Read Online Something Dangerous (Spoils of Time 02) by Penny Vincenzi - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Penny Vincenzi
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meal which she had cooked, the friends had all left and she told him that she did seem to find herself also in love, and if he was still of the same persuasion, then she would be extraordinarily happy. Sebastian woke in the morning in her bed, her small body with its almost alarming capacity for pleasure coiled against his; he asked her to marry him later that day and she accepted.
That had been the simple, straightforward part.
Of course he had known Celia would be upset. He had expected it all: the icy disdain, the anger, the hurt. It was why he had put off telling her for weeks, why he chose – cowardly, for one of the few times in his life – to break the news on the twins’ birthday, when she was in determinedly family mood, when Oliver would be benignly present, when he thought that with luck, LM would be there too, with her level, calm courtesy. He had not expected the party to be over, the house emptied so soon of distraction. But still – it had been done. Oliver’s insistence on the celebratory champagne was unfortunate; but it had distracted attention, notionally at least, from the spilt wine and Celia’s rage at having spilt it. They had somehow got through the hour or so it required for courtesy to release him again, and return, exhausted, to his own house. He had hardly slept the rest of the night; when he did, he dreamed, fretful, sorrowful dreams and woke more than once to find himself weeping. In the morning he felt better: simply knowing that it had been done. And then he had discovered it had not been done quite as successfully as he had hoped.
‘Of course I want to meet her,’ Celia said, smiling at him brilliantly across her office desk a few days later, ‘I can hardly wait. We must arrange it as soon as we can. I will talk to Oliver and see if we can find an evening when we are both free. It’s just that we are extremely busy at the moment, the twins’ season is so hectic, you know, I have a lot of extra entertaining to do, and a lot of country house parties, and then there’s Ascot and—’
‘Celia,’ said Sebastian, keeping his voice level with an effort, ‘Celia, we are not asking for an elaborate visit. A dinner, just the four of us, will do, so that you can—’
‘Oh, Sebastian, don’t be absurd. You never did have the faintest idea about running a household. Even the smallest dinner has to be planned; and I would certainly not want Pandora to feel less than properly welcomed. I want her to meet the entire family, naturally, nothing else would be acceptable to me, and that inevitably requires organisation—’
‘It would be perfectly acceptable to us,’ said Sebastian firmly, ‘a quiet evening, I mean, or I could even bring her to Lyttons—’ He stopped; he could see she had not liked the ‘us’.
‘No, Sebastian. I could not possibly agree to that. And certainly I don’t want her brought to Lyttons. Now give me a week or two and I will find a date.’
The week, and then two, passed; dates were even proposed and then cancelled, changed and then changed again. Apologetic notes were written, elaborate explanations offered; Pandora was first amused then irritated.
‘It’s absurd. I think I shall just walk into her office one day, and introduce myself. Then it will be done.’
‘Please don’t,’ said Sebastian. ‘Please, please don’t.’
He looked genuinely anguished; she sighed.
‘I am finding this – difficult, Sebastian. I really am. Whatever the reason. Please get it settled. Please.’
Sebastian said he would.
Finally he lost his temper: Celia had just cancelled a fourth firm arrangement, had asked Janet Gould to telephone him and express her great regret. Her mother was giving a court dinner, had asked her to step in at the last minute, she felt she couldn’t fail her when she had done so much for the twins that season, she did hope Pandora would understand.
Sebastian put down the phone, looked at it thoughtfully for a minute or two
That had been the simple, straightforward part.
Of course he had known Celia would be upset. He had expected it all: the icy disdain, the anger, the hurt. It was why he had put off telling her for weeks, why he chose – cowardly, for one of the few times in his life – to break the news on the twins’ birthday, when she was in determinedly family mood, when Oliver would be benignly present, when he thought that with luck, LM would be there too, with her level, calm courtesy. He had not expected the party to be over, the house emptied so soon of distraction. But still – it had been done. Oliver’s insistence on the celebratory champagne was unfortunate; but it had distracted attention, notionally at least, from the spilt wine and Celia’s rage at having spilt it. They had somehow got through the hour or so it required for courtesy to release him again, and return, exhausted, to his own house. He had hardly slept the rest of the night; when he did, he dreamed, fretful, sorrowful dreams and woke more than once to find himself weeping. In the morning he felt better: simply knowing that it had been done. And then he had discovered it had not been done quite as successfully as he had hoped.
‘Of course I want to meet her,’ Celia said, smiling at him brilliantly across her office desk a few days later, ‘I can hardly wait. We must arrange it as soon as we can. I will talk to Oliver and see if we can find an evening when we are both free. It’s just that we are extremely busy at the moment, the twins’ season is so hectic, you know, I have a lot of extra entertaining to do, and a lot of country house parties, and then there’s Ascot and—’
‘Celia,’ said Sebastian, keeping his voice level with an effort, ‘Celia, we are not asking for an elaborate visit. A dinner, just the four of us, will do, so that you can—’
‘Oh, Sebastian, don’t be absurd. You never did have the faintest idea about running a household. Even the smallest dinner has to be planned; and I would certainly not want Pandora to feel less than properly welcomed. I want her to meet the entire family, naturally, nothing else would be acceptable to me, and that inevitably requires organisation—’
‘It would be perfectly acceptable to us,’ said Sebastian firmly, ‘a quiet evening, I mean, or I could even bring her to Lyttons—’ He stopped; he could see she had not liked the ‘us’.
‘No, Sebastian. I could not possibly agree to that. And certainly I don’t want her brought to Lyttons. Now give me a week or two and I will find a date.’
The week, and then two, passed; dates were even proposed and then cancelled, changed and then changed again. Apologetic notes were written, elaborate explanations offered; Pandora was first amused then irritated.
‘It’s absurd. I think I shall just walk into her office one day, and introduce myself. Then it will be done.’
‘Please don’t,’ said Sebastian. ‘Please, please don’t.’
He looked genuinely anguished; she sighed.
‘I am finding this – difficult, Sebastian. I really am. Whatever the reason. Please get it settled. Please.’
Sebastian said he would.
Finally he lost his temper: Celia had just cancelled a fourth firm arrangement, had asked Janet Gould to telephone him and express her great regret. Her mother was giving a court dinner, had asked her to step in at the last minute, she felt she couldn’t fail her when she had done so much for the twins that season, she did hope Pandora would understand.
Sebastian put down the phone, looked at it thoughtfully for a minute or two
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