either. Fruit that had fallen a little too far from the tree, which, nonetheless, still had to be gathered along with the finest pickings.
He would prove himself worthy of his father’s approval, and he had thus far lived up to his child self’s long-ago vow to never do as his father had and risk having a bastard child.
Until now. With her.
It occurred to him that in the future he would dissect his life into two parts: before the knowing of her and the after. And in this after, he felt like a different man. He now comprehended that his resolve had never truly been tested and he feared failing as magnificently in this as he had always excelled in everything else.
“ Avancer, commençons !” Master Henri’s strident voice broke into Sebastian’s thoughts. The master summoned his star student for another match. Grateful for the distraction, he picked up his foil and headed back to the floor, his worn muscles once again on edge.
Sebastian joined Pen and Adelaide at Vauxhall that evening, attending at the invitation of their mother, the Countess of Alston. She’d organized a small party in their box with a light supper before dancing and fireworks later in the evening. Lord and Lady Hervey were also in attendance, accompanied by their young daughter, Grace, a friend of Adelaide’s.
As always, Adelaide glistened with excitement, reveling in her first visit to the pleasure gardens. “Sebastian,” she asked breathlessly. “Are you going to ask me to dance this evening?”
The countess looked up with a frown from where she supervised the laying out of the refreshments. “Adelaide! You never ask a gentleman to dance.”
“But it’s just Sebastian. You don’t mind, do you, Sebastian?”
He responded with a warm smile. “Not at all.” He turned to her mother. “I assure you, it is always my pleasure to dance with Lady Adelaide.”
“Nonetheless,” the countess said, “this is your debut season. You are no longer in the nursery. You must act with appropriate decorum.”
Adelaide looked down at her clasped hands in her lap. “Yes, Mother.”
The countess flashed an apologetic glance at him. “And Mr. Stanhope is far too mannerly to refuse you.”
“Basil, there you are.” Penrose greeted the latest arrival to their box. The sudden appearance of Sebastian’s younger brother spared Adelaide from any more of her mother’s admonishments.
Basil stepped into the box with a bow. “I hope I haven’t missed supper. I’m famished.” The youngest of the Stanhope men was easily the most classically handsome. Not only did he possess the tall, lithe frame and golden mane that marked all of Sebastian’s brothers, but nature had also arranged his patrician facial features in perfect symmetry.
One could practically hear Adelaide and Grace’s combined intake of breath in the presence of Basil’s vigorous masculine beauty. Even the dour Lady Hervey seemed affected by Basil’s physical perfection, which the brothers had laughingly dubbed the “Basil Effect.”
“I’ve never seen anyone with an appetite like yours,” Pen remarked. “Where do you put it all?”
The Adonis greeted his brother with a winning smile. “We Stanhopes have hearty appetites. Even the saints among us, isn’t that right, Seb?”
“I wouldn’t know,” he said a little testily, knowing his thoughts of late were far from saintly.
“Saints?” breathed Adelaide, still staring at Basil, her eyes wide with entranced admiration.
Sebastian felt a tug of amusement at how quickly the young girl had fallen under Basil’s spell. “My brothers’ misplaced, unfortunate, and untrue nickname for me,” he said. “Trouble always seemed to find my brothers when we were growing up. Because I did not always follow their reckless path, they dubbed me the saint.”
“Only he became even more saintly after we grew up,” Basil said before popping a tartlet into his mouth.
“I’ll say.” Pen exchanged a knowing look with Basil, no doubt
Learning to Kill: Stories