The Demure Miss Manning. Amanda McCabe

Our fathers have long known each other and she knows what a life such as ours entails. She wouldn’t be too tiresome.’

      Sebastian felt a flare of anger on the lovely Miss Mary’s behalf—only to push it away, knowing he had no right. He was the one she should rightfully be furious with, of course. ‘I saw her at the ball last night. She was very pretty.’

      ‘She is all right, but that hardly matters, does it? I must find a suitable bride one day and she is one of the ladies who would be suitable. But right now I cannot think of such things.’ Henry glanced up from his letter. ‘Nor should you. Duty is paramount right now, Seb.’

      ‘You needn’t lecture me about duty, Henry. I have served England with my own blood and will again.’

      Henry studied him closely. ‘We all do what we can, I suppose. Here, give these letters to Father. And I hope you are not tempted to add a little line to Miss Manning. Ladies like that are not for such as you, Brother. Besides, perhaps she will be better off in Portugal. I hear her own mother was from Lisbon.’

      ‘Oh, believe me, I know that she is not for me very well indeed.’ Sebastian took the letter from his brother, looking into Henry’s cold blue eyes, and turned on his heel to leave the room. His brother had long been studious, long been focused on following their father’s footsteps, but when had be become so very distant? So hardened to people like Miss Manning, seeing only her ‘usefulness’?

      Then again—Sebastian knew he himself had been no better. Surely his brother was right. Now was not the time to chase Miss Manning and make her listen to his poor excuses. She had her own family to think of now, her own work, and he had his.

      Perhaps only through his work could he one day make her see how sorry he was and how he would work to erase that one night. If only he could some day see her again.

      * * *

      ‘Sebastian!’ Sebastian heard Nicholas Warren call from across the street as he stepped out of his father’s house. He glanced over to find his friend hurrying between the carriages and horses, his hat threatening to fly away in the breeze, and the sight actually made him start to smile. Nicholas often had that effect on people.

      But his brief smile faded as he saw Nicholas’s face. His friend was usually quick to smile, yet today he looked solemn as a funeral, and Sebastian was reminded sharply of that disagreeable scene at the ball—as if he could forget it. He would never forget the darkness that came into Mary Manning’s bright eyes.

      ‘Were you calling on your father?’ Nicholas asked. He glanced up at the Barrett house, looking as if the bricks and stone could suddenly sprout teeth and bite him. Most of Sebastian’s friends seemed to have that reaction.

      ‘Yes, duty done for the day. I was on my way back to my lodgings.’ Sebastian almost suggested they go to the club for a claret, but then he remembered too clearly what had happened the last time they were there.