by Rose Pearson
Actions that still clung to him, leaving their dirt and stain on his skin.
Clearing his throat and trying not to drop his head with the sense of mortification that rose within him, Daniel followed the butler and walked into the drawing-room where he knew both Lady Smithton and Lord Havisham would be waiting.
“Good afternoon, Lord Ruddington,” came the welcoming voice of Lady Smithton. “Thank you for attending.”
“How could I refuse?” he asked, bowing low and delaying the moment where he would have to look directly at them both. “I have much to explain, I know.” Raising his head, he looked first at Lady Smithton, then at Lord Havisham, and then, much to his shock, to Miss Crosby sitting quietly in a chair between them both.
“You have nothing to explain, Lord Ruddington,” Lady Smithton replied gently. “Miss Crosby has explained it all to us already.”
Daniel stared at Miss Crosby, who was not quite managing to look at him. Her gaze was slightly to his left, her cheeks a little pink and her hands clenched tightly together in her lap.
“I—I do not understand,” he stammered, still not quite certain what this meant. “Miss Crosby has told you everything.”
“Indeed she has,” Lord Havisham answered, his voice grave and his expression rather stern. “Everything has been explained to us, Lord Ruddington. Your sister, Mr. Marks, Lord Britton, and your understandable need to find justice for your family.”
“Although we cannot condone what you did to seek such justice,” Lady Smithton added quickly. “But it is, in a way, understandable.”
Daniel swallowed hard, not looking at anyone but Miss Crosby. He could not quite believe what she had done, could not quite accept she was now in the very same room as he. What did this mean? Surely it could not mean she wanted to resume their acquaintance, for that would be more than he deserved.
“I suppose, then, the only thing that is required of me is to apologize profusely for my actions,” he said, seeing how Miss Crosby finally lifted her eyes to his, the blue reminding him of the swirling sea. “I cannot tell you how wrong I know myself to have been. I am only grateful my conscience refused to give up until I was finally freed from my urge to find revenge and to realize what dreadful shame I was about to bring on Miss Marks.” His throat constricted, but he forced himself to carry on. “She was entirely innocent. She had nothing to do with what had occurred between my sister and Mr. Marks and yet I was to use her shame and mortification to bring about what I saw as justice for her father and brother’s lack of propriety, honesty, and truthfulness.” Shaking his head, he spread his hands, feeling hopelessness run through him. “I should have stepped back from that a long time beforehand. Even as I began to set my plan in motion, I felt myself pull away. When I first met you, Miss Crosby, I found my heart beginning to turn away from the anger it had long held.” He could see how her eyes glistened and felt his heart cry out in sorrow. “I should never have allowed myself to continue with Miss Marks when I knew my heart was filled with an affection for you, Miss Crosby. Even though I tried to remove it from my heart, even though I tried to turn away from it, it would not leave me. Instead, my affection only grew and grew, bursting with a fresh newness every single day. I tried to bury it deep within myself, to prevent it from affecting me, but it continued to dog me. When I saw you standing there, Miss Crosby, looking at me with such horror in your expression, I felt myself more foolish than ever before. My regret overwhelmed me, my shame heavy upon my shoulders as it still is at this moment. Miss Crosby, I have acted shamefully, and I can only imagine the pain that must have sliced through your heart at that very moment. I take every responsibility for that and beg you that, if there is any kindness in your heart towards me, you might be able to forgive me for what I sought to do. It is more than I deserve and yet—”
“A very eloquent speech, Lord Ruddington,” Lady Smithton interrupted, rising to her feet and smiling at him with a gentleness that told him he was not seen as the blaggard he thought himself to be. “But Lord Havisham and I shall depart from you for a few minutes. We shall leave you to speak to Miss Crosby alone.”
Daniel began to speak but found himself unable to do so. Instead, he stared at Lady Smithton, his heart thundering furiously.
