The Heiress He's Been Waiting For

by Kaitlin O'Riley

  Her words had no effect on the man. Drake stood as if poised for battle, his chest puffed out. So this was the infamous gentleman from New York, the man Sara was madly and foolishly in love with. He didn’t seem like all that much. Christopher had to admit the man was good-looking if one liked those golden-haired, boyish types. Although Drake was tall, he was no match for Christopher. There was not a doubt in his mind that he could take Drake if it came to blows. He almost wished it would. A part of him felt ready to smash the fellow’s pompous face in and relish doing so.

  “What are you doing here?” Sara confronted the three of them, her tone exasperated. To keep Boots from barking she scooped the puppy into her arms, attempting to soothe and quiet him. “There was no need for you to come bursting in like that. As you can see, I’m fine. There’s no cause for worry, you know. I can take care of myself.”

  “Oh, Sara, you mustn’t marry him!” Lady Mara blurted out.

  Sara’s face grew angry. “I can marry whomever I choose.” Boots squirmed so much in her arms that she set him down again.

  “You’re marrying me on Saturday.” Christopher’s implication was unmistakable, his eyes locked with hers. There was no way she was not marrying him. “Or have you forgotten that little detail, Miss Fleming?”

  “I haven’t forgotten, Lord Bridgeton,” she said in a brittle voice and he noted her use of his formal title with a tinge of bitterness. “But I never agreed to marry you. My parents made that arrangement with you. I was never asked or consulted. I merely was told I had to marry you.” She squared her delicate shoulders and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry if you were misled into believing there was to be a wedding Saturday, Lord Bridgeton, but I’m marrying Alexander tomorrow.”

  In spite of feeling relief at discovering that she hadn’t yet married Drake, something inside of Christopher snapped and anger flooded through him. How dared she spurn him like this? How could she still wish to wed this thief from New York who was only after her for her money? After what happened between the two of them last night in the drawing room? He’d made love to her just a few hours ago, for crying out loud! “You’d marry this man knowing that you may already be carrying my child?”

  The room grew suddenly quiet, as the meaning of Christopher’s words sank in. Sara stood motionless, her cheeks slowly turning scarlet, as she glared at him. He knew he shouldn’t have embarrassed her this way, but he couldn’t let her marry Drake. He loved Sara Fleming with all his heart and if there was the slightest chance she was carrying his child there was no way on earth he was going to allow her to marry another man.

  Finally breaking the tense silence, the blond woman let out a long, low whistle, as she sauntered over and stood beside Drake. Christopher realized this must be Lucy Camden, the woman posing as Alexander Drake’s sister. She was quite attractive in a somewhat coarse way.

  Lucy turned to confront them, an amused expression on her face. “Well, well, well. We seem to have a bit of a problem here, don’t we? It appears little Miss Fleming isn’t so perfect after all . . .”

  24

  Run Aground

  Sara was mortified. Absolutely mortified.

  She could barely look at Mara and Phillip, let alone Alexander. Oh, what Alexander must think of her! Would he even want to marry her now, suspecting that she was carrying Lord Bridgeton’s child? How dared Christopher mention what happened between them! Last night wasn’t anyone’s business but theirs. And to throw it in her face like that! As if it didn’t mean anything. Stung by his cruel callousness, Sara blinked back tears, replacing them with outrage. She would not cry . . .

  What was Christopher thinking anyway? Coming here and bursting in on her this way! Who did he think he was? Why, she’d only just arrived at the hotel herself not a half hour ago. She and Alexander were just getting reacquainted and making plans to travel to Gretna Green first thing tomorrow.

  As soon as she’d snuck out of Devon House that morning, she’d realized that it was far too early to show up at Drake’s hotel. At the ball last night, Alexander had told her to come to the hotel this afternoon and she agreed. As much as she longed to be with him, a lady could not just arrive at a hotel at the break of dawn and ask for a gentleman’s room! Sara had her standards, in spite of everything. After walking aimlessly for a few blocks and not knowing where else to go, she suddenly recalled that she had a key to the Hamilton Sisters’ Book Shoppe in her reticule.

