The Duke is Wicked (League of Lords #3) - Tracy Sumner Page 0,84

smoke, drifting away. Gone.”

“I think love is healing,” he whispered into her hair.

No, you don’t.

And she wasn’t going to marry him until he did.

Chapter 17

Three hours after Delaney failed to attend their wedding, the Duke of Ashcroft opened the door to his leased London suite of rooms to find Finn in the foyer, his typically cheerful expression, for once, not so cheerful. Sebastian’s heart raced, his vision dotting for one sluggish second, a painful ache constricting his chest until he feared he’d lose consciousness, which would be a proper end to a miserable day.

Is she well? The baby?

Finn shook his head, and Sebastian understood he’d not said the words aloud, which wasn’t necessary with a mind-reader. “Finally, it happens. You give away your shriveled ducal heart, then you go and make a mess of it. And you thought I was an idiot with Victoria. My friend, you have surpassed all previous masculine follies. I dressed for a wedding, which delights to no end, but without a bride, there is no wedding.”

Groaning, Sebastian put his hand to his temple and pressed hard.

Too much gin.

Too little Delaney.

When Case Temple stepped into view at the top of the stairs, Sebastian started to slam the door, but Delaney’s brother slapped his hand against the burnished walnut and shoved his way into the room.

Turning his back on the men, Sebastian wandered to the sideboard and poured gin in two glasses, making a good show of hiding his trembling hands. Case looked too much like his sister to do anything but give Sebastian’s belly a painful twist. A lonely, agonizing knot. He hadn’t touched her in seven days, seen her face in five, and he was dying inside. “You can tell Julian I’m clean except for a modest detour inside a bottle. Is that why you’re here?” Although he’d been tempted to trot down to Seven Dials and the filthy doss house he’d once frequented. Lose himself, forget about dreams of babies with eyes the color of storm clouds and hair as black as midnight. Forget about the one woman in the entire universe he longed for, liked. Loved.

The woman he wanted but with whom he couldn’t live.

The woman who’d decided she couldn’t come to terms with his terms.

“So you chose to hide out at the Albany,” Finn murmured with a sniff, brushing his hand across the brocade sofa before settling his long body across it. Kicking one polished boot atop the other, he stretched his broad shoulders with a pop. “As posh as they say. I passed two earls and a marquess on the way up. My first time here, you know. Management would never stoop so low as leasing to a viscount’s byblow.” He glanced at Case with a smile. “Or an American. But for a duke—who has a townhouse three streets over, where he should be, but has decided not to be, because of the crowds waiting outside for a glimpse of his new duchess—the doors are thrown wide. Probably tossed the baronet vacating these rooms out on his silly arse the moment you called. You’re a much higher card in the game, Ashcroft. It must be nice.”

“It isn’t, actually,” Sebastian said, and took a fast gulp that blazed a spicy trail down his throat. His title had done nothing to entice Delaney to show up at his solicitor’s office, as they’d agreed last week before he’d left Oxfordshire to meet with his solicitors. He frowned, rolling the rim of the glass over his lip.

She had agreed, hadn’t she?

Case stalked across the room, grabbed the glass from Sebastian’s hand, then threw himself into a leather armchair by the hearth. A hearth that hadn’t held so much as a flicker of a flame since Sebastian had arrived in a blind rage two hours prior. He couldn’t stand the smell of smoke, not now, not for one instant. He’d smash the sideboard to bits with his bare fists before he’d intentionally light one ever again. Flames and the agony they’d brought him his entire life was now further tearing it apart. Removing him from the person he loved with a depth of feeling he’d never imagined.

“He should be in Oxfordshire, in that damned castle he and my sister love so much. With said sister. Oh, but he burned down half of it and is afraid he’ll do so again, so Del’s living, quite miserably, in London with me. She and that dog. Who has wet every carpet in the place while my sister hides in