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Love and Christmas Wishes: Three Regency Romance Novellas

Page 4

by Rose Pearson


  Chapter Six

  Sarah watched Mr. Grainger as he walked away from her. Why did she lie to him? Why did she not tell him the truth, that he was just as much to blame as she was for last summer? He should be as embarrassed as she was, but he seemed to be unaffected. The book she had been holding in her hand, slipped from her grasp, hitting the carpeted floor with a soft thud. Leaning down to retrieve it, she was startled to find she was not alone when she looked up again.

  “Since we have been formally introduced and we have had the pleasure of dining together, do you mind if I join you?” Mr. Langford asked Sarah as he waited patiently for her answer.

  “Not at all.”

  “Miss Powell, your cousin Henry may seem to be a frolicking student like me, but he has the heart of a serious man. He will make a fine vicar one day. I hope I do not embarrass you by sharing a confidence, but he informed me that you were in need of company. He told me that you required cheerful conversation.”

  “He said that? How dear he is. I should be vexed with him, but I am not. I am fortunate to have cousins who care for me.”

  “You are more fortunate than you realize. How many women in this room can say they enjoyed my company at dinner?” he said as he settled into his chair in a manner that was far too casual for a formal drawing room after dinner.

  “You are incorrigible!” she stated as she shocked herself, “I do not know why I said that.”

  “I am incorrigible, I will accept that. It is among other words that have been used to describe me. Although I have to admit that most of them were far too coarse to say in the presence of a lady.”

  “Is this what you would refer to as cheerful conversation?”

  “Yes it is, I believe that honest discussions are the most cheerful. Would you not agree? You can be like me, if you choose. Say what you please, do as you wish.”

  “I could not, as you well know,” she chided, gently. “I could never be a woman noted for her freethinking. Nor am I a man who has the freedom to do as he likes.”

  Mr. Langford leaned close to her as he said, “You have an opportunity to do what few ladies in this room ever will. You can chart your own path in life. That is a freedom, is it not?”

  Sarah was immediately aware of how near she was sitting to Mr. Langford. He had moved close enough that she could see his eyes in all their blue brilliance. She was also close enough to appreciate that his shoulders were broad, his hands were large and strong. She assumed the rest of Mr. Langford was as well built as his shoulders. His lips were full and his features masculine, his chin blunt. He was the image of a strapping gentleman. If she closed her eyes, she easily imagined him astride a great powerful horse as he rode across the hills.

  “Miss Powell?” he asked.

  “Mr. Langford,” she repeated as she turned away.

  “I believe you are blushing. I would ask that you favor me with the cause of your reaction, but I seem to recall you have a proclivity for polite discourse and not honest conversation.”

  “Honest conversation?” she asked as she turned back to face him, “If I were to be honest, I would be ridiculed. A woman in my position does not have the luxury of speaking her mind as wealthy heiresses and gentlemen are accustomed to doing when it suits them.”

  Mr. Langford did not glibly rebuke her concerns as he tenderly addressed them speaking softly, “If I may continue to be as bold as you claim, you are quite right. We have only been introduced this evening. It is from your cousin, Henry, that I feel I have been acquainted with you for much longer than a few hours. I consider it to be a great compliment that Henry considers you to be like his own sister.”

  “I was unaware that he speaks so fondly of me,” she replied.

  “He does and deservedly so. He admires your perseverance in the face of great hardships. I was told of your willingness to work as if it was a great inducement to my good opinion. If I spoke too freely, it was because of this familiarity I have for aspects of your life which Henry has shared.”

  “Then you are fully aware that as a ladies’ companion to my more fortunate cousins and a former governess, I must take care to guard my reputation. I may have cause to seek employment with someone other than my aunt in the future.”

  “I cannot deny that your concerns are founded. You are a woman and a companion. You are as confined in your freedom to speak as you wish but you could remedy that condition. If you choose to do so. I would welcome your independent opinion given freely in my company.”

  Sarah considered his assertation that he wished for her to speak as she chose. For many years, she had carefully guarded her thoughts as if they were secrets, envious of others like her cousins who could say what they wished. It was a privilege she did not enjoy and one she envied as she wondered how Mr. Langford could have known such a desire lingered in her heart.

  Cautiously, she said what she was thinking, “Is it forward to say that you seem to understand me so well after a short acquaintance? I am not accustomed to speaking without constraint to anyone except to my cousins. Even then I temper my opinions to suit them.”

  “I wonder what you would say if you did not feel the need to alter your opinions to suit others or society? Shall we make a pact, you and me? Shall we vow to be honest and speak with perfect candor? Shall we be considered equals?”

  “Equals? How can that be? You are a gentleman, educated, with freedoms I shall never know. I am a woman who by circumstance must be polite or else I shall lose my character. There is not work a respectable woman can do who has lost her reputation. If I were to be known as a freethinking sort of woman, I fear what repercussions I may face.”

