the noise. The cream-painted door stood ajar, the laurel-covered cornice framing a tall figure in the hall instead of the paneled entryway.
William. Sebastian swallowed, and his eyes widened at seeing the man he had just been contemplating. The captain stood tall and radiated handsomeness.
Discomfort flickered over the captain’s face, and his jaw appeared more set. “Your Grace.”
“Captain Carlisle.” Sebastian leaped from the armchair and forgot himself, running his eyes over the man in appreciation. A dark green frock coat swung over the captain’s tight leather breeches, accentuating his perfectly formed legs. His polished black boots glistened against the tiled floor, and a riding crop dangled from his long fingers, coarsened from war.
Heat rose to his cheeks, and he hoped William would not see the accompanying blush.
William smirked and strode into the room. His mood seemed to be improved.
“We can revert to calling each other by our first names.” William leaned closer to Sebastian. “There is a rumor we shall be brothers soon.”
“Oh, yes. Of course.”
The light caught William’s hands, tanned from hot days in the Indian sun. Dark hairs covered his wrists. What would it be like to touch them?
“Will you make my sister a fortunate woman?” William asked.
Sebastian lifted his head. “Do you think she would become unfortunate by tying herself to me?”
William stared at him, his tone serious. “Nobody could be unfortunate in your company.”
For a moment, Sebastian worried he would lose himself in William’s warm, dark eyes, and he shifted his feet.
William frowned. He closed the thick door behind them and motioned for Sebastian to take a seat on the couch.
Sebastian swallowed. Would he sit next to him? He wasn’t sure whether he felt relief or disappointment when William settled in the armchair opposite him.
They were silent. At intervals, William turned to him and opened his mouth before closing it, as if reluctant to say something. Finally, William buried his face in his hands for a moment before gazing up. “I will not be angry with you if you do not marry her. Just so you know.”
His statement startled Sebastian, and the feeling of warmth abandoned him. “You grant me permission not to marry her?”
William nodded solemnly. “You haven’t proposed yet. Please know that I will not be offended if you never do.”
Sebastian set his jaw. William was mocking him. He resembled everyone who expressed surprise at Sebastian fulfilling his societal expectation. Even if Sebastian was just a country squire whose position had risen to inconceivable proportions, he resolved to be a good duke. He could handle the task of being a husband, just as he could handle the task of managing an enormous estate.
“My intent remains unchanged. I see I was fortunate to previously procure your consent.”
“I only meant . . .” William wrinkled his brow. “Forgive me.”
Sebastian doubted William would outright ban Dorothea from marrying him. He would propose to Dorothea immediately. He had considered inviting her to Somerset Hall on the South Downs to make his proposal there. Perhaps he could simply settle things now. “Think nothing of it. I’ve already forgotten.”
William nodded. “Other options exist . . .”
“How kind of you,” he said, doing his best impression of an icy aristocrat. William did not think he was suitable to marry his sister. That choice was Dorothea’s—not his. He had no desire to see William flounder to make conversation. Sebastian gestured at William’s clothes. “Never mind. I believe you are off to ride again?”
A pained expression flickered across William’s face. He tilted his head down and frowned. “Excuse me.” He rose and bowed curtly and left the room.
Sebastian remained on the couch. His vision blurred, the fleurs-de-lis melding together. The main door slammed, indicating William’s departure, and his shoulders dropped.
A few minutes later,