by Tamara Gill
The next day, Sarah entered the garden from the ballroom at the appointed time. Edward was there, admiring a cluster of roses near the bench they had occupied the first night of the house party. He looked up when he heard her footsteps on the path.
“Good afternoon, Miss Payne,” Edward began with a bow. “You look very nice today; that color suits you.”
Sarah smiled and curtseyed. “Thank you, Your Grace. It is a favourite of mine.”
Edward smiled and gestured to the path before them. Sarah began to walk, and he fell in step beside her.
“I trust you slept well,” Edward inquired.
“Very well, thank you. I was exhausted.” Sarah’s hands were clasped behind her back. A sudden burst of butterflies in her stomach made her unclasp them, and she pressed one to her belly in an attempt to quiet the flutter.
Edward chuckled. “As was I. As enjoyable as dancing is, when one is not used to the activity, it can leave one wishing for days of sleep afterward.”
Sarah giggled, bringing her free hand up to cover her mouth. “That is true. I found myself wishing for just such a thing when I finally opened my eyes today.”
Edward smiled at her words. Seeing a gardener kneeling on the path ahead, he grasped Sarah’s elbow, gently steering her around the obstacle. When she stumbled, her foot landing off the path in the grass, his grip was all that kept her from falling. “Here now,” Edward said. “We must not allow you to be injured. There is to be dancing tonight after we dine; it would not do for you to turn an ankle now.” He smiled, and Sarah returned it.
“No, that would not do at all.” Sarah blushed. “Thank you for your kind rescue.”
With a grin at Sarah’s embarrassment, Edward assured her it was nothing. “This is your opportunity,” he told himself. “You are not here to only flirt… ask her questions!” Clearing his throat, Edward did just that.
“You appeared to enjoy the ball last night. Have you attended many?
“I did enjoy it,” Sarah smiled again as they resumed their slow pace through the shrubbery. “I have attended a few. My parents hosted a ball for me when I came out, and I have been to two or three others every season. I find too many of them overwhelming. I much prefer smaller events, such as dinners.”
Edward’s brows shot up at her admission. “I am shocked,” he said. “You had every appearance of enjoying yourself last evening.”
“Oh, I did,” Sarah rushed to explain. “I find much pleasure in talking to old friends and making new acquaintances, and last night’s ball was so entertaining! It is only that one cannot really get to know people at a ball, or even really at a large house party. What I like more than anything is to attend smaller, more intimate events, where conversation is possible. I would rather get to know a few people more personally than to have a large group of friends that I know little about.”
Edward nodded his head in agreement. “Yes,” he said, “I understand what you are saying.” He lifted his head, his hands clasped behind his back, and looked around the garden, seeing a few other couples wandering here and there. “It is difficult to really get to know a person at a large party. Conversations are always getting interrupted, one is always being pulled away from an activity by someone else… these things almost seem designed to prevent intimacy at every level,” he mused.
Sarah nodded. She was relieved that he seemed to understand. She had also noticed the increased number of people in the garden now, and remembered her concern about Lady Anna. Now that she had spent more time with Edward, Sarah felt that she understood him better. She had been attracted to him before, but now that she had experienced his kindness for herself, she felt she did not have to hide her thoughts. With her gaze on the path ahead, she shared her concerns about Anna. “I fear that Lady Anna will be upset with me when she learns I have met you here.”
Edward’s brows lifted a bit. “Why?”
“She assured me that you were going to offer for her hand before the party is over.” Sarah peeked at Edward, catching him rolling his eyes.
“I can assure you that I am not planning to propose to Lady Anna.” Edward sighed, shaking his head. “My mother would like me to, and I am quite certain she has spoken of it to Anna’s mother, but I am not in favour of such a match.”
“You are not?” Sarah asked breathlessly. Her heart skipped a beat at his words, and she stopped and turned toward Edward.
