by Joyce Alec
It was all so bewildering that Sarah did not quite know how to take it all in. The staff were well mannered and polite, just as she would have expected, but there appeared to be such a great number of them that Sarah was not quite sure what to do. Mr. Stanton had never employed a butler before, nor any footmen, so to have so many servants waiting on her was an altogether new experience. The butler introduced her to them all, one at a time, leaving Sarah feeling almost breathless with her sudden change in circumstances.
“Should you like a tour of the house, Miss Weston?” the butler asked, a tall, wiry man with a kind face. “It is large but beautifully airy with a well-stocked library and even a small ballroom.”
“A ballroom?” Sarah repeated, astonished. “Good gracious.”
“I will, of course, have your things taken to your room at once,” the butler continued, gesturing to a few footmen. “And I thought it best to keep country hours as regards the dinner hour.”
Sarah realized that he was looking at her with a somewhat inquiring expression on his face, clearly waiting for her to speak.
“Yes, of course,” she stammered, still very much unused to having her own household to run. “Thank you.”
“There are also the menus for this week that the housekeeper would like to go over with you, but that is not of any particular urgency,” the butler continued, his expression giving very little away. “Should lamb do for this evening?”
Swallowing hard, Sarah nodded and tried to smile, suddenly feeling quite out of place in her own home.
“Wonderful,” the butler murmured, walking a few steps and opening one arm towards the rest of the house. “Should you like to start with the drawing room?”
Nodding, Sarah grasped Mrs. Avis’s arm firmly, looping it through her own. She had suddenly felt very alone and did not altogether like that feeling nor the feeling that she required Mrs. Avis’s company so that she would not feel so overwhelmed.
“Courage, Miss Weston,” Mrs. Avis murmured, clearly aware of Sarah’s astonishment. “You will become used to all this very soon, I am sure. Just do not give your staff any indication that you are feeling in such a way, else they might take advantage of that in some way.”
Sarah, not knowing precisely what Mrs. Avis meant, simply nodded and followed the butler into the drawing room, lifting her chin just a little. This was her new life, the very first piece of the puzzle slotting into place. Whoever had sent her away had a great deal of wealth and was clearly part of the gentry. Did this mean that she was, perhaps, titled? Did she have a standing she was unaware of? Or was it that she was just meant to live comfortably for the rest of her days in the hope that she would never question her parentage?
“This is a beautiful house,” Mrs. Avis murmured, pulling Sarah from her thoughts. “You are very blessed, Sarah, to be able to call this place your own.”
Sarah looked around the room, taking it all in and finding her heart lifting with a tug of happiness. “Yes,” she murmured quietly. “Yes, I believe I am.”
7
Sarah gave herself three days before deciding to call upon Lord Thorndyke in person. This was now the third day that she had sent a note around in the early morning, as Mrs. Avis told her would be expected, but yet again, she did not receive any response.
“It is somewhat troubling that I have not yet heard from him,” she murmured to herself, wandering to the drawing room window and looking through the lace curtains at the driveway beyond. She wondered what the London streets would be like at this time of day, wondering if they would be busy with the beau monde or if that was to come later, perhaps in the afternoon. One thing she had learned from Mrs. Avis was that it was important for those in the ton to be seen. This meant that each outing was carefully planned. Gentlemen would call on ladies that they had interest in, whereas those who were still without any kind of firm attachment might wander around Hyde Park in the hope of being seen before returning home to prepare for whatever evening’s entertainment they had been invited to.
It all seemed rather pointless to Sarah, who did not care in the least for anything of the kind. All she wanted was to speak with Lord Thorndyke in the hope that he might give her some kind of clue as to where she had come from.
“You cannot go there without an introduction, however,” Mrs. Avis continued, as Sarah came back to sit down opposite her. “I do not know the gentleman, and it is a little surprising for a lady to simply appear at a gentleman’s door without having been introduced first.”
