The Countess Conspiracy
Page 81
Benedict didn’t meet her eyes.
“Since you have been bedridden,” she asked, “since you allowed him to come back and visit, how often has he come to you?”
“Every day,” Benedict Malheur whispered back.
“And in that time, how often has he argued with you? Made demands?”
Sebastian’s brother shook his head.
“As I thought,” Violet responded. “How often has he made you smile?”
Benedict bit his lip, began to touch fingers, and then shook his head. “Too many times.”
“The entire time he was doing that he was busy—petitioning the queen on my behalf, fielding cables from Harvard and offers from Paris. And yet when he was with you, he made you feel like you were the only person in the world.”
“I… Well…”
“And you think you can’t trust him to care for your son? I had never taken you for an idiot.”
Benedict let out a long breath. “Violet,” he said softly, “listen. There is something…” He trailed off, though.
“This is how things are going to be,” Violet whispered back. “I never, ever want to hear you say that Sebastian is good for nothing. He’s…precious.”
Benedict turned toward her. His eyes were dark and somber, but they widened slightly. And that’s when she realized Benedict was not looking at her. He was looking beyond her.
She swiveled and saw Sebastian standing in the doorway. He wasn’t looking at Benedict; he was looking at her—staring at her as if she were the bright center of everything.
“Violet.” His voice was hoarse.
“I’m sorry.” She stood. “All I could think when I saw you earlier was what I’d done to you—walking away, when you begged me to allow you to make things better. I just—I wanted to—I wanted to make things better for you. Somehow. I just—I’m not thinking straight right now, and—”
“Say it again.” He took a step toward her. “Say it again. What you said just a moment ago.”
She swallowed. “You. You’re precious. After everything I did. I had to do something to make things right for you. You begged, and I…”
His hands touched her shoulders, drawing her close. “No, darling. I had no right to ask what I did of you. All the while you were gone, I kept thinking of your words in the court, what you said. You said it was your work. That nobody would take it from you.” He folded his arms around her. “That’s what I tried to do. I didn’t just try to take your place in prison. I tried to take your claim to what you’d done. You were magnificent, and I realized that I didn’t deserve you. That you couldn’t ever forgive me.”
“Codswallop.” Violet felt her throat close. “Utter codswallop. This long I’ve known you, and you think one little attempt to save me from pain will turn me from you forever? Don’t be ridiculous, Sebastian. I love you. I have for years. Even when I couldn’t let myself love at all, I loved you.”
He kissed her then—the kiss she hadn’t known she was waiting for, his lips soft and tender against hers. “And I adore you,” he whispered to her. “I love you. I—”
Behind them a throat cleared loudly.
Sebastian straightened abruptly. Violet blinked and suddenly remembered that not only was Benedict still in the room, he was confined to his bed and couldn’t slip out discreetly.
“This is admirably touching,” Benedict said. “And I do mean that. But perhaps you might finish at some point when you’re lacking a captive audience?”
Violet blushed.
“Violet,” he said, “Championess of Croquet—if you would do me a favor, I should like a word with my brother.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
“SO,” BENEDICT SAID as soon as the door closed. “Violet. Little Violet. Do you remember that when you were five, you announced to me that you were going to marry her?”
“That was a little premature of me,” Sebastian said. “Please keep it to yourself. I have yet to mention it to her.”
A smile flickered across Benedict’s face, but slipped away. “Look. I wanted to talk to you. I spoke with my doctor yesterday.”
Sebastian straightened and slipped into the chair next to his brother’s bedside.
“He let me listen to my heart,” Benedict said. “It’s doing well, all things considered. Once I’ve become a bit stronger, I’ll likely be able to be up and about again, so long as I’m careful.” He looked down. “There’s still a little swish, an arrhythmia that I can hear.” He made a little motion with his finger. “Such a little noise, really, and it’s going to kill me.”
Sebastian tried not to look aghast and failed utterly. Instead, he took his brother’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “In a way,” he managed to get out, “that’s actually comforting.”
His brother looked up in surprise.
“You always said I was going to be the death of you,” Sebastian told him. “It’s a relief to know that you can be wrong about something. There’s a first time for everything.”
A hint of a smile touched Benedict’s lips. “That’s awful.”
“Oh, yes,” Sebastian said. “I have a lot more of that, too. I don’t care how much longer you have, Benedict. I made up my mind, and you won’t be able to gainsay me. You’re right; there’s not much I’m good at, but I am good at making people smile.” He squeezed his brother’s hand harder. “If you have to die, you might as well do so with a smile on your face.”
Benedict exhaled. “I have a confession to make.”
Sebastian nodded. “I do like a good confession. Never tell me that you’ve done something wrong. It’s impossible to believe.”
“You’re making this even more difficult for me.” Benedict swallowed. “It’s just—you see, if I have been hard on you, it is because you always make everything look so easy.”
This didn’t make any sense. Sebastian sat back in his chair and contemplated his brother. “Pardon?”
“I had to work so hard for everything. Making friends…it took a concerted effort on my part, planning just what to say, when to say it. And then you were born, and you didn’t even have to try. From the first moment you could walk, the other children followed you around, eager to please you in any way. I studied for hours every day and scarcely made honors. You didn’t do a damned thing, and you still understood it all better than I did. When I was younger, I imagined that one day I would be doing important things, that people would listen to my every word. That someday, I would matter in this world.” He shook his head, a little smile on his face. “And then my younger brother came along and turned the world on its head. You’re famous, Sebastian. And not just because of Violet. You’re bloody brilliant in your own right.”
