would he.
Seb was not a fool, though, and he knew that the Ladies Vickers, Challis, and whichever else of their cronies were in attendance would be cheering on Lord Newbury in the battle for Annabel. The most successful wars were never fought alone, so he dragged Edward out of bed and tossed him in the carriage to Berkshire. Edward hadn’t been invited, but he was young, unmarried, and as far as Sebastian knew, in possession of all of his teeth. Which meant that he would never be turned away from a country house party. Never.
“Do Harry and Olivia know you’ve stolen their carriage?” Edward asked, rubbing his eyes.
“The correct term is commandeered, and yes, they know.” Sort of. Sebastian had left a note.
“Who’s going to be there?” Edward yawned.
“Cover your mouth.”
Edward gave him a dirty look.
Sebastian lifted his chin as he peered impatiently out the window. The street was crowded, and the carriage was moving along at crawl. “Besides Miss Winslow and my uncle, I have no idea.”
“Miss Winslow,” Edward said with a sigh.
“Don’t,” Seb snapped.
“What?”
“Don’t make that face when you’re thinking about her.”
“What face?”
“The one where you—” Seb went all stupid-eyed and let his tongue wag out the side of mouth. “That one.”
“Well, you must admit, she’s very—”
“Don’t say it,” Seb warned.
“I was going to say charming,” Edward informed him.
“You were not.”
“She has very nice—”
“Edward!”
“—eyes.” Edward gave a smirky smile.
Sebastian glared at him, crossed his arms, and looked out the window. Then he uncrossed his arms, glared at Edward once more for good measure, and kicked him.
“What was that for?”
“For whatever inappropriate comment you were about to make.”
Edward burst out laughing. And for once, Seb did not feel that he was being laughedwith . This was definitely a laughingat .
“I have to say,” Edward opined, “it’s really rather amusing that you should fall in love with the woman your uncle wants to marry.”
Sebastian shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I’m not in love with her.”
“No,” Edward said mockingly, “you just want to marry her.”
“Olivia told you?” Damn it, he’d told Olivia not to say anything.
“She did not,” Edward said with a grin. “But you did.”
“Whelp,” Seb muttered.
“Do you think she’ll say yes?”
“Why wouldn’t she say yes?” Sebastian said defensively.
“Don’t misunderstand, were I a woman, I can think of no one else I’d prefer to marry—”
“I believe I speak for men across the world when I say that I am relieved that that is not a consideration.”
Edward pulled a face at the insult but took no offense. “Newbury can make her a countess,” he reminded.
“I might be able to,” Seb muttered.
“I thought you didn’t care about the earldom.”
“I don’t.” And he didn’t. Except maybe now he did. “Not for myself, anyway.”
Edward shrugged, his head tilting ever so slightly to the side. There was something familiar about the motion, something Sebastian could not quite place.
Until he realized it was a bit like looking into the mirror.
“She hates him,” he blurted out.
Edward yawned. “She wouldn’t be the first woman to marry a man she hated.”
“He’s three times her age.”
“Again, not the first.”
Seb finally threw out his hands in frustration. “Why are you saying all of this?”
Edward’s face grew serious. “I merely believe in being prepared.”
“So you think she will say no.”
“Honestly, I have no idea. I’ve never even seen the two of you in the same room. But I would rather see you pleasantly surprised than heartbroken.”
“My heart won’t be broken,” Seb grumbled. Because she wasn’t going to say no. She’d told him she couldn’t think clearly in his presence. If ever a woman wanted to say yes to a proposal of marriage it was Annabel.
But was wanting to say yes enough? Her grandparents would not be happy if she chose him over Newbury. And he knew that she was extremely concerned about her family’s lack of money. But surely she would not forsake her own happiness to gain them a few coins. It wasn’t as if they were teetering on the verge of the poorhouse. They couldn’t be, not with her brothers still in school. And Sebastian had money. Not as much as Newbury—oh very well, not even close—but he had some. Certainly enough to pay for her brothers’ education.
Annabel likely did not know that, though. Most of society thought him an entertaining mooch. Even Harry thought he ate breakfast every day with the Valentines because he couldn’t afford food of his own.
Sebastian owed his place in society to his good looks and charm. And because there was always the possibility his uncle would die before begetting a new heir. But no one thought Sebastian had any form of income. Certainly no one suspected that he had earned a tidy sum penning gothic novels under a woman’s name.
Once the carriage escaped the snarled traffic of London, Edward fell right asleep. And stayed that way until they pulled up in front of Stonecross, the large Tudor manor that served as one of the Challis country seats. As Seb alighted, he found himself studying his surroundings with a careful eye.
It almost felt as if he were back in the war, scouting locations, watching the players. That was what he did. He observed. He had never been one of the soldiers at the front. He had never engaged in hand-to-hand combat, never looked the enemy in the eye. He had been removed from the action, always watching, taking his shots from afar.
And he never missed.
He had the two qualities found in all great snipers—excellent aim and endless patience. He took no shot unless it was perfect, and he never lost his head. Even the time Harry had been nearly killed, approached from behind by a French captain, Sebastian had held himself perfectly still. He’d watched, and waited, and he did not take the shot until the time was right. Harry had never known how close he had come to death.
Sebastian had vomited in the bushes.
