The Traitor by Grace Burrowes

Author:Grace Burrowes
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Sourcebooks
Published: 2014-08-04T21:00:00+00:00

Eleven

Sebastian’s bride was not radiant, she was worried.

“You’ll sign your name as legibly as any woman on her wedding day, Millicent. Stop fretting.” He’d meant this as a reassurance, but his comment apparently fell short of its mark.

Their nuptials would transpire in the morning, God willing, and then seven days of marital bliss would commence—for Milly at least.

She paused mid-stab at her embroidery. “I’m not concerned about writing my name.”

Sebastian’s instincts begged to differ. She wasn’t worried about the wedding night; yesterday’s frolic in the drying shed had reassured him of that.

“You’re anxious over something. I can see it here.” He scooted to the edge of his reading chair and drew a finger between her brows. “You must learn to share your burdens with me, baroness.”

She jerked the needle through the fabric. “I’m not your baroness yet.”

Something struck him about the way she hunched closer to her hoop, the way her cat, cuddled beside her on the sofa, did not purr.

“You are worried your odious cousin will attempt to interfere with the ceremony.”

She put the hoop down and scooped the feline onto her lap. Immediately, the beast began rumbling.

“Alcorn can be very determined. Frieda is the more devious of the two, though. She’s had to be.”

“Sympathy with the enemy is never convenient, Milly, and seldom well-advised, though often unavoidable. I’ve not put a notice in the newspapers, you know.”

Her hand paused mid-stroke over the cat’s fur. “You haven’t?”

“Most people don’t. I have enemies, and they are not above hurting me through you. The more time I have before word of our marriage is generally known, the less likelihood that threat will reach you.”

“But Lady Flynn and Lady—”

“Are keeping their powder dry in anticipation of the announcement. When one has played whist as long as Aunt has, one develops a store of ammunition for use in emergencies.”

Milly resumed caressing her beast while Sebastian gave her time to put together some of the puzzle pieces: Lady Flynn had been indiscreet at some point in the past. Milly did not need to know that the indiscretion had involved a Russian diplomat who’d shared the occasional bottle with the professor.

“Both of them? Lady Flynn and Lady Covington?”

“Aunt holds a few of Lady Covington’s markers, so to speak.” Whist being occasionally played for imprudent stakes.

“They seem like such nice women.”

She sounded so forlorn, Sebastian shifted to take a place beside her on the sofa, his arm around her shoulders. The moment was sweet, domestic, and laced with sorrow, because a lifetime of such evenings with his wife would be denied him.

He kissed her temple.

“They are nice women. They will deal with each other civilly, and I daresay, the ladies will call upon you to admire your ring and congratulate you on your married state.”

Outside, darkness settled over the city like a soft summer quilt, and a heavy wagon jingled past, putting Sebastian in mind of MacHugh’s gift of time. A week would not be enough, but then, neither would a lifetime.

“I feel guilty for not notifying my only relations that I’m marrying, Sebastian.

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