“Am I a simpleton or something?” Sara cried, torn between bursting into tears and screaming in fury. “Why does everyone think they know what’s better for me than I do?”
Ignoring her, he demanded, “Who is the letter from, Sara? It’s from him, isn’t it? The one your parents took you away from?”
“I assume so yes,” she admitted angrily, through clenched teeth. “But I won’t know until you give it to me and let me read it!”
“I’ve known you your whole life, Sara Juliette Fleming, and if you believe I’m doing any of this to be mean to you, or to hurt you, then you don’t know me at all,” he said very quietly before he handed her the letter.
Slowly she reached for it. “Thank you.”
Phillip merely stood there, staring at her. “Tell me.”
Taking the letter in her hand, she immediately recognized Alexander’s handwriting and her heart quickened at the sight. He’d written to her! Finally! She glanced back up at her cousin. “Yes, it’s from him. Are you going to tell my mother?”
He shook his head. “Don’t do anything foolish, Sara. I’ll be watching you, not just because it’s my duty as your older male cousin, but because I love and care about you.”
With that Phillip turned and left her room, closing the door behind him.
Sara stood motionless for a moment, barely breathing. She slowly sank back on to the divan, with Boots at her feet happily chewing on her glove. With a trembling hand, Sara broke the seal on the envelope and began to read the long-awaited letter from Alexander Drake.
Sara continued to stare at the page until the letters blurred together, making them illegible. She reread the letter a second and third time. Then she pressed the letter to her heart.
He was coming for her.
Alexander was coming to marry her! He still loved her and wanted to marry her! She smiled with joy at the letter in her hands, filled with relief that he had finally written to her and could be halfway across the ocean by now. He could arrive in London in a matter of days!
Oh, how wrong her parents were! Alexander just proved it. And you must believe that I would love you if you hadn’t a penny to your beautiful name. She knew he didn’t love her for her fortune. He even said so! She knew he loved her for herself only.
Or did she? Perhaps he hadn’t yet received her second letter. The one in which she’d written that her parents would disinherit her if they married, just as Uncle Jeffrey suggested she do. Alexander didn’t mention loving her even if she was disinherited and wanting to marry her anyway. There was a difference.
Boots hopped up beside her, climbing into her lap and sniffing quizzically at the letter in her hand.
More than a bit confused, Sara didn’t know what to do next.
13
Ebb Tide
Lady Mara Reeves stared at the two of them, her eyes following the dancing figures around the ballroom. They seemed quite out of place together, rather an odd pair. For some reason, they didn’t look right to her but she couldn’t pinpoint just what it was exactly. The gentleman was very handsome and quite striking in his manner and the woman seemed to pale in comparison to him. Her eyes lost track of them for a moment as other dancers moved in front. The dance floor was filled with dozens of couples swirling in time to the orchestra’s music.
She could see Sara dancing with a nice-looking young man who seemed to be trying to grow a set of whiskers. There was her cousin Simon with a lovely little brunette as his partner. Mara’s parents were at the other end of the room in conversation with another couple she was not familiar with. Yes, Lord and Lady Cabot’s ball was in full swing.
But there was something about that man that riveted her attention. Had she met him before? She didn’t think so, but he seemed vaguely familiar. Something about him intrigued her.
“Why aren’t you dancing, Mara?”
Startled from her thoughts, she turned to her cousin Phillip Sinclair. He stood beside her with a questioning expression on his handsome face. Phillip had been like an older brother to her for as long as she could remember, alternately protective and playful, and Mara loved him dearly.
Giving him an arch look, she said, “I could ask the same of you.”
“Touché,” he admitted, handing her a glass. “But I’ll have you know, I was dancing earlier, but I’m taking a bit of a break now. Here. Have some punch. It’s quite good.”
“Thank you.” Keeping her eyes on the dancing couple, she took the glass from him. “And I’ll have you know, I’m taking a little rest as well.” She smiled at him before taking a sip of the fruity punch.