  With great pride Aunt Colette had presented the key to her just last week, as a gift, welcoming Sara into the family business. So this morning Sara had unlocked the door and let herself into the empty shop, since it was far too early to be open. Sara crept upstairs to Aunt Paulette’s private office, which had a wonderfully soft sofa. Exhausted from the events of the masked ball and not having slept all night, she lay down among the velvety cushions with a blanket and little Boots snuggled beside her, and quickly fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

  Sara awoke a little after noon, feeling, if not better for having slept for almost six hours, then definitely more awake. Everything that had happened last night with Christopher now seemed like a faraway dream. Could she simply brush it away like the wispy clouds of a reverie? Could she just erase it from her memory and pretend it never happened? Well, she would have to do so to marry Alexander.

  Sara fed Boots some small scraps of chicken she’d packed in her bag for him, but she didn’t eat anything herself. She was far too nervous, wondering if her family had discovered she was gone yet and imagining how it would feel when she saw Alexander Drake again. Using the small stove and kettle in the office, she made herself some tea and hoped it would calm her somewhat. After freshening herself up, she quietly let herself out of the store, ignoring the raised eyebrows of the shop assistants who were now busy running the bookshop.

  When she arrived at the Savoy Hotel, she bore the disapproving scowl of the hotel manager, who pursed his lips in distaste, but told her Alexander’s room number even though he clearly didn’t believe he should tell her. Her stomach fluttered during her ride in the electric lift knowing her life together with Alexander Drake would begin in a matter of moments.

  He and his sister Lucy were warm and welcoming to her. Alexander had placed a sweet kiss on her cheek and took her hand, telling her he’d never been so happy to see anyone in his life. While Lucille played with Boots, Sara and Alexander had sat down together to talk. He’d been sweet and romantic to her, saying everything she needed to hear.

  “I’ve dreamed of this moment, my dearest Sara, when you would be with me again.” His blue eyes sparkled and he looked at her longingly. “I won’t rest easily until we’re safely married, then no one can ever take you from me again.”

  “Oh, I’ve missed you so, Alexander,” she murmured, suddenly feeling shy and awkward with him.

  “And I’ve missed you, my darling. Seeing you at the ball last night was like seeing a vision. I’d almost forgotten how beautiful you are,” he whispered low.

  She squeezed his hands. “Oh, Alexander.”

  “Does anyone know where you are?” he asked.

  She shook her head. She had been very careful about that. “No. I didn’t tell anyone where you were staying and no one saw me leave the house.”

  He seemed to visibly relax at that bit of news. “Then we shall hire a carriage and leave for Gretna Green first thing in the morning. I’ll feel safer once we’re legally wed. Then no one can ever take you away from me, my lovely. Once we’re married, we’ll confront your parents and it will be too late for them to do anything about it.” Alexander smiled slowly. “You can stay here with me tonight.”

  Well, she really didn’t have much of a choice now, did she? Sara had left the security of her home and family and hadn’t thought further ahead than that. Her eyes drifted to the large four-poster bed draped with velvet curtains. Feeling slightly embarrassed at the thought of spending the night here with Alexander, she suggested, “Perhaps it might be best if I stay with your sister in her
room? Until we’re married . . .”

  “Forgive me for being impatient, my love. I didn’t mean to suggest that . . . But then we can discuss it later.” He eyed her carefully, but smiled.

  “If Sara likes, she can stay in my room and I can stay in here with you, Alexander,” Lucy called.

  Unaware that his sister had been listening to their conversation, Sara glanced over to see Lucy seated on the floor, playing tug of war with Boots. There was something about the woman that left Sara feeling uneasy. For all of Lucy’s show of friendly helpfulness and sisterly support of their situation, there was an air of disdain about her, or a sense of superiority, as if she knew something that Sara didn’t. The uneasiness just increased after her remark about sharing a room with her brother. Sara also could not shake the feeling that she had met the woman before, but where and when she could not recall.

  “We’ll discuss the sleeping arrangements later, Lucy dear,” Alexander said with a bit of an edge to his voice. He took Sara’s hand in his, and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to her fingers. “Now, Sara darling, I need to ask you something rather unpleasant. Have you any money with you?”

  “Money?” she asked, stunned by the sudden change of topic, and a slight shiver ran down her spine. Was this what her parents predicted? Her heart dropped to her toes.

  “Money. Such a