The Irresistible Miss Peppiwell(63)

With Christmas less than a week away, he’d received Sebastian’s note informing him of his marriage, and also a formal invitation from the duchess to Christmas dinner. He’d also thought it best to greet the duchess now, not before a full gathering at Christmas dinner. He wondered if she’d told his brother of their…brief connection. Feeling more than awkward about it, he had yet to broach that topic with Sebastian.

They stood now in his brother’s stately library, sharing a drink before the fire.

“Are you sure Constance is well?” Sebastian asked him for the third time.

Anthony sighed, and moved to inspect a new volume he spied on the bookshelf behind the door. “As well as can be expected. She is still at Lord Radcliffe’s country home. She and Mother will return to London at the opening of the season. Connie is more than reluctant, but she’s a brave little thing and will go along despite her fears.”

Sebastian nodded grimly. “Lord Andrew Bellamy offered for her several weeks ago. He begged off, no doubt because of the rumors about her parentage.”

“He is a dishonorable cad, then, and not worthy of her,” Anthony snarled, snapping the book shut and replacing it.

Before Sebastian could reply, the door to the library swung open, nearly hitting him, and Lady Jocelyn sailed in. She was dressed in a pale pink tea gown with her hair swept high in an intricate knot.

She closed the door, clearly not aware Anthony was standing right behind her.

Sebastian asked politely, “How my I assist you, Jocelyn?”

“I am in love with you,” she announced without preamble. She leaned against the closed door, her hands clasped tightly around the handle.

Astonished, Anthony started to step forward, but Sebastian gave him a quelling look and he remained rooted.

“I am in love with you, Sebastian,” she continued agitatedly.” I love you. Your warmth, your generosity with your tenants, your intensity…your passion. Your—”

“Enough, madam!” Sebastian bit out furiously, seeming even more astonished than Anthony.

Jocelyn, however, persisted, and the conversation grew even more intimate. Anthony was horrified. Both at his part in the scene, and at Sebastian. He had never heard his brother’s voice so cold and forbidding as when he attempted to shut down his wife’s declaration of love. Anthony wanted to punch his brother. She was laying her heart bare and he just sat there, unmoved.

Anthony’s admiration for her soared when she did not back down, but soldiered on to outline exactly how things stood with her. But then he was not surprised, given her temperament.

When she was finished, she did not wait for his brother’s response, or even watch his reaction. She whirled, jerked the door open, and stalked from the room.

Anthony would have laughed at the look of shock that chased Sebastian’s face—if the situation were not so damnably serious.

He cleared his throat. “I do not believe Jocelyn was aware that I was in the room.”

“Whatever gave you that impression?” his brother ground out.

Despite the awkwardness, Anthony was inordinately pleased to see how rattled his normally unshakable brother was. Sebastian needed a good shaking up, and suddenly Anthony was damn glad the irrepressible Jocelyn Rathbourne had snared the duke, no matter how it had come about. “Never have I seen you looking quite so at a loss, Sebastian.”

“Shut up, damn it.” His brother sent him a deadly scowl, shot to his feet, and stalked to the drinks tray. “How is Phillipa?

Anthony raised his brow at the abrupt shift in topic. “Very happy and contented. She will journey down with her sisters and parents in a couple of days.” He took a healthy swallow of his whiskey, not willing to let the matter go. He was dying of curiosity to find out how in damnation his marriage-phobic brother ended up in shackles. His note had only mentioned he’d acquired a duchess. “I thought someone was playing a prank when I read in the Times that you had wed Lady Jocelyn Rathbourne. Then I realized it must be true, because who would dare?”

His brother grunted and went to the windows. He opened them a crack, letting in the chill.

“Bloody hell, Sebastian, you and the damn cold!” Anthony rose and joined him, gazing out at the landscape that was blanketed white with snow. “How on earth did it come about that you married Lady Jocelyn?”

A muscle ticked in Sebastian’s jaw. She’d obviously gotten under Sebastian’s skin. It was about damn time. After the debacle with his last mistress, he had been too alone for the last several years, deliberately closing off himself from female companionship.

“She barged into my study with a derringer, claiming you had taken advantage of her, and demanding satisfaction.”