“Do you miss London, Veronica?” His deep voice snapped her from her reverie.

She twisted her head to look out the window. “I miss…” Her voice caught. She stopped and shook her head, willing herself to let go of the daydreams of the past. They weren’t real. They never had been. Sebastian wasn’t the dream husband she’d thought he was. He was a liar and a cheater. “I quite enjoy my time in the country,” she said, her voice flat.

“I see,” he replied. She felt his eyes on her, watching her closely. “I enjoy my time in London as well.” His voice was equally flat.

Veronica’s jaw clenched. She just bet he enjoyed his time in London. Especially the time he spent with his mistress. For all Veronica knew, he had more than one by now. Her nostrils flared, and she returned her attention to the periodical, ripping at the page to turn it. But she wasn’t angry at him. She was angry at herself. She’d been momentarily lulled into remembering how he’d courted her. But of course, he’d been on his best, most appealing behavior back then. He’d somehow even managed to keep up the pretense through their honeymoon phase, two entire months. But the fact remained, he’d lied to her. Lied and cheated. Only a fool forgave such things. And she was no fool. That was why she’d insisted there be no kissing. She and Sebastian might be about to spend the next several nights in bed together, but she would not fall victim to his considerable charms.

Chapter Five

Not an hour later, the coach came to a stop in front of the grand entrance of Whitmore Manor. One of Sebastian’s footmen pulled open the door and lowered the steps. Sebastian jumped down first to turn and assist Veronica. As the servants began unloading the trunks from the back of the conveyance, Sebastian braced himself against the icy wind and ushered Veronica to meet her mother, who had materialized at the front door.

Lady Margaret, the Marchioness of Whitmore, was a fine-looking woman; petite with dark hair and eyes, an older version of Veronica. Lady Margaret had always treated Sebastian with respect and kindness, even after her daughter had told her the worst about him. Of course, Sebastian didn’t know if Justin had attempted to convince his mother that her son-in-law wasn’t the scoundrel Veronica believed him to be, not that it was Justin’s task to clear Sebastian’s name. But if the older woman was angry with Sebastian, she showed no sign of it now. The widow greeted him and smiled warmly. Perhaps she was pretending, too. Perhaps everyone would be pretending this holiday.

After the niceties were exchanged, Sebastian and Veronica were ushered into the house. Inside it smelled like gingerbread, spruce, and burning wood from the many fireplaces, just like Sebastian remembered it. A wave of nostalgia for Christmastides past rolled through him. He’d always had happy times here at Whitmore Manor, much happier than any times he’d had at his own family estate.