“No, I am not.” Edward mimicked her actions. “I am my own man, and will make my own decisions, including choosing my own duchess.” He fell silent, gazing into Sarah’s eyes. “Will you promise to dance with me this evening, after supper? I was disappointed to be denied the pleasure at the ball last night.”
Sarah could not tear her eyes away from Edward’s. “I will dance with you.” A ghost of a smile whispered across her face. “Thank you.”
Edward smiled back. “No, thank you.” His eyes roved Sarah’s face. “It is late; I should return you to the house.” He extended his elbow, grinning wider when she tucked her hand in the crook. As he led her toward the house, a pleasant silence settled over them. Finally reaching the door, he felt Sarah let go. “Miss Payne?”
Sarah turned toward him. “Yes, Your Grace?”
Edward leaned toward her and brushed his lips across her cheek. “Thank you for a lovely time,” he said as he moved back. “I look forward to our dance.”
Sarah blushed. Her lips quirked upwards even as she ducked her head down. She grasped the door handle and turned, letting herself inside the cool of the house. She looked out as she closed the door behind her, to see Edward wink, grin, and turn to walk away.
Chapter Seven
Sarah had not anticipated a meal as much in her life as she anticipated this one. She dressed with care, wanting to look her very best, though she refused to analyze her reasons.
When Sarah arrived in the drawing room with her parents, she looked around but could not find Edward. She shrugged to herself, instead joining a group of young ladies and gentlemen on the far side of the room. Two or three of the men requested dances, and Sarah agreed to them. Her smile was genuine as she spoke and laughed with the others. Before too long, supper was announced, and Sarah was escorted in by a gentleman who had been standing nearby. She was so engrossed in her conversations that she was surprised when the meal was completed.
The ladies retired to the drawing room for a brief period before being joined by the gentlemen once again, at which time the entire party entered the drawing room, where musicians were tuning up their instruments.
Sarah took a moment to look at her dance card. She wished to know what she had available for Edward. She had not seen him, but she had promised him a dance and wanted to be able to immediately tell him which was his. To her dismay, her card was full, and Edward’s name was not among her list of partners. “Oh, no,” she thought, “I promised him. I should have paid more attention. What will he think of me?” She berated herself, her happy feelings dissipating into self-recrimination. Suddenly, it occurred to her that she had not seen Edward since he left her earlier. She huffed under her breath, her eyes once again searching the room, hoping to see his handsome, charming face.
As her partner for the first dance approached, Sarah gave up the search, shrugging her shoulders. “I cannot worry about the duke’s whereabouts,” she bowed her head and murmured. “I do not know why he has not come to claim a dance, but I cannot allow it to affect me.”
“Pardon me, Miss Payne, did you have a word for me?” Her dance partner tilted his head and furrowed his brow. “I did not quite catch what you were saying.”
Flustered, Sarah blinked quickly and took a deep breath to recover her senses. “Oh, it was nothing. Shall we go?”
Deciding that Edward probably was not really interested in her and was only being polite that morning, Sarah threw herself into the dancing, the smile on her face masking the ache in her heart.
Hours later, the dancers were lining up for the last set of the night. Sarah’s pa
rtner was a dashing young viscount, the son of the Earl of Welton. Sarah smiled at him as they stepped to the middle to begin the first steps of the dance. Though tired and still a little hurt at Edward’s disappearance, she put her entire focus on the activity and her partner.
As Sarah came around another lady in the dance and reached her hands toward the viscount, as the steps of the dance called for, Edward appeared. She stopped, her eyes wide and her jaw falling open at the spectacle.
“I say, what do you think you are doing?” the viscount blustered as he turned to face the gentleman who had pulled him out of his place.
“It is my desire to dance with the lady, Viscount. Since this is the last dance of the evening, I intend to, and you shall sit out.” Edward’s tone was cool. He looked every inch the duke, with his regal bearing and commanding expression.
“Well, I do not intend to give her up, Your Grace, so you will be disappointed. I have waited all evening to dance with her, and I will not be denied now, especially by a duke who does not understand the finer aspects of polite behaviour.”