“Since you have been bedridden,” she asked, “since you allowed him to come back and visit, how often has he come to you?”
“Every day,” Benedict Malheur whispered back.
“And in that time, how often has he argued with you? Made demands?”
Sebastian’s brother shook his head.
“As I thought,” Violet responded. “How often has he made you smile?”
Benedict bit his lip, began to touch fingers, and then shook his head. “Too many times.”
“The entire time he was doing that he was busy—petitioning the queen on my behalf, fielding cables from Harvard and offers from Paris. And yet when he was with you, he made you feel like you were the only person in the world.”
“I… Well…”
“And you think you can’t trust him to care for your son? I had never taken you for an idiot.”
Benedict let out a long breath. “Violet,” he said softly, “listen. There is something…” He trailed off, though.
“This is how things are going to be,” Violet whispered back. “I never, ever want to hear you say that Sebastian is good for nothing. He’s…precious.”
Benedict turned toward her. His eyes were dark and somber, but they widened slightly. And that’s when she realized Benedict was not looking at her. He was looking beyond her.
She swiveled and saw Sebastian standing in the doorway. He wasn’t looking at Benedict; he was looking at her—staring at her as if she were the bright center of everything.
“Violet.” His voice was hoarse.
“I’m sorry.” She stood. “All I could think when I saw you earlier was what I’d done to you—walking away, when you begged me to allow you to make things better. I just—I wanted to—I wanted to make things better for you. Somehow. I just—I’m not thinking straight right now, and—”
“Say it again.” He took a step toward her. “Say it again. What you said just a moment ago.”
She swallowed. “You. You’re precious. After everything I did. I had to do something to make things right for you. You begged, and I…”
His hands touched her shoulders, drawing her close. “No, darling. I had no right to ask what I did of you. All the while you were gone, I kept thinking of your words in the court, what you said. You said it was your work. That nobody would take it from you.” He folded his arms around her. “That’s what I tried to do. I didn’t just try to take your place in prison. I tried to take your claim to what you’d done. You were magnificent, and I realized that I didn’t deserve you. That you couldn’t ever forgive me.”
“Codswallop.” Violet felt her throat close. “Utter codswallop. This long I’ve known you, and you think one little attempt to save me from pain will turn me from you forever? Don’t be ridiculous, Sebastian. I love you. I have for years. Even when I couldn’t let myself love at all, I loved you.”
He kissed her then—the kiss she hadn’t known she was waiting for, his lips soft and tender against hers. “And I adore you,” he whispered to her. “I love you. I—”
Behind them a throat cleared loudly.
Sebastian straightened abruptly. Violet blinked and suddenly remembered that not only was Benedict still in the room, he was confined to his bed and couldn’t slip out discreetly.
“This is admirably touching,” Benedict said. “And I do mean that. But perhaps you might finish at some point when you’re lacking a captive audience?”
Violet blushed.
“Violet,” he said, “Championess of Croquet—if you would do me a favor, I should like a word with my brother.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
“SO,” BENEDICT SAID as soon as the door closed. “Violet. Little Violet. Do you remember that when you were five, you announced to me that you were going to marry her?”
“That was a little premature of me,” Sebastian said. “Please keep it to yourself. I have yet to mention it to her.”
A smile flickered across Benedict’s face, but slipped away. “Look. I wanted to talk to you. I spoke with my doctor yesterday.”
Sebastian straightened and slipped into the chair next to his brother’s bedside.
“He let me listen to my heart,” Benedict said. “It’s doing well, all things considered. Once I’ve become a bit stronger, I’ll likely be able to be up and about again, so long as I’m careful.” He looked down. “There’s still a little swish, an arrhythmia that I can hear.” He made a little motion with his finger. “Such a little noise, really, and it’s going to kill me.”
Sebastian tried not to look aghast and failed utterly. Instead, he took his brother’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “In a way,” he managed to get out, “that’s actually comforting.”
His brother looked up in surprise.
“You always said I was going to be the death of you,” Sebastian told him. “It’s a relief to know that you can be wrong about something. There’s a first time for everything.”
A hint of a smile touched Benedict’s lips. “That’s awful.”
“Oh, yes,” Sebastian said. “I have a lot more of that, too. I don’t care how much longer you have, Benedict. I made up my mind, and you won’t be able to gainsay me. You’re right; there’s not much I’m good at, but I am good at making people smile.” He squeezed his brother’s hand harder. “If you have to die, you might as well do so with a smile on your face.”
Benedict exhaled. “I have a confession to make.”
Sebastian nodded. “I do like a good confession. Never tell me that you’ve done something wrong. It’s impossible to believe.”
“You’re making this even more difficult for me.” Benedict swallowed. “It’s just—you see, if I have been hard on you, it is because you always make everything look so easy.”
This didn’t make any sense. Sebastian sat back in his chair and contemplated his brother. “Pardon?”
“I had to work so hard for everything. Making friends…it took a concerted effort on my part, planning just what to say, when to say it. And then you were born, and you didn’t even have to try. From the first moment you could walk, the other children followed you around, eager to please you in any way. I studied for hours every day and scarcely made honors. You didn’t do a damned thing, and you still understood it all better than I did. When I was younger, I imagined that one day I would be doing important things, that people would listen to my every word. That someday, I would matter in this world.” He shook his head, a little smile on his face. “And then my younger brother came along and turned the world on its head. You’re famous, Sebastian. And not just because of Violet. You’re bloody brilliant in your own right.”