Mara wasn’t overly fond of dancing and had deliberately left her dance card unfilled. She’d only attended the Cabots’ ball because of two reasons: One, she promised Sara she would spend the Season attending parties with her, and two, her parents were here this evening as well and so she arrived with them. Essentially, there was no avoiding this night out. Consequently, she’d spent most of the evening wandering around and people watching. She found it fascinating and it was one of her favorite things to do. Ever since she was a little girl, Mara preferred remaining quiet and observing what was going on around her.
“Phillip, who is that tall red-haired lady dancing with Lord Bridgeton just now?” Mara asked.
“I believe that’s Lady Constance Fuller. Why do you ask?”
“I’m curious, I suppose. I’ve not met her before,” Mara noted. Lady Constance Fuller had a certain manner about her. She was very interested in Lord Bridgeton; that was quite obvious. She leaned in far too close and seemed to cling to him like a vine. While Lord Bridgeton, on the other hand, was clearly disinterested; his back was stiff and his smile did not meet his eyes.
“Mara . . . May I ask you something?”
Surprised by Phillip’s serious tone, she turned to stare at him. “Of course.”
“Has Sara talked to you about her gentleman in New York?”
Mara paused, unsure how to respond. She had promised Sara her utmost discretion in regard to her forbidden romance, as Mara had taken to calling it. Yesterday afternoon Sara had rushed over to her house with the letter she’d just received from Alexander Drake. First they’d celebrated that he was finally coming for her, and then the two of them had pored over every word he’d written, in an attempt to discern any possible meaning. Did he know about the disinheritance or not? They’d never drawn a definitive conclusion.
Mara gazed at Phillip now. Genuine concern was reflected in his eyes. “Yes, of course, she’s told me about him,” she said. “And about how you tormented her with the letter yesterday.”
“I almost didn’t give it to her. I’ve had nothing but second thoughts since I did. Perhaps I should have let Aunt Juliette know about the letter after all. I just worry about her, Mara.”
“There’s no need to worry.”
“No?” Apprehension was etched in his face.
Mara wrestled with her conscience for a moment. Sara’s fate was on the line. Sara, whom she loved with all her heart. And Phillip, who loved Sara too. They all wanted the best for her, including Sara’s parents. She believed that Sara did truly love her American and that he loved her. It was all terribly romantic.
“No. There’s nothing to worry about, Phillip. Everything is fine.”
Phillip sighed, his brows relaxing somewhat. “I am aware that she tells you everything and I also know that you care about what happens to her. Will you please let me know if you think something is going to happen? Will you do that for me? If you have the slightest feeling that something is not right?”
“Do you mean if she decides to run off with him or something to that effect?”
He gave her a brief nod.
“I promise that I shall let you know if I learn of anything that would put Sara in danger,” Mara said. And she meant it.
Phillip paused for a moment. “Did she mention anything to you about what happened with Lord Bridgeton?”
“Lord Bridgeton?” Mara was confused. “Why
should Sara mention him?”
“I’m not sure exactly,” Phillip said. “They were both alone in the library together the other evening during the storm and it felt like I had walked in during a private moment. I had the feeling that something . . . romantic happened between them, but I suppose I was wrong. I asked both of them and they denied that anything went on there. If anything like that had happened, Sara surely would have told you.”
Astounded, Mara stared at Phillip. This was a surprise. “Something romantic? Between Sara and Lord Bridgeton?”
This thought hadn’t occurred to her before, but then Mara recalled the two of them talking at great length in the bookshop that afternoon. Now that she considered it a little more, they had seemed to hover near each other quite a bit the night Lord Bridgeton and his sisters joined them for supper at Devon House. This was a thought-provoking new development. Sara and the handsome and eligible Lord Bridgeton?
Mara suddenly grew dizzy.
It was happening again.
She was having one of her premonitions. She hadn’t had one in quite a while. Since she was a very young girl, she would get a peculiar feeling that foretold her something about the future. Some called it intuition or signs or instinct.