“Only for a few minutes, of course,” Lady Smithton continued as Lord Havisham offered her his arm, making Lady Smithton smile warmly at him. “Do excuse us, Lord Ruddington.”
“Wait.”
His voice was strangled, not at all certain whether this was a wise thing for Lady Smithton to place upon Miss Crosby. “I do not think Miss Crosby should be forced into this situation, Lady Smithton. After all, I—”
“I was the one who requested this, Lord Ruddington.”
His eyes widened in astonishment as he turned to look at Miss Crosby. She had risen to her feet also, her hands coupled in front of her and her head lifted. Looking directly at him, she gave him a small but determined smile, making his spirits suddenly flare with unexpected excitement.
“You want to speak to me alone, Miss Crosby?” he asked, a little more quietly. “Are you quite certain?”
“Indeed,” she answered, taking a few steps closer to him. “I have thought a good deal about what your sister told me and what she asked me to consider. There are some things I wish to say to you directly and privately, Lord Ruddington. Is that something you would be willing to grant me? A short audience?”
He swallowed hard, nodding fervently when words, he knew, could not express how much he desired to do just as she asked.
“We shall return presently,” Lady Smithton murmured, but Daniel did not so much as look at her. His gaze was fixed upon Miss Crosby and on the gentle smile that lingered on her face. This was almost entirely too wonderful to be believed. After everything he had done, was she truly willing to give him her forgiveness? A forgiveness he felt he did not deserve? He did not hear the door closing but felt the sudden shift in the atmosphere of the room. It seemed to buzz with tension: a heightened awareness that they were, now, entirely alone.
“Lord Ruddington,” Miss Crosby began, moving closer towards him so they stood only a few steps apart. “I have had some time to think about what has occurred of late.”
He nodded, pressing his lips together so that he would keep himself from begging her to forgive him when he had only just done so.
“And I have spoken at great length to your sister,” Miss Crosby continued, her brows lowering for a moment. “A truly terrible ordeal, I think.”
The memory of when he had first had news of what had occurred slammed back into his mind. “It was,” he said quietly, aware of the sharp pain that still ran through him whenever he thought of it. “My father told me how she had been bruised in her attempts to escape from Mr. Marks. Had she not screamed, then her companion might not have found her in time.”
Miss Crosby closed her eyes and sighed heavily, clearly understanding a little of what he must have felt. “I cannot imagine the anger that coursed through you when you heard of what they had done in refusing to bring justice to her.”
“But I should not have sought to bring such dark revenge to the family in the way I did,” he told her, not wanting to shy away from his responsibility. “And I can truly say I am glad I did not. I am glad I turned away even though it was only moments before I led her to the carriage. I can see now I was driven by anger that had burned through me for a long, long time. I wanted to avenge my sister, even though she has been happily married for some time.” Closing his eyes tightly, he lowered his head. “I should not have even—”
“Ruddington.”
Miss Crosby had drawn even closer to him now, her hand pressed against his chest. Opening his eyes, he looked down at her upturned face, feeling shock running through him from where her fingers rested on him.
“You have apologized enough,” Miss Crosby said softly. “You need not continue to do so, Lord Ruddington. I can see your regret and, after some consideration, I believe you to be trustworthy and h
onest. You have not tried to simply laugh off your decision but have seen it to be a grave matter.” A small smile touched the corner of her lips. “That is what has convinced me that I can trust you, Lord Ruddington. I can trust your words. I can trust your character, marred as it was by your anger. I can see you are a gentleman of honor, who made one dark mistake but whose conscience saved him from fulfilling it—and it is with this knowledge that I come to you now.”
Daniel’s heart began to race as Miss Crosby continued to look up at him, her hand still settled upon his chest. What was it she was going to say?
“I must ask you, Ruddington, whether or not you meant what you said to me that evening,” Miss Crosby continued, her voice soft. “I must know whether or not it was real.”
