In Pursuit of His Wife(15)

Stella barely had time to say goodbye before Sebastian ended the call.  He pushed the phone aside and studied Nasira. Her long, silky black hair  cascaded over her shoulders. She wore a pink sleeveless blouse that  complemented her golden skin and white loose-fitting slacks that hid her  best attributes. Not an issue. He knew exactly what the cotton fabric  concealed.

"You look very pretty tonight."

She pulled back the chair across from him and sat. "Thank you. I see  you've gone from cowboy to corporate billionaire. If I had known you  were going to wear a suit and tie I would have donned an evening gown."

"Force of habit," he said as he shrugged out of his jacket and laid it on the seat next to him. "Better?"

"A bit more casual." She bent her elbow on the table and supported her cheek with her palm. "Did you do all this?"

"Will I score a few points if I said yes?"

"You will score points if you tell me the truth."

"Actually, the table was already set. I did remove the food from the oven."

"It smells wonderful," she said as she unfolded the white napkin and laid it in her lap, prompting Sebastian to follow suit.

"That it does."                       
       
           



       

When he reached for her plate, she waved him away. "I am quite capable of helping myself."

"Far be it for me to tread on your independence."

She took a less-than-generous helping of the roast beef and vegetables. "You have a habit of doing that."

"I do?"

"Yes, you do. I suppose I cannot fault you considering I was rather helpless when we married."

She had been the picture of innocence. "You've grown quite a bit, Sira."

"I would hope so after ten years." She took a bite then a drink of  water from the cut-crystal glass. "Evidently Annie is fond of salt."

Sebastian took a much bigger bite of the fare and found it to his  liking. But he thought it best to be as agreeable as possible. "Perhaps a  bit. I just spoke with Stella. She told me to give you her regards."

"How is James?"

"She said he had a good day, right after she lectured me on leaving without giving her notice."

Nasira's brown eyes widened. "You didn't tell her you were coming here?"

"I left word through the servants. It was very much a spontaneous decision."

"I am certain she was worried."

"Possibly, but she was more concerned about other issues."

"What issues?"

He was hoping she wouldn't ask. "You know Stella. She is a broken record when it comes to producing an heir."

"That is understandable, Sebastian. She knows how badly your father would like to see that happen."

He had suddenly lost his appetite. "My father has no right to dictate  my future after what he did..." He refused to go there for if he did, he  would have to offer an explanation.

"What did he do, Sebastian?"

He took another bite that now tasted bitter as brine. "I'd prefer not to discuss it."

Nasira wadded the napkin and tossed it on the table. "This is exactly  the reason we are having problems. Your inability to communicate drives  me batty."

"It's complicated, Sira. I see no point in dredging up the past."

"Perhaps you should since it's apparently affecting our future."

He shoved back from the table and began to pace. "You are asking too much of me."

"I am only asking for honesty, Sebastian. My intent is not to cause you pain. Does this have something to do with your mother?"

He turned midstride and faced her. "It has everything do with her."

"Please, come sit and tell me about her. Surely you have good memories."

More than she would ever know, unless he finally told her. Then he could gradually move into the bad, if he dared.

He reclaimed his seat and stared at the food now growing cold on his  plate. "I have no idea how to begin to tell you about Martha Ella  Edwards."

Nasira set her plate aside and folded her arms atop the table. "I know  you were ten when she passed, so I suppose you can begin by telling me  what you do remember."

He smiled at the recollections, the special moments that he had never  shared. The painful times he couldn't share, at least not now. "She was  extremely devoted to my father and to me. She used to call me her little  drummer boy because I had a penchant for stealing wooden spoons from  the kitchen and banging them on anything stationary."

"Clearly you were destined to be in a rock band."

"I thought that too after Mother bought me a real set of drums on my  eighth birthday. But of course James could not endure the noise and had  the servants toss them two days later."

Nasira laid her palm on his hand, which was now resting on the  tabletop. "I am so sorry, Sebastian. I know you and your father have  always seemed to be at odds, but I assumed that had to do with the two  of you butting horns over business like two battering rams."

If she only knew the reason behind Sebastian's well-hidden resentment.  If he let down his guard, she would. "I never approved of the way he  treated my mother, as if she were no more than a concubine put on this  earth for his pleasure."

"How could you believe that at such a young age? Was he inappropriate in your presence?"

"No. I only learned some facts later and drew my own conclusions."                       
       
           



       

"You are going to have to be less vague in order for me to help you move past this."

"I don't need your help, Sira, or your pity."

"I would never pity you, Sebastian, but I do believe you need to have  someone as a sounding board. And I would hope after ten years together  you could trust me enough to fill that role."

He pondered her words a moment and realized she was probably right. He  also knew that by being totally transparent, he would be inviting a  measure of pain. Yet he couldn't think of one soul he trusted more than  his wife, and he had done her a disservice by not revealing his secrets.  Only after doing so would she understand why he could not in good  conscience go forward with their plans to have a child.

"I will tell you what you believe you want to know, but I assure you it's not pretty."

"I am stronger than you think, Sebastian."

He would not debate that. At times he wondered if she possessed more  strength than him. "This secret, the one no one speaks of, has to do  with my mother's demise."

Nasira leaned forward and sent him a concerned look. "Please tell me and end this suspense."

He drew in a deep breath and prepared to lower the boom. "My father killed her."





Six

Nasira placed a hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp. Myriad questions  whirled through her mind like a crazed carousel. "Why? How?"

Sebastian disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a tumbler half  full of his favorite scotch. "Why? Because he's a selfish bastard who  only cares about his desires. How involves... "

When he hesitated, Nasira's anxiety escalated. "Go on."

Sebastian streaked a hand over his shadowed jaw. "He knew she was ill and didn't lift a finger to help her."

She sat back, her shoulders sagging from mild relief. "I truly thought  you were going to mention knives or guns or perhaps poison."

He settled back into the chair and took a sip of the drink. "He might  as well have put a gun to her head by not seeking medical attention when  she clearly needed it. I knew something was wrong that morning."

Nasira realized he was perched on the precipice of deep emotional pain. "The morning she passed away?"

He shook his head. "No. The last morning I saw her alive." He stared at  some unknown focal point, as if he had mentally returned to that day,  before he spoke again. "I had been on summer break from boarding school  and it was time for me to return. Of course, I happened to be running  late when Mother summoned me into her quarters. She was propped up in  bed and she looked very pale. She told me she loved me and hugged me as  if she didn't want to let me go. As if she knew it would be the final  time. And I wrenched out of her grasp because I knew if I didn't leave  at that moment, I would earn my father's wrath for making the driver  wait. I never expressed my love for her, and I have lived with that  regret for almost three decades."

Her heart ached for him. "You were only a child, Sebastian. You could not have foreseen the future."

He released a weary sigh. "Perhaps, and I would not have predicted what  I would learn when I was called into the headmaster's office two days  later. My father did not bother to personally retrieve me. He sent one  of the bloody staff members to tell me my mother was dead. He did not  shed one tear at the wake. Worse still, he admonished me for crying."