A scowl appeared on Sebastian’s face at that, and it took all his self-control not to raise the questions growing within him. What about what he deserved? Did he truly not have a say in his own future?
Of course, it was not that he thought poorly of Beatrice, not at all. She was sweet enough and he supposed she was pretty enough, and they could manage to have a conversation, but the stilted conversation between them was rather troubling.
“Sebastian.” Fitzgerald suddenly sounded tired. “You know the realities of your life. You have a duty to this family, and you have no choice but to accept that. Lady Beatrice is a fine choice, and you should count yourself fortunate to have her as your future wife.”
Sebastian sighed. He knew that his father was right, and he had no real reason to fight him on this. “Yes father,” he said at last. “I understand.”
Fitzgerald’s expression softened slightly and he looked at his son with a sigh. “I know this is not easy, Sebastian,” he said at last. “But trust me when I say… you are making the right decision. I believe that in time, you and Lady Beatrice will find happiness together just like your mother and I did.”
Sebastian merely nodded before making his way out of the study without a second word. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, and a scowl took up residence around his mouth. He knew he was doing what was expected of him, he knew he was doing what was best for his family: he was doing what he had to.
Still, there was a small part of them that was worried about it. His father seemed so certain that he would find happiness with Beatrice, but he was not quite as sure.
His mind drifted back to the stilted conversation they had shared and a smile flashed across his lips when he remembered how easily her younger sister, Caroline, had managed to lighten the mood. She was quite the firecracker, he thought with a soft laugh. She seemed rather rebellious and feisty, but he could not deny that he quite enjoyed talking to her. She was as beautiful as her sister too—he could see the hint of womanly curves under the dress, the way she moved with a hint of wanton and mischief.
Despite the other sister being his supposed betrothed, Sebastian could not stop his mind from wandering treacherously to Caroline. He could imagine the fire in her eyes directed at him with less mirth and more lust. He could imagine the softness of her skin under his fingers, the taste of her lips against his own. He could picture her writhing beneath him, her chestnut hair spilled across his pillows as he teaches her the meaning of pleasure.
These forbidden fantasies made his body tighten with desire and he shook his head in a fruitless attempt to banish them. Beatrice too, was beautiful, though she had shown less passion than her sister, he was certain that he would be able to elicit it from her.
Lady Caroline had taken mighty offense at his words about the strength of a woman. His lips curled into a smile.
There was something about her.
But no, he couldn't allow himself to entertain such thoughts. He was to marry Beatrice, and that was that. He would be a good husband to her, provide for her and any children they might have. That was the arrangement, whether the two of them got along easily or not.
A deep sigh escaped his lips, and he shook his head. He’d always known that he was going to marry a woman chosen by hisparents and as he had said to his father, it was not the idea of a marriage of convenience that bothered him.
It was, however, the feeling of utter powerlessness that had him frustrated.
“Sebastian?”
It was his mother’s voice that stopped him in his tracks, and he paused, looking down at her tenderly.
“I will be fine, mother,” he promised before she could get another word out and she shook her head.
“I don’t understand,” she said at last, her deep brown eyes searching her son’s. “You have never shown in any way that you were opposed to this. Why now?”
With a deep sigh, Sebastian wrapped an arm around his mother’s shoulders and led her to the drawing room. “Let us have some tea,” he said simply, and his mother nodded, following him to the drawing room wordlessly.
For a short while, silence reigned between mother and son—a silence that was foreign to Sebastian. He looked at his mother gently, then let out a deep sigh.
“I must apologize, mother,” he said at last, and the countess lifted her brows as she looked at him. Sebastian wiped a hand over his face and sighed deeply.
“I know that Lady Beatrice and I will probably be able to have an amicable, happy marriage,” he said at last. “I know that things could have been much worse: she is beautiful, clever, kind… And I was perfectly honest when I said that I held no illusions about true love and romance.”
Margaret leaned forward worriedly. “Then what is it, my son?” she demanded, and Sebastian sighed.
“I just… I don’t like feeling powerless,” he admitted at last, and his mother frowned. In truth, Sebastian knew that he could not be too surprised by her lack of understanding. Feeling powerless was not something she seemed to be bothered by.
“I am a man,” he explained. “I stand to inherit the title of earl, I make my own decisions and I have always made sound ones. I always knew that my marriage would be arranged, and while that is something I am fine with… I merely suppose that I would have been granted more time to ensure that I would get along with my wife.”
Margaret sighed and reached over to rest a hand on her son’s wrist.
“My darling,” she said at last, her eyes searching his. “I know that everything
is happening fast and I do understand that you want to be sure that you will get along with your future wife, but you… you must know that your father and I only want what is best for you.”
Sebastian forced himself to smile and he took the last few sips of his tea before rising to his feet. “I understand,” he said at last, his voice heavy. “And I am certain that I will get on splendidly with Lady Beatrice.”