Daniel frowned, looking down into her eyes and seeing the questions there. “If you are asking me whether I meant every word I said as regarded you, Miss Crosby, then I can easily inform you that it was entirely true. My thoughts kept returning to you, over and over again, reminding me that if I were to do this disastrous thing, I should be deliberately setting myself apart from you for the rest of my days. I would be injuring you most painfully whilst bringing much sorrow to my own heart. It was the thought of you, Miss Crosby, that forced me to set my back against that plan. All because I realized, in that one moment, that what I felt for you was more than a mere affection, a gentle fondness.” His throat constricted, his whole body burning with the awareness of what he was about to say. “I realized I loved you, Miss Crosby. And I love you still, even though I am entirely unworthy of you.”
At this, Miss Crosby’s eyes flooded with tears, although, much to Daniel’s relief, a smile began to lift her lips.
“I love you also, Ruddington,” she whispered, her other hand now settling on his shoulder. “I have been so deeply troubled and confused but, over the last few days as I have thought of what I have learned, thought of what I feel, and thought of what might now be, I have come to the decision that I cannot set aside what I feel for you. There is no need to ask for forgiveness, Ruddington, for it is already there waiting for you. I have nothing but love for you now, knowing you are a gentleman of honor who will not shirk from his wrongdoing but rather turn and face it directly. There is nothing barring me from drawing close to you now, my dear sir. That is...” She blushed and dipped her head for a moment. “That is, if you would be glad of me doing so.”
He did not allow her to question it for even a moment. Lowering his head, he bent to brush his lips against hers, feeling every single sensation bursting through him all at once. It ran to the tips of his fingers as he caught her about the waist, ran to his lips as he kissed her, and ran to his heart as it filled with love anew.
“I can hardly believe this to be true,” he whispered, resting his forehead against hers as she held her arms about his neck. “What you have given me is the greatest gift imaginable, Miss Crosby. I shall be utterly devoted to you from this moment onwards, for I do not want to live my life without you. I cannot imagine even a day gone from your presence.” Opening his eyes, he looked down into her face and saw her smiling back at him, her expression one of sheer joy.
“You know I would not refuse you anything you asked, Ruddington,” she whispered, her eyes shining. “But you must promise to do one thing for me also.”
“Anything,” he said fervently, his heart soaring towards heaven. “Name it, Miss Crosby, and I will do it.”
She laughed softly, reached up on tiptoe, and kissed him. “Do call me ‘Sarah,’ my love,” she said, making him smile. “I long to hear my name upon your lips.”
Reaching up, he brushed a stray curl from her cheek, tucking it gently behind her ear. “Sarah,” he said, seeing how her color mounted and her eyes glowed with happiness. “Sarah Crosby, the lady who has stolen my heart and who shall, forever, have my love, my gratitude, and my heart.”
I hope you enjoyed Sarah and Daniel’s story! The next book in the series is A Foolish Wager.
A Foolish Wager
A Lady with a limp. A Gentleman blackmailed in a wager. Can anything good come of this?
Lady Amelia Ferguson cannot remember the day she fell from the apple tree in the orchard, but she has carried the consequences of it ever since.
Even though she is the daughter of the late Earl of Stockbridge, London society do not regard her as of any importance because of her limp. She hopes that Lady Smithton can help her in her dream of finding a kind, gentle, and accepting gentleman for a husband.
Lord Oliver Montague is a gentleman with both fortune and influence. Blackmailed into a wager he must take or lose his reputation in the ton, he is forced to court Lady Amelia and try to win the bet of making Lady Amelia fall in love with him and state those words aloud.
However, the moment he sees her, Oliver begins to fear he has made a dreadful mistake. But what can he do when so much is at stake?
Prologue
“Lady Amelia, come down from there at once!”
Lady Amelia did nothing but giggle and climb higher, choosing quite firmly to ignore the anxious voice of her governess. She had climbed this particular tree on many previous occasions and certainly was not about to stop doing so now!