“I think not.” Edward peered down his nose. “The last I looked, a duke outranked a mere viscount. Surely you would not want your father to know you challenged someone of a higher rank? What would he say to learn that?”
The viscount paled. It was well known in the ton that his father was a stickler for propriety, and that included showing deference to those of higher social standing. Still, it grated on him to be denied this dance. After all, everyone knew the girl had a healthier dowry than many of the peers’ daughters in attendance. He gritted his teeth and scowled. Turning to Sarah, he bowed and apologized before stalking off.
Sarah had watched the entire episode unfold in horrified fascination. The three of them – she, the viscount, and Edward – had become the center of attention, something that she abhorred. She looked around, taking in all the faces turned toward them, the dancing suspended in their portion of the line. She felt herself getting hot, her face turning red.
When the viscount bowed to her, Sarah curtseyed in return. Then, she turned her attention to Edward, whose smug grin gave away his pleasure at his success. She could not hold back the rebuke on her tongue. “That was not very well done, Your Grace. You disrupted the entire dance and disgraced a man who did not deserve it.” She looked around them at the other participants, most of whom were either staring openly or using their need to re-form the line to sneak peeks out of the corners of their eyes.
Edward did not reply to Sarah’s rebuke. Instead, he grinned at her and reached for her hands. He could see that she was annoyed by his high-handed behaviour, so he set out to charm her into smiling again. “I apologize for not being here earlier. I was called away on business that could not be put off.”
Sarah thought about his words as she took a turn around the lady beside her and waited for that lady to do the same to her. Though she was still upset with the fuss he had made, she could not deny the relief she felt that he was now her dance partner. As she took his hand again, she tilted her head and looked at him. “I will accept your apology. Thank you.” She longed to ask him what business took him away, but dared not be so impertinent.
The corner of Edward’s lips lifted in another smirk as he tipped his head toward Sarah. For the rest of the set, he engaged her in conversation, succeeding in making her smile several times.
Across the room, Edward’s mother had seen the confrontation between her son and the viscount. She narrowed her eyes as she observed the couple, who were now taking their place again and beginning the dance steps. The Duchess of Haston sat beside her, taking a break from her duties as hostess. The dowager leaned toward her. “Did you see what I did,” she whispered to her friend.
Duchess Haston’s fan stopped fluttering before her face and hid her mouth as she replied. “I did. What do you suppose Amblingshire meant by that?”
“I do not know,” the dowager said, “but I intend to find out. He knows what my expectations are; I see no reason for him to give so much attention to the daughter of a tradesman, no matter how wealthy.”
Duchess Haston’s head spun toward her friend. “You do not think he is considering her as a marriage partner? He is practically engaged to Anna!”
“Shh, keep your voice down,” the dowager warned the duchess. “He will do the right thing. I will guarantee it.” She patted her hostess’ hand. “I promise you, Edward will marry Anna. I will see to it myself.”
The Dowager Duchess of Amblingshire was not the only person in the room to be affronted by Edward’s behaviour. Lady Anna Bramlett was standing down the line four or five places from Sarah when Amblingshire had cut in on the viscount. Her eyes narrowed as she took in the scene. Teeth gritted, she stood silently watching it unfold. As the gentlemen worked it out and the earl’s son stalked away, she stiffened her spine and returned to her place.
Lady Anna was accustomed to getting her way. Her parents had assured her that she would be the next Duchess of Amblingshire, something the dowager duchess had supported.
Anna looked at her partner as he took her hands for the next steps of the dance. He was handsome and danced very well, and he was a marquess who would one day, when his father died, become a duke. He was perfectly acceptable. He was not Amblingshire, but he would do if need be. Anna smiled and replied to his comment about the number of dancers.
