At The Stroke Of Midnight by Bethany M.Sefchick

Author:Bethany M.Sefchick
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Bethany M. Sefchick
Published: 2014-11-09T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Christmas Eve day dawned cold, wet and miserable, matching the way Sebastian felt deep inside. Today was his last day with Jane. No news had come from his solicitor in London, no word on if there might be a way to break, or at the very least circumvent, his father's will and his mother's promise. No idea of whether or not his plan to name a new heir might succeed or if it could even be implemented in time.

He had originally planned another early morning outing for the two of them, as the hours at dawn were the only time they could truly be alone and enjoy each other's company without fear of discovery. However the messy, sticky wet snow of the night before, combined with his late hours with Jane in the music room had foiled those plans. Now he was left with the extremely distasteful choices of joining the rest of the house party in the breakfast room or keeping to himself most of the day.

Sebastian was no fool and he knew good and well what was expected of him. Tonight or tomorrow, all assembled expected him to announce his betrothal to Lady Elizabeth. His presence at breakfast where she would certainly be holding court was very nearly required. Yet he did not wish to put himself through the torture of listening to her prattle on about ribbons and bows and other feminine nonsense. The girl could honestly think of nothing save for fashion and gossip about the ton, two things that he detested above all others.

And yet, he was bound for a lifetime of just such torture. All because of his mother and her promise. Not to mention his own sense of honor.

For in the dark of night, well after he had left Jane at her own door, he had admitted silently to himself what he had known in the very depths of his heart all along. He might love Jane - even to the point of distraction - but he owed a great deal, nearly his entire life, to his father, the legacy of the Covington estate, and to those whose lives depended upon him.

He also had too much honor to abandon those who had come to depend on the Covington title for generations. He could not leave them to the mercy of his cousin and the validity of his other plan, the one he had sent by courier to London the previous day after his morning interlude with Jane, had yet to be addressed.

There was hope for a different future, but it was slim and fading quickly.

And it was making him decidedly grouchy. Not to mention undeniably angry.

Rather than take his ever-growing wrath out on the unsuspecting house party guests, Sebastian dressed in the dark of his room, not bothering to call for his valet, who would probably insist on dressing him for a proper breakfast, and instead decided to explore Blackstone. After all, he would be spending a great deal of time within

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