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because of that delay, so they were happy to take on Margaret and her entourage. Even her coach was quickly hefted aboard. Before she knew it, they were sailing out into the channel.
Come what may, Margaret had made her bargain. She just hoped she wouldn’t live to regret bringing Sebastian Townshend home to England.
Chapter 8
S EBASTIAN CONSIDERED MOST OF THE JOBS he took rather easy, despite how difficult they might appear at first. Apply a little English logic, perhaps a military approach if needed, and voilà, he’d pick up his substantial fees. But for Sebastian there was nothing easy about crossing the channel into English waters.
Standing on the deck of the ship that was taking him back to his homeland brought it all back, the horror of killing his best friend, the surprise on Giles’s face as he dropped to the ground. It was still so vivid in his mind. He’d had so many nightmares about that day that changed his life so drastically. So many times he’d wondered if he could have done something differently to prevent it.
Fall was ending and the chill of winter was already creeping in, particularly out on the water. He could feel the damp chill even under his greatcoat, which flapped in the wind on the deck. He didn’t like traveling in winter, didn’t like his ruins at this time of the year either.
He usually took a sojourn during these months in southern France or Italy. It wasn’t necessary for him to work year-round with the fees he commanded. In another few days he would have departed northern France, and Margaret Landor probably wouldn’t have heard of The Raven. She would have continued on her way home alone—to find what, when she got there?
He frowned and glanced at her farther down the deck, where she stood gazing out to sea as well.
The late afternoon sun added golden highlights to her light brown hair. He’d rather not have found out how pretty that looked.
She’d been wearing a bonnet earlier, but the wind had caught it and whipped it across the deck and over the railing on the other side. The face she’d made as she watched it fly beyond her reach had been rather amusing. And she hadn’t gone to fetch another bonnet, despite the brisk wind playing havoc with her hair.
When the last of her chignon tumbled down and her long hair was flying every which way, she’d simply grasped the lot of it in her fist and held it tightly to her chest. That wasn’t how most vain, aristocratic women behaved, which was rather odd. Most ladies were concerned with their appearance at all times, but apparently Margaret wasn’t one of them.
He’d hoped to avoid discourse with Lady Margaret for most of their short journey. She seemed to prefer it that way. But there was pertinent information he needed from her before they reached home, a few things he had to impart to her as well. He approached her now to get it over with.
“You may not have considered this,” he said, drawing her attention, “but my presence will need to remain unknown for several days while I ascertain the situation. The only way to do that is to abide in your house, with your servants sworn to secrecy, in case any of them happen to recognize me. I assume you will accommodate us?”
She was frowning by the time he finished. He guessed she hadn’t planned on putting them up, had possibly thought her involvement was done. Bring him home and leave the rest to him, as it were.
She took a moment, he supposed to grasp all the implications of having a bachelor as a guest, then surprisingly didn’t offer a single argument about it. “Certainly,” she said. “You should remember White Oaks. You were there for my sister’s engagement party.”
He wondered at her sudden blush, until he remembered the last time he’d seen her. “Yes,” he replied. “As I recall, it had a nice garden.”
Her blush deepened and was accompanied by a glare now. He nearly laughed. Apparently proper Margaret Landor would rather not remember how
Come what may, Margaret had made her bargain. She just hoped she wouldn’t live to regret bringing Sebastian Townshend home to England.
Chapter 8
S EBASTIAN CONSIDERED MOST OF THE JOBS he took rather easy, despite how difficult they might appear at first. Apply a little English logic, perhaps a military approach if needed, and voilà, he’d pick up his substantial fees. But for Sebastian there was nothing easy about crossing the channel into English waters.
Standing on the deck of the ship that was taking him back to his homeland brought it all back, the horror of killing his best friend, the surprise on Giles’s face as he dropped to the ground. It was still so vivid in his mind. He’d had so many nightmares about that day that changed his life so drastically. So many times he’d wondered if he could have done something differently to prevent it.
Fall was ending and the chill of winter was already creeping in, particularly out on the water. He could feel the damp chill even under his greatcoat, which flapped in the wind on the deck. He didn’t like traveling in winter, didn’t like his ruins at this time of the year either.
He usually took a sojourn during these months in southern France or Italy. It wasn’t necessary for him to work year-round with the fees he commanded. In another few days he would have departed northern France, and Margaret Landor probably wouldn’t have heard of The Raven. She would have continued on her way home alone—to find what, when she got there?
He frowned and glanced at her farther down the deck, where she stood gazing out to sea as well.
The late afternoon sun added golden highlights to her light brown hair. He’d rather not have found out how pretty that looked.
She’d been wearing a bonnet earlier, but the wind had caught it and whipped it across the deck and over the railing on the other side. The face she’d made as she watched it fly beyond her reach had been rather amusing. And she hadn’t gone to fetch another bonnet, despite the brisk wind playing havoc with her hair.
When the last of her chignon tumbled down and her long hair was flying every which way, she’d simply grasped the lot of it in her fist and held it tightly to her chest. That wasn’t how most vain, aristocratic women behaved, which was rather odd. Most ladies were concerned with their appearance at all times, but apparently Margaret wasn’t one of them.
He’d hoped to avoid discourse with Lady Margaret for most of their short journey. She seemed to prefer it that way. But there was pertinent information he needed from her before they reached home, a few things he had to impart to her as well. He approached her now to get it over with.
“You may not have considered this,” he said, drawing her attention, “but my presence will need to remain unknown for several days while I ascertain the situation. The only way to do that is to abide in your house, with your servants sworn to secrecy, in case any of them happen to recognize me. I assume you will accommodate us?”
She was frowning by the time he finished. He guessed she hadn’t planned on putting them up, had possibly thought her involvement was done. Bring him home and leave the rest to him, as it were.
She took a moment, he supposed to grasp all the implications of having a bachelor as a guest, then surprisingly didn’t offer a single argument about it. “Certainly,” she said. “You should remember White Oaks. You were there for my sister’s engagement party.”
He wondered at her sudden blush, until he remembered the last time he’d seen her. “Yes,” he replied. “As I recall, it had a nice garden.”
Her blush deepened and was accompanied by a glare now. He nearly laughed. Apparently proper Margaret Landor would rather not remember how
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