“I do not have time for such things,” Sarah replied impatiently. “Either the man knows something about his father’s arrangements for me, or he does not. I shall have to find out which it is before thinking about my next steps.”
Mrs. Avis did not look pleased with this idea, but Sarah disregarded her frustration at once. Mrs. Avis could not understand the deep, unsettling questions in Sarah’s heart; she did not understand her urgency.
“You will come with me, will you not?” Sarah asked quietly. “I mean to go this very afternoon, even if he has not replied to me. I simply must know.”
Mrs. Avis nodded without hesitation. “But of course. However, I insist that you wear one of your new gowns, Sarah, and allow the maid to fix your hair. If you are to go without an introduction, then you must make as charming an impression as you can.”
Sarah, who was still getting used to having a maid not only help her change but do her hair in a variety of styles, groaned. “But it takes so long, Mrs. Avis.”
“Then I suggest you go this very moment,” Mrs. Avis replied with a warm smile. “I will be waiting for you, have no doubt.”
It was with shaking hands and swirling nerves that Sarah found herself knocking at the front door of Lord Thorndyke’s townhouse. She had been so confident before, and yet now, standing here waiting for the butler to allow her in, she began to wonder if she had made some kind of terrible mistake. Perhaps Lord Thorndyke would think her unpardonably rude and would throw her from his house and demand she never return. Perhaps Mrs. Avis had been correct in suggesting they find a way to introduce her properly.
“Miss Weston, here to see Lord Thorndyke,” she squeaked, handing the butler her card and swallowing her relief when he took it without question, silently thanking Mrs. Avis for insisting she find someone to make her some cards the very day they arrived.
“Lord Thorndyke is unable to see visitors at the moment, Miss Weston,” the butler replied with an apologetic smile. “Might I suggest you return another time.”
He made to shut the door, but caught by a sudden fear, Sarah put one foot in the doorway, ignoring Mrs. Avis’s gasp.
“I must see him,” she insisted, keeping her gaze as firm as her voice as she attempted to remain as brave as she could despite the nerves rolling in her stomach. “It is of great importance.”
The butler frowned, his apologetic smile long gone. “This is highly irregular, Miss Weston. As I have said—”
“I will wait,” Sarah said, firmly. “If you could just show me where to sit, then I shall happily wait for him to spare me a few minutes, for that is all I require.”
The butler stared at her for a few minutes, his expression dark, but Sarah did not back down. She could not—not now. Especially when it seemed that Lord Thorndyke had no intention of responding to her letters.
“I have written to him the last three days and received no response,” she said sharply. “I have come to London for the express reason of speaking with Lord Thorndyke and will not be refused again.”
Still frowning, the butler let out a barely audible sigh and opened the door wider, allowing her inside.
“The drawing room is this way, Miss Weston,” he murmured, with only a faint hint of disdain in his voice. “Although I may warn you that it could be some hours before he returns.”
“Returns?”
Mrs. Avis shot her a look that told Sarah she should not be asking questions such as this, feeling her cheeks burn as the butler cleared his throat.
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“Business, Miss Weston,” the butler replied eventually, opening the door to a bright, airy drawing room. “Should you require a tea tray?”
Sarah nodded, sitting down carefully. “Thank you, that would be appreciated.”
“I shall inform the master that you are here the moment he returns,” the butler murmured quietly. “Do excuse me.”
Three hours passed, and Sarah felt herself growing more and more frustrated with the invisible Lord Thorndyke. He had not yet appeared, and Sarah felt as though he were deliberately avoiding her despite having never made his acquaintance.
“Do not be too hasty to judge him,” Mrs. Avis murmured, as Sarah let out her frustration in a torrent of words. “Lord Thorndyke is clearly unaware of your presence in his home, and as such, he does not feel the need to hurry his business along. You have waited this long, my dear. Do not hasten away in frustration but be patient.”