Whatever it was called, Mara sensed it right now. The dizziness and the strange tingling sensations that were the precursors to the misty images she would see in her mind had begun and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Her heart raced and her jaw clenched. Every nerve in her body lit up. Pressing her fingers to her temple, Mara closed her eyes and held her breath. Images began to form in her mind.
Her family. Lots of people in a cathedral. Sara wearing a wedding gown. Flowers and her little cousins with garlands in their blond hair. Lord Bridgeton smiling with happiness. Feelings of joy and love. A celebration.
At least this was a happy presentiment and not a sad one. She liked thinking of Sara and Lord Bridgeton together. They suited each other.
“Mara, are you feeling all right?” Phillip asked, placing his hand on her arm and looking at her with alarm.
“Yes, I’m just fine,” she murmured, her eyes fluttering open. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she attempted a smile. Her premonitions were never wrong, even if at times they were hazy. But Mara rarely shared her premonitions with anyone. She feared everyone would think she was a more than a little daft.
“You didn’t look fine to me,” Phillip said, holding on to her and observing her carefully. “Your face had the oddest expression just then. I thought you were going to faint.”
Mara took a sip of her punch before saying, “It was just a little dizzy spell. I get them from time to time. Nothing to worry about.”
The dance ended and couples began milling about the ballroom, changing partners and readying for the next set. The couple she had been surreptitiously watching earlier disappeared into the crowd and a sense of disappointment crept over her. That handsome gentleman was gone.
“Who are you looking for?” Phillip asked, still looking at her curiously.
“No one.” Embarrassed, she didn’t wish to tell her cousin about the handsome man who caught her eye. Mara didn’t even know his name! But she’d spied him earlier and for some reason couldn’t keep her eyes off him. She was also too shy to ask anyone about him, especially Phillip. If he teased her about it, even in his affectionate way, she would die of mortification. No. She’d just keep this to herself. “Weren’t you dancing with Elizabeth Cabot earlier?”
“Why, yes, I was.” Phillip gave her a roguish grin. “Poor girl. She’s quite smitten with me. But then again, all the ladies are.”
Mara sighed and shook her head, grinning. Phillip was amusing, even if he was a bit full of himself at times.
Just then Lord Bridgeton joined them. “Good evening, Lady Mara. Waverly.”
“Good evening, Lord Bridgeton.” Mara glanced up at him. He really was quite a handsome man. Tall, masculine, and commanding.
Lord Bridgeton laughed at Phillip. “Hiding, are you?”
“Just taking a break,” Phillip retorted. “It’s only considerate to give the pretty ladies a rest once in a while, Bridgeton.”
After smiling at his little joke, Lord Bridgeton turned his attention to her. “The next set is about to begin. Would you care to dance with me, Lady Mara?”
Surprised by his offer, Mara accepted even though she was not inclined to dance. Across the room she saw Sara on the arm of yet another young gentleman. Her cousin certainly was enjoying herself this evening. Mara nodded and handed her cup of punch to Phillip before taking Lord Bridgeton’s arm. He guided her to the dance floor just as the music began. They began to waltz in time to the music. For such a tall man, he was surprisingly light on his feet.
“Thank you for dancing with me, Lady Mara,” he said, his warm brown eyes searching hers. “I was hoping to have a private word with you this evening.”
“With me?” Mara asked, taken off guard. Before she could think about what she was saying, she blurted out, “I would assume you would rather speak with my cousin Sara.”
He looked amused. “That is precisely who I wished to discuss with you, Lady Mara.”
“You wish to discuss Sara?” Now Mara was quite intrigued, especially in light of the little premonition she had and what Phillip had just told her. Had something romantic happened between the two them after all? And what on earth could Lord Bridgeton want to speak to her about?
“Yes, in confidence, if you don’t mind,” he said.
“Yes, of course,” she said, as the dance continued.
“I understand that the two of you are close and that she confides in you,” he began, “and I am aware that she has an interest in a certain gentleman from New York.”
