As Clara reached to grab him back, Andrew yanked himself from Fairfax’s grip and ran to Sebastian. He flung himself at Sebastian as if the man were a lifeboat in a storm-lashed sea.
Sebastian closed his arms around the boy. An expression crossed his face that Clara had never seen before—a wrenching combination of grief and hopelessness. Tears burned her eyes.
“If you let the boy go, Mr. Hall,” Fairfax said, “I am willing to forget any of this ever happened.”
Clara’s gaze skidded to Rushton, her breath stopping as she silently prayed he would relent and intervene on their behalf.
Rushton watched his son holding on to Andrew. The earl’s shoulders were stiff and his expression unreadable. Only a faint flicker in his eyes betrayed any emotion whatsoever.
“Please,” Clara whispered.
Rushton looked away. He opened the carriage door. Fairfax took hold of Andrew and wrenched the sobbing boy from Sebastian’s arms.
“No.” Sebastian reached with his right hand to grasp Andrew’s shoulder, but his hand froze into a clawlike position, his arm stiffening up to his shoulder. His curse broke like glass shattering through the air.
Clara ran to her son, her heart seizing at the sound of his sobs. Fairfax pushed out a hand to stop her. The impact slammed into her chest and set her stumbling back a few steps. Sebastian lunged forward and tried to grab Andrew again.
The groom sprang at Sebastian, catching him offguard and bringing him to the ground. The two men fought, Sebastian’s left fist flying upward to catch the other man’s jaw. The groom jerked backward and raised an arm. Sebastian flung him off and vaulted to his feet just as Fairfax wrestled Andrew into the carriage. Rushton followed them, his back as rigid as a plank of wood.
The carriage door slammed. A cry lodged in Clara’s throat. Sebastian started toward the carriage, but the groom had already clambered back to the bench. With a snap of the whip, the horses plunged forward.
Sebastian ran after them, his boots slamming against the dirt-covered drive. The carriage picked up speed, moving farther and farther away. After following it almost to the road, Sebastian slowed to a halt and braced his hands on his knees, his body heaving with exertion. The carriage rounded a corner and disappeared from sight.
Sebastian planned an immediate return to London. He sent word in advance for his house staff to expect them, then arranged for a carriage and train tickets. He went in search of Clara to tell her they would depart that very evening.
He found her standing at the window in her bedchamber, her profile etched against the cold glass. Regret wrenched at him, but he smothered it beneath an inflexible resolve.
He would not fail her.
He would not fail Andrew.
He would not fail himself.
“You’d best prepare to depart,” he said. “Our train leaves at six.”
She turned to him, her face schooled into an impassivity that did not conceal the grief burning in her eyes.
“There is nothing more we can do,” she said.
Sebastian shook his head, hating the resignation in her voice. “You’re wrong. There is always something more we can do.”
“If not even your father will resist Fairfax, then what hope do we have of any success? And I will not drag you farther into—”
“Stop.” Driven by sudden anger, Sebastian crossed the room to clasp her shoulders. “You are not dragging me into anything, Clara. If I thought you were, I would divorce you. We are in this together. We have been since the moment I accepted your proposal. And we will fix it together.”
She didn’t ask how. Instead she folded herself into his arms and buried her face in his chest. Her arms tightened around his waist. Sebastian pressed his lips to the top of her head. For all his preoccupation with his family—Rushton, Darius, Catherine, Alexander—he’d lost sight of the most basic premise of his marriage to Clara.
She was his family now. Clara and Andrew were his family. His to provide for, to cherish, to protect. He was bound to ensure their happiness. He alone could fight for their safety. He alone could keep them together.
And not even Fairfax could stop him.
The realization broke inside him like a comet racing through a dark sky. He’d spent so many months despairing the loss of his hand, the end of his career, that he hadn’t realized the void was being filled with something so much more fulfilling. An abiding love, a sense of purpose that flared his blood with