Calder Promise (Calder Saga 8)

For a split second Tara froze at the sight of him. “Sebastian. I didn’t know you were here.” Her voice was unexpectedly cool with challenge. It matched the tilt of her chin and the veiled censure in her gaze.

“I came by to see if Laura wanted to go for a morning canter tomorrow,” he explained with a smoothness that Laura wanted to applaud.

There was no doubt in her mind that she looked as if she had just been thoroughly kissed, which she had. And she wasn’t the least bit embarrassed about it.

“Naturally I told him he could count on me,” Laura said. “Would you like to ride along, Tara?”

“I’ll see how I feel in the morning,” she replied, effectively dismissing the topic as she once again fixed her dark gaze on Sebastian. “I need to speak to Laura. Would you mind?”

“Not at all,” he assured her and glanced at Laura. “Good night”

“Good night. I’ll see you in the morning,” she said with regret.

“In your riding clothes,” Sebastian added, throwing her a smile before nodding to Tara and moving past her into the hall.

With deliberation, Tara closed the door behind him, paused, then turned to face Laura, her expression one of thoughtful study. Laura sensed at once that something was wrong. It put her on guard. Disguising her unrest with an air of normalcy, she walked over to Tara and turned, presenting her back. “Unzip me, will you?”

After a slight hesitation, Tara lowered the zipper, and Laura moved away, stepping out of the dress as she went. Clad only in her slip and underclothes, she crossed to the bed and slipped off her shoes.

“You said you needed to talk to me,” she prompted when Tara remained silent. “Did my mother call?”

“No. As far as I know, everything is fine there. I need to speak to you about something else.” Tara moved into the room and walked directly toward the cozy sitting area. “Let’s sit down over here.”

“This sounds serious,” Laura remarked in a deliberately light tone, noting that Tara seemed uncertain about how to bring up the subject she wanted to discuss.

“I don’t know whether ‘serious’ is the particular word I would use. But I do think it could be important.” Tara sat down in one of the plumply cushioned armchairs and waited for Laura to join her.

Laura curled up in a twin to it. “Important how?”

“That remains to be seen,” Tara replied, hedging again. “You see, some information has come to my attention.”

Suddenly several seemingly unrelated items solidified into one in Laura’s mind. “If I had to guess, I’d say that Max is the source of your information.”

Surprise flickered ever so briefly in Tara’s expression at the astuteness of Laura’s statement. It was quickly followed by a look of admiration and approval.

“As a matter of fact, he is,” Tara admitted. “Obviously I haven’t had an opportunity to verify anything he told me. At the same time, I have no reason to believe it isn’t true.”

Something else clicked into place. “It’s about Sebastian, isn’t it? I remember that Max didn’t look at all surprised when Sebastian told us he was the current earl of Crawford.”

“Really? I didn’t notice.” Nor was it of much interest to Tara at the moment. “It seems that Sebastian inherited the title after his older brother was killed in a plane crash this past winter. At the time, there was already a sizable mortgage on the property, a debt incurred by his brother in order to raise sufficient money to pay the taxes that came due when he inherited the title from their father. Sebastian is now facing a similar tax obligation—and few ways to satisfy it. Unless he can lay his hands on a very large sum of money in a very short period of time, it is likely he will have to sell all, or a major portion, of the estate to satisfy it.”

Laura absorbed the sobering information without comment. She knew there was more, or Tara wouldn’t be having this conversation with her.

“To be honest, Laura,” Tara sat forward, clasping her hands together in an earnest pose, “Max thinks it’s possible that Sebastian might be desperate enough to marry someone—anyone—with money. And he’s concerned that Sebastian might have set his sights on you.”

“What do you think?” Laura asked, stalling for time while she tried to understand her own reaction to the information.

“I think it’s entirely possible that he has,” Tara replied frankly. “But I also know that you are much too intelligent to be taken in by a fortune hunter.”

But the unsolicited vote of confidence didn’t make Laura feel better. Suddenly tense and restless, she surrendered to the need for action and rose from the chair. Resisting the urge to pace, she walked over to the bed and picked up the dress she had flung onto it.

“I wonder what he was doing in Rome,” she mused aloud, as she slipped the dress on a hanger and carried it to the wardrobe closet. “Do you suppose he went there to see if the contessa would loan him the money?”

“Who’s to say?” Tara shrugged off the question. “If he did, I doubt that he was successful. The count is notoriously tightfisted, and the contessa has very little funds of her own.”

Laura had no reason to question the certainty in Tara’s voice. Tara was rarely wrong about such things. And it was unlikely that Max was, either.

“Are you all right, Laura?”