Shocked, Mara’s mouth fell open for a moment. “Sara told you about him?”
“Yes, she did.”
This development really confounded her. Why on earth would Sara discuss Alexander Drake with Lord Bridgeton? The pair were closer than she realized! “I’m rather astonished that my cousin told you about him.”
“He is the reason her parents brought her to London, isn’t he? They wanted her away from him?”
“Yes,” Mara admitted reluctantly. If Sara was telling Lord Bridgeton such details . . . Well then, this was definitely the beginning of something between the two of them. “But what has any of this to do with you?”
“Nothing really.” Lord Bridgeton gave her a beguiling smile. He was a very charming man. “But I have grown fond of Miss Fleming and I just wondered what you know about this man . . . And is he good enough for her?”
Mara looked at him closely. He really did care for Sara. “I don’t know for certain, Lord Bridgeton, but it’s fairly obvious that her parents don’t think he is.”
“Yes, of course. But I am more interested in what your opinion of him is.”
“Judging from his letter, I’d say he seems utterly devoted to her.”
“She received a letter from him?” he asked. The note of panic in his voice touched Mara’s heart.
“Lord Bridgeton, have you feelings for my cousin?” she couldn’t help but inquire, even though she already knew the answer. She had seen it.
He laughed, but it sounded a bit hollow to her ears. “Of course I care about her, as I care about your entire family, who has been inordinately kind to me and my sisters. But if you are asking if I have any romantic intentions toward Miss Fleming, you would be mistaken, Lady Mara. I simply wish to rest in the assurance that she is being looked after properly and is not in a position to make any dangerous decisions regarding this gentleman.”
Mara smiled at him. He was quite jealous of Alexander Drake and she felt a bit of sympathy for him. “I promise you, Lord Bridgeton, that Sara is in no danger.”
As the dance came to an end, he guided her back to the alcove where she had been standing with Phillip earlier. “Thank you, Lady Mara. For this lovely dance and for your discretion in the matter we discussed.”
&n
bsp; Mara gazed up at him, intrigued by his interest in Sara. Her intuition told her that Christopher Townsend, the Earl of Bridgeton, was a genuinely good man who cared deeply about her cousin. “Your secret is safe with me.”
“I don’t have a secret,” he said, looking slightly uncomfortable.
“Don’t you, though?”
“Lady Mara, I am merely concerned for your cousin’s welfare. That is all.”
“Of course you are.” Mara gave him a knowing look. “Thank you for the dance. I quite enjoyed it, something I don’t usually do. May I ask a favor of you before you go?”
“Anything,” he replied. “I am in your debt.”
Mara gestured casually to the very handsome man standing near the entryway. The one she had been watching earlier. “Do you happen to know the name of that gentleman over there?”
A wry grin lit Lord Bridgeton’s face. “Why, Lady Mara . . .” His eyes followed to where she pointed. “I’m presuming you don’t mean the balding gentleman, but the tall one with the full head of hair?”
Mara couldn’t help but blush. She nodded.
“I believe that’s Foster Sheridan, the Earl of Sterling. I’m afraid I don’t know much more about him than that.” He smiled warmly.
“Thank you, Lord Bridgeton. Very much.” She whispered the name to herself, storing it away for later. Foster Sheridan, the Earl of Sterling. Mara liked the sound of it.
“Would you like me to find out about him for you?”
“What?” Startled, she glanced back at Lord Bridgeton. “Oh, no, thank you. That’s not necessary.”
“If you change your mind, just let me know.” He gave her a wink. “Again, Lady Mara, I thank you and wish you a good evening.”
“Good evening,” she murmured.
Mara watched him go, thinking what a wonderful gentleman he was. She truly liked him. It was a shame that Sara was still preoccupied with her American. But she believed wholeheartedly that Christopher Townsend had deep feelings for Sara, even if he didn’t quite realize it, and that Sara felt the same.
The Heiress He's Been Waiting For Page 14