“You must desist!” her governess called, now sounding both angry and upset. “Your father will be greatly displeased.”
Amelia grimaced and placed her hand on a higher branch. She knew very well that her father, the Earl of Stockbridge, was not at home at present and certainly would not care about what she had been doing given he showed her very little interest. She reminded him too much of her mother, who had died giving birth to Amelia some twelve years ago.
“Please!” her governess called as Amelia climbed higher, with an even greater determination than before. “Do stop, Lady Amelia. You must come down.”
Amelia said nothing, holding onto a firm branch and swinging one leg up and over a thick branch she fully intended to sit on. From this height, she would be able to see across the whole estate and, if she continued to ignore her governess, might find a few minutes of enjoyment.
Unfortunately, Amelia’s skirts and petticoats—which she had done her best to sweep out of the way of her feet—decided not to do as Amelia wished. They chose, instead, to become entangled, meaning she could not easily lift her foot up and over the branch.
Her breath caught, her hands tightening on the branch whilst her other foot teetered on the thinner branch below. Her foot was well and truly caught, and she could not let go of her grasp on the tree to sort herself out.
“Lady Amelia!”
Her governess sounded afraid now, perhaps able to see the difficulty Amelia was in. “Will you please come down!”
Amelia tried to shout for help, feeling her hands slip as she tried her best to remove her foot from her skirts. And then, before she knew it, she was falling.
Falling was meant to be painless, but Amelia felt as though she bounced off every single tree branch as she fell. The breath was thrown from her body as she landed, hard, hearing a sickening crack that seemed to come not from the tree, but from her.
And then, her governess started to scream. Amelia wanted to tell her to be quiet, wanted to say she was quite all right and had only fallen a little way, but found she could not seem to say a single word. It was as though she were caught between wakefulness and a dream, not able to speak and certainly not able to move.
Pain began to spread through Amelia’s body as she lay on the grass, her governess still screaming for help. Blinking rapidly against the agony, Amelia sucked in air, trying to push the pain away, trying to force it down, but it only continued to grow and grow within her, until a scream left her lips and began to join in with the cries of her governess. Her leg began to burn with a deep and furious pain and, as she lifted her head just a little to look at it, Amelia realized, with horror, it now sat at a very strange angle indeed.
Throwing her head back against the grass, Amelia screamed again, in both pain and fear. Her governess was
speaking rapidly to someone—the gardener, perhaps—but this did not bring Amelia any comfort from her agony.
“We shall have the surgeon here very soon, Lady Amelia,” she heard her governess say as a whimper began to leave her throat, replacing the screams. “You shall be quite all right, I am sure of it.”
Amelia began to cry, hot tears slipping down her cheeks as she opened her eyes to see her governess, ashen-faced, kneeling beside her.
“Do not fear,” her governess continued, her smile tremulous as she pressed one hand lightly on Amelia’s forehead. “You will be well again very soon, Lady Amelia. There may be pain for a while, but soon, it will go, and you will be yourself again. You will just have to be brave for a time. Do you think you can do that?”
Amelia closed her eyes again and began to sob. The pain seemed to be a part of her now as though it would never fully allow her to escape from it and, despite the comforting words of her governess, Amelia began to think she would never fully escape this agony, feeling it take a firm hold of her frame.
“They are coming now,” the governess continued, wiping Amelia’s tears. “You shall have to be very brave now, Lady Amelia, but we shall soon have you inside and in bed, where you will begin to recover. Have no fear. It will all be over very soon.”
Chapter One
“This is to be the year you are wed, Amelia.”
Lady Amelia shook her head but lowered her gaze, knowing she could not contradict her uncle. Her father, the previous Earl of Stockbridge, had passed away some three years ago, and as such, his brother and her uncle, had taken the title. After her year of mourning, her uncle had accompanied her to London for her first season, which had not gone well at all. This now being her second season, he clearly expected her to find a husband just as soon as she could.