  “That may be true, but you and I are plain people, without titles. We are free of the confines of proper society as neither of us can call ourselves a lord or a lady. What a joy it shall be to learn your thoughts, and I shall be at liberty to share my own. You have my word that I will never betray your confidence. If I have yours that you shall be entirely forthright with your opinions? Have I your word that you shall enter into this contract with me?” he asked as he raised his eyebrows expectedly.

  “That’s hardly proper for a woman to enter into a contract with a man she has only just met.”

  “You and I have only just met but your cousin can give you my character, although I wonder what he would say? Come now take a chance, it would be splendid for us both. The novelty will do us both some good. I shall have an ally. You shall have a chance to be as outlandish as you wish. It shall be our own parlor game to bide the time.”

  “I shouldn’t, but since you are well acquainted with my cousin, I suppose there can be little harm if I should agree to your terms. But that shall be the end of it. I am not obligated to you. I have no money to pay you if you should reveal my words.”

  “No, I shall not take advantage of your candor. I am not a man who relies on trading secrets for money, particularly of ladies’ companions who are not wealthy.”

  Sarah laughed, “How silly of me, of course, you will not trade what I may say for money. I did not mean to insult you by suggesting you entertained the devices of a scoundrel. I meant to convey the enormity of the power you would wield if my opinions were to become public. I may be more astonishing than you are aware.”

  “You will find, Miss Powell, that I am not easily offended. I did request that we form an alliance of sorts of perfect candor and honesty. How can I be insulted or astonished by your true feelings, when I have requested to hear them? Call me a scoundrel, a rake or any number of other insults and I shall laugh to hear you say them. Have we an agreement?”

  “It is against my better judgment, but I agree to enter into this pact, although I may regret it. Please do not make me wish I had told you no,” she replied.

  “Where shall we begin? How about in this very room? Tell me your honest opinion of the company. I am sure it will be shocking,” he said in a mischievous tone of voice.

  “I do not dare,” she answered.

  “Miss Powell, in my
company you are free to speak your mind. Think of this exercise as a parlor game. If you wish you may say whatever you wish or a secret, something you have never told anyone.”

  Sarah breathed in deeply. She did not want to voice her opinion of the subject of her aunt who treated her as if she was a beggar seeking charity. Her aunt was Henry’s mother after all, and she did not wish to appear ungrateful. Thinking of something she could share with Mr. Langford, she had to choose wisely among the thoughts and opinions she had never told anyone. The idea that she may speak as she wished as if there were no consequences was an exhilarating one and one she hoped she would not regret.

  With her chin held high, she stated, “I may not have an opinion of the present company, but I do have one of my previous employers. I did not care to work for them. Their children were misbehaved, and the father was lecherous.”

  She clamped her hand over her mouth as she shocked herself that she had voiced her displeasure with the Reardon family out loud. Glancing around the drawing room nervously, she immediately expected all conversation around her to cease at once as all the high-ranking guests audibly gasped at her statement. Maybe Lady Carmody would escort her from the drawing room as she asked her to leave the residence? But nothing happened, there were no terrible repercussions. This was exciting and dangerous, she decided.

  “A lecher, hmm? That is surprising and appalling. I have no doubt that you competently avoided him?” Mr. Langford said.

  “For a governess, it is not surprising. Not at all. Fortunately, I rebuked him, but I fear it may have cost me my position.”

  “A position you do not miss?”

  “His five sons were dreadful. And his wife was a perfect shrew!” she said then laughed nervously, “Have I said too much?”

  “No, you have told me a truth and a secret. You’re astonishingly good at speaking your mind for someone who has no prior practice at doing so.”

  “Just because a woman does not share her thoughts does not mean that she is not in possession of them,” she remarked.

  “I see I shall have to share something rather scandalous since you have told me about your former employer. Shall I recount to you that I am relieved that I am sitting with you at dinner? I prefer the company of a woman who must rely on her wits and her own strength to make her living.”

  “You are relieved to be sitting beside me? Why, when you could have had an heiress as a dinner companion?”

  “What does an heiress know of making her way in the world? If I wished to speak at length about fashion or other such dull subjects, then an heiress would suit me. As we are speaking in perfect candor, I will tell you that I prefer company such as yours. You have more to recommend you than your wardrobe or your dowry. You rely upon your own talents to survive and for that, I admire you, Miss Powell.”

  “You flatter me, Mr. Langford.”

  “No, we insisted we would only be honest. Do you recall? My admiration is genuine.”

  Sarah was basking in the compliment as her cousin, Henry, claimed Mr. Langford.

  “There you are, Langford, I insist that you join me for cards.”

  “You have no need of me. I am no use at cards,” Mr. Langford replied.

  “No use at cards, what deception is this? Our classmates have lost great sums of money to your skills at the card table,” laughed Henry.

  “You did say you preferred to be honest. What is the reason you would tell my cousin no?” Sarah smiled at Mr. Langford, arching one eyebrow as her stomach twisted with a sudden, fierce heat. Was she being in any way flirtatious? It was certainly not the behavior expected of someone in her position, not even if it made Mr. Langford’s eyes flare with a sudden gleam of light.