Crossing and uncrossing her ankles, Sarah sat back in her chair and let out a long breath, ignoring Mrs. Avis’s sharp look at her lack of decorum. She did not care that she was not sitting correctly, not when it was just herself and Mrs. Avis within the room.
Suddenly, the sound of a loud, angry voice reached her ears, winding its way under the door towards her. Sitting up straight, Sarah readjusted her skirts, trying her best not to worry about Lord Thorndyke’s reaction to her. It was clear that the man was unhappy, although whether or not that was to do with her presence, she was not at all certain.
“Remember to rise the moment he comes in,” Mrs. Avis murmured, her face drawn with anxiety. “Goodness, he does not sound pleased in the least, Sarah.”
Sarah did not have time to respond, for the door opened and in stormed a gentleman with nothing but fury on his face. Sarah rose at once and dropped into a curtsy, aware of just how angry the man was.
“Lord Thorndyke?” she asked, as he folded his arms and frowned at her.
The man was tall, broad shouldered. He had a youthful face and strong features, his brown hair matching the color of his eyes.
“Are you truly Miss Weston?” he asked, his voice loud and rasping. “Miss Sarah Weston?”
She nodded, her hands tightening, as she sat back down and placed them in her lap. Her legs were shaking, as her nerves assailed her, her heart hammering wildly at the fierce look in his eyes.
“This is Mrs. Avis, my companion,” she said slowly. “I did not mean to upset you, Lord Thorndyke, but there are some question that I must ask you. I could not wait any longer, especially since my notes had not been returned.”
He shook his head, passing one hand over his eyes as a quiet groan escaped him. “Miss Weston, did you never think that no response was, in itself, a response? I did not want you here. I never dreamed that you would call without introduction.”
Heat seared her cheeks.
“But, then again, perhaps you do not know all that you ought for your station. You have not been living as the person you are, of course. I had forgotten that.”
That made Sarah frown, her eyes darting to Mrs. Avis and back to Lord Thorndyke. It was as though he had been talking to himself, forgetting that she was there. “Whatever do you mean?”
“Had you stayed in your townhouse, then your presence in London might have remained quiet, but now, it seems, I must do what I promised. He will, of course, have had a man watching the house.”
Frustration rose in Sarah’s chest. “Who? Of what are you speaking, Lord Thorndyke? You are keeping me completely in the dark, and I do not find it in any way helpful. I have come here for answers and—”
“And you shall get them,” he said gravely, “but not at this very moment. Come, Miss Weston. We must be off.”
He rose to his feet and held out his hand, but Sarah remained exactly where she was, refusing to go near him.
“Now,” he said, his tone brooking no argument. “It is imperative.”
Sarah shook her head, sitting a little further back in her chair and folding her arms across her chest. She was suddenly filled with a deep dislike of this particular gentleman, who appeared to know a great more than she did and yet was choosing to order her about as though he had the right to do so.
“I will not be going anywhere with you, Lord Thorndyke,” she said firmly. “Not until I have a reasonable explanation as to who you are and what you know of me.”
Lord Thorndyke shook his head and reached for her, only for Sarah to jerk backward in her chair, suddenly horrified at the realization that he intended to take her somewhere by force.
“Lord Thorndyke!” she exclaimed, as Mrs. Avis rose from her chair, hurrying to Sarah’s side. “You will not touch me again!”
He growled, as Mrs. Avis elbowed her way past him, looping one arm through Sarah’s as she rose to her feet.
“Mrs. Avis, I think it is best we go,” she said firmly, ignoring the clamoring of her heart as it screamed in fright. “Lord Thorndyke, until you are willing to speak to me about what you know, I will go about my life just as I please. I have already had one man order my life for me, although he did it out of the goodness of his heart and because he was as much in the dark as I was. You, on the other hand, clearly know more about me and my heritage, and yet you appear to think you can order me about as you please despite not saying anything about your information to me.” She stepped away from him, making her way towards the door. “I will not be treated so.”