Lady Anna was the daughter of a duke, the highest of peers and second in standing only to the Prince Regent, and she wore her status proudly. She had no intention of marrying below herself, not even to an earl or viscount. She knew, however, that she must marry and that there were only so many dukes and heirs to dukes in the Kingdom. So, though she schemed and planned to catch Amblingshire, she did not want to put any potential mate off. Instead, she smiled sweetly and hung on every word of every gentleman who approached. She was satisfied that, even if she could not get Edward to come up to scratch, there were other gentlemen who would happily tie themselves to her.
Lady Anna’s thoughts then turned to Sarah, her new friend. “Friend,” she scoffed to herself. Sarah had seemed pliable enough when they were first introduced and had been eager to be friendly. She had not proved to be a gossip or a whiner, and in that, Anna and Sarah were similar. But, Anna had specifically told Sarah that Amblingshire was hers. Anna did not take such betrayals lightly. As the dance came to an end, Anna promised herself that she would not allow Edward to be snatched away from her.
Chapter Eight
Oblivious to the maneuverings of Lady Anna and the dowager duchess, Edward and Sarah agreed to walk in the garden again the next morning. They met at the bench where they had their first conversation.
“Good morning, Your Grace.” Sarah dipped into a graceful curtsey.
“Good morning.” Edward lifted his face to the sun and took a deep breath. “It is a beautiful one, is it not?” He gestured to the path. “Shall we walk while we talk?” The grin that charmed every lady he knew made its appearance.
Sarah was not immune to his smile. She returned it and stepped in the direction Edward had indicated. “My mother was all in a dither about the spectacle you made last night.”
Edward laughed. “As was mine. I confess I stopped listening to her displeasure after the first sentence.”
Sarah chuckled and ducked her head. Her hands were clasped in front of her, and she gripped them tightly to keep herself from latching onto his arm. “I fear my mother makes it impossible to ignore her. She keeps asking questions that require more than a yes or no for an answer.”
Edward grinned at Sarah’s words regarding Mrs Payne. “I found your mother to be charming. She clearly loves you very much.”
“She does, and I love her. As her only surviving child, she has doted on me, and I am devoted to her.”
“Not every daughter would be so with their mother.” Edward paused. “Has she lost other children?”
“Yes,” Sarah nodded. “She lost two before they were born, and two as infants. I had
an older brother and a younger sister.” Though such tragedies were a fact of life and her mother had healed as much as one can from them, Sarah still found them sad.
Sarah’s face showed the sadness and her voice trembled slightly as she spoke of her lost siblings, who she had never really known.
“My mother has not spoken of other losses, though that does not mean there were none. I suppose that is not something a woman would share with her son.”
Sarah tilted her head to the side as she thought. “Perhaps not. Did your father not speak of them to you? Perhaps you were the only child they were gifted with.”
“I would imagine that is the truth of it there. My father never said a word, either.” Edward shrugged. “Maybe I will take a peek into the family Bible when I get home.”
“Have you never looked before?” Sarah’s eyes were wide. “I adore perusing ours at home. Papa purchased it when I was small. He asked all of our family about their memories of our ancestors and filled in as many of the lines as he could. There is so much history represented by those names!”
Edward’s lips had lifted into another small smile. “Your enthusiasm for the occupation is inspiring. I confess I have never done such a thing. I was not permitted into my father’s study when I was a child, and that is where the tome is kept. I suppose I simply never thought about it. Were there any surprises in your family’s history? Any pirates or outlaws, or perhaps a prince?”
Sarah laughed at Edward’s tease. “I do not recall anything unexpected in our family’s past, at least nothing that my parents would have told me about.”
“No,’ Edward chuckled, “I guess that would be inappropriate for a young girl’s ears.” The pair fell silent for a few minutes. Clearing his throat, the duke queried. “Do you ride?”
“I do,” Sarah stated. “It was part of the education I received at school. I do not have as much experience as some of the other ladies, but I am fairly proficient.”
“Have you ever ridden the hunt?” Edward glanced at Sarah and then looked ahead once more.