  “I do not wish to leave the present company. But if I am needed, how can I say no to an impassioned plea for aid?” Mr. Langford stood and with a bow, he bid Sarah a good night, looking at her for a long moment before departing. Sarah allowed herself to watch him leave, her heart quickening just a little.

  Despite her misgivings, Mr. Langford had proven himself to be a charming, if puzzling, companion. In one conversation, he managed to alter her judgment of him just enough that she looked forward to their next meeting. If only Henry had not stolen him away, she sighed, as she left the book on a nearby table. The hour was growing late. She was tired after the journey from Cheltham. With a glance towards the card table, she caught Mr. Langford’s steady gaze as he nodded in her direction. It was with this pleasant image that she retired for the evening.

  Chapter Seven

  Sarah, as was her habit, rose earlier than her cousins or the other ladies who were guests of the Baron and his family. As she descended the staircase into the quiet of the early morning, she observed the maids going about the last of their chores, cleaning the house before their master came down for breakfast. The staff hurried about, with barely a glance in Sarah’s direction.

  It was not her desire to disrupt the schedule of the maids as they rushed to complete their cleaning duties. Sarah knew full well that only the staff of a household rose at an early hour. It was common that ladies often slept later, rising in a leisurely fashion due to the late hours they kept in the drawing room. Had this been a hunting party giving during the autumn months, Sarah would have expected to see the gentlemen in the breakfast room or assembled in the hall, preparing for a day’s shooting or fishing as the season permitted. But not this morning, the snow on the ground of the estate was deep with more falling that morning.

  Sarah knew that she was quite alone, which she relished. Alone, she imagined that she lived in a mansion like Hatherley, that she was the daughter of the Baron or some other great and wealthy man. Not that she had any complaint about her own father, a lieutenant who died young. She had no complaints, but she had moments when she longed for a life that gave her the freedom to say what she wished, to do as she liked, to marry as she chose. If she had not been born in reduced circumstances, she may enjoy days of leisure. She would not have to rely on charity or employment for her livelihood. Putting aside those thoughts, she returned to the present state of affairs. It was morning, she was awake and dressed as was her custom when she was a governess. She very much wanted a cup of tea and a slice of buttered bread. Her memory of the delicious ham from her sandwich the previous afternoon gave her the idea that she may find it on the board at breakfast.

  Although it was early in the morning, she hoped to find that the breakfast had been prepared, even if the delectable ham was not on offer. If it had not, she thought that perhaps she may venture downstairs to the kitchen for a cup of tea in the servant’s hall, an idea she quickly abandoned. She was employed as a ladies’ companion, but she was not on the staff here at Hatherley. She reminded herself that she was not at liberty to roam as she did at the vicarage where the domestic staff was quite small and the modest living quarters of the family prohibited much in the way of class distinction.

  The breakfast room was as she remembered it from her previous visit to Hatherley. The room reminded her of a garden with its tall potted palm trees and light green damask on the walls. Floor to ceiling windows offered a view of the walled garden outside, a world covered in the soft white blanket of snow. A large fireplace was lit to warm the future occupants of the seats at a table nearly as long as the one in the dining room.

  Moving with determination, she thought of the savory and sweet dishes awaiting her and was impatient to enjoy a delicious meal. Walking through the doorway, she stopped. She was not alone. There was one single person at the enormous table. She was not imagining it, there was no one else there, no one except for Mr. Grainger.

  Sarah stood transfixed in the doorway. She was embarrassed all over again. What if he thought she orchestrated this meeting? It was too late to turn back, as she observed him sitting at the table, a letter in his hand.

  Mr. Grainger nodded to his footman as his gaze settled on Sarah. He did not fold the letter or put it away as he studied her, as if her presence was not compelling enough to tea
r him away from the missive he held. Without warning, Sarah felt her pulse speeding rapidly. What could she say to explain that this meeting was unexpected, that she did not wish to be alone with him?

  “Miss Powell, what brings you downstairs at this early hour?”

  She greeted him, but she wished he had not seen her, “Mr. Grainger, good morning to you.”

  Looking down, she tried to make an excuse why she could not stay as she answered, “I am the only woman present at breakfast, I shall wait until the others come down. If you will excuse me.”

  She hoped that her excuse would be sufficient to permit her to leave before she felt any more foolish than she did at this moment.

  “Miss Powell, do not go rushing away,” he said in a good-natured way which caused her to pause.

  “I must. I can see you are occupied by your letter, if you will excuse me,” she said once again as she nodded before dashing out of the room.

  This time she would not wait to hear him ask her to stay. How could she face anyone who would presume she was pursuing him when she was not? She was desperate to find a place to catch her breath before she may have to speak to anyone. Searching for a quiet place, she recalled the library was a few steps further past the music room.

  Finding the door unbolted, she prayed that no maids were polishing and cleaning the room. Slipping inside the room, she closed the door quickly. Closing her eyes, she took a long deep breath. If she could take a few moments alone, she would regain her composure. Her pride was already wounded. How would it have appeared if she was the only person in the breakfast room with Mr. Grainger? She would be a source of pity and she did not wish that.

 

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