Lord Thorndyke’s face grew angry, as she walked past him, his hands curled into fists. “Miss Weston, this is for your own safety.”
“What is?” she challenged, turning towards him and arching one eyebrow. “What is it that I must do?”
He planted his feet and fixed his gaze on her, as though by sheer force of will he would have her obey. “You are to be my bride.”
Sarah froze for a moment before a strangled laugh left her throat, her eyes wide with astonishment.
“That is one of the most ridiculous things I have ever heard. Good afternoon to you. I do hope that you will call upon me soon so that we might talk.”
“You must,” he insisted, hurrying over to her, as she opened the door. “It is too dangerous otherwise.”
Sarah lifted her chin and glared at him, her foot wedged painfully in the door as he leaned on it. “And yet I find myself disinclined to accept you without any knowledge as to why I should do so.”
“I will tell you everything, but only after we are wed. You must be under my protection, and for what it is worth, we are already betrothed. My solicitors have the contract should you wish to see it, although I did hope that it would never come to this.”
The thought of her fortune suddenly sprang to her mind. “I do hope that it is not that you wish to take possession of my wealth, Lord Thorndyke,” she said slowly, seeing his face burn with a sudden fire. “You must be addled to think that I would simply agree to marry a man I have never met, just because he says so. Now, are you going to explain it all to me, or will you let me leave to return home?” Keeping her eyes on his, Sarah looked up at Lord Thorndyke steadily, her courage mounting with every second.
“I cannot talk about this now,” he said quietly, as though trying to tell her something with the look in his eyes. “Please, stay, Miss Weston. Come to the church with me.”
Sighing heavily, Sarah shook her head and wrenched the door open. “Good day, Lord Thorndyke. I do hope that we will have the opportunity to speak again soon.” And, with that, she marched out of the drawing room and made her way to the front door with Mrs. Avis in tow, feeling stronger than she had ever done before.
8
“Are you not dancing this evening, Lord Thorndyke?”
James shrugged and threw back the rest of his brandy. “Not this evening, Higgs.”
“That is most unlike you, especially at Almacks,” Viscount Higgs replied, looking a trifle concerned. “You are not unwell, I hope?”
James shook his head. “No. Just caught up with my thoughts, Higgs.”
His frien
d nodded sagely. “I see. Of course. One of the many responsibilities and duties of the title, is it not? To be caught up with thoughts?”
Unable to stop himself from smiling, James nodded. “Apparently so.” Taking his friend’s arm, he drew him back into the shadows, aware that he could tell him almost anything.
“Higgs, you are not to breathe a word of this, but the lady I told you about…she has appeared at my doorstep.”
Lord Higgs sucked in a breath, letting it out slowly as his eyes widened.
“She did not immediately accept coming to the church with me, despite the contract and license,” James continued with a slight shrug. “It was foolish of me to think that she would, but I could not tell her the reasons why she was required to do so.”
“Why not?” Higgs asked, frowning. “She was in your home, was she not? What safer place could there be?”
James shook his head, his gut tightening. “She had a companion with her, a Mrs. Avis. I have no idea who she is, and until I do, I cannot talk openly with Miss Weston.”
Higgs sighed heavily, shaking his head. “That is wise, I suppose, but it does make things a trifle difficult for you.”
“Yes, it does,” James replied heavily. “I had ignored her notes in the hope that I would have some time to collect my thoughts and make plans for the future, never thinking that she would be as improper as to simply appear at my house.” To his surprise, James found himself chuckling as he remembered the mulish look on Miss Weston’s face. “She is a stubborn creature; that is for certain.”
“And a pretty one?”
James considered for a moment, recalling Miss Weston’s dark brown tresses and the sparkle in her blue eyes. She had delicate features, and yet there was something that told him she had a hidden strength deep within. “Yes, she is that. I do not think I should mind having her on my arm once she is under my protection, of course.”
“And are you certain you still need to marry her?” his friend said slowly. “Could you not simply find another way to ensure she is kept safe?”
