Not in a garden cracking his shins on every earthenware container he owned.
He tipped back the rest of his brandy, and this time the amber liquid slid down his throat like liquid silk. His gaze settled on the second floor, on the long balcony framing two sets of double doors. To the right, the countess’s bedchamber sat in forbidding darkness, its occupant fast asleep, making Sebastian’s situation all the more laughable.
For nearly two hours, he had tried to find surcease from the image of the McCarthy girl lying in a vat of mud, her mouth agape and her eyes deadened.
He had seen death many times and in various forms. Men, women, sick, poor, elderly, young—no one was immune, all could be sacrificed. Children were the worst. Their innocence made them easy targets, their defenses laughable to predators.
Children were the worst.
Sebastian lifted his glass for another healthy swallow, only to be met with a single drop. He eased his arm back down, the empty glass dangling from his fingertips. Unbidden, his gaze rose to the countess’s chamber again. How he wished he could have confided in her. His jaw actually hurt from the strain of keeping his tongue behind his teeth.
One detailed explanation would have been enough to set her mind at ease until the Nexus located Ashcroft’s killer. One detailed explanation would have removed the wariness from her brown eyes and kept her in his bed. One explanation would have exposed an organization whose success depended entirely upon its anonymity.
He rubbed his aching temples, hating his role as chief of the Nexus in a way he never had before. He started to lift his glass again and remembered it was empty. Time for a refill.
Shuffling his feet, he made his way up the four steps that led down to his favorite section of the garden. Once there, he could see well enough that he didn’t have to walk like an old man anymore, although his balance continued to favor one side of his body.
He entered through his study door, banging his shoulder into the frame. Someone cursed at the opposite end of the room. Sebastian dropped into a crouch, away from the open door.
His rapid change in position made his head spin, and he took precious seconds to shake off his alcohol-induced fog. Once he regained a modicum of clarity, he peered hard into the gloom, searching for shifting shadows and subtle sprays of light. But all remained eerily still. Too still. The air became rife with the intruder’s fear.
Setting his glass down, Sebastian removed the long blade from a hidden sleeve inside his right boot. With more determination than finesse, he slid from one piece of furniture to the next, closing in on the intruder’s location.
Or at least, where he hoped the intruder was hiding. With nothing more than a sliver of moon riding high in the sky, he was operating on instinct alone. And his inner guide led him to the darkened corner behind his desk.
Keeping to the shadows, Sebastian peered around his desk and listened for the distinctive sounds of life—shuffling feet, shuddering breaths, shaking furniture—while searching the darkness for movement. Nothing. He mentally retraced his steps to the moment he entered the study.
Had he really heard a harsh exclamation? Or was it perhaps his own noisy entrance that he mistook for another? When the possibility gathered merit in his mind, a flush heated his already dampened skin. He straightened from his concealed position, disgusted by his overreaction.
And that’s when he caught a familiar scent. A scent that, only a few hours ago, had drenched his senses and made him yearn for a life not his own. A scent that was hers, and hers alone.
Catherine.
Lowering his blade, he sheathed the weapon and moved toward the gloom-filled corner. What had brought her to his study so late at night? Could she not banish the day’s events, same as he, and sought solace elsewhere? His heart slammed against the wall of his chest when he considered another more pleasant reason for coming here. Had she been looking for him? If so, why did she remain quiet?
Then he realized she might not have known it was him. He had stumbled into the room from the outside and then immediately ducked out of sight. Maybe she thought he was the intruder.
Stopping a few feet away, he heard her faint rasping breaths. “Care to tell me why you’re lurking in the shadows, my dear?”