought caused a searing pain in his chest. “She could have been the one locked in the room of that brothel.” Although knowing Sophie, she would have rallied all the girls together and found a way to take down Dampierre.
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“Do you think I don’t know that,” James spat as he paced back and forth. “But you saw for yourself, she is so damn stubborn.”
Sebastian grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him further down the hall. “She is not safe until we dispose of Dampierre,” he whispered.
James appeared distressed. “It is one thing to unwittingly place someone you care for in danger, but to do so knowingly — you cannot ask that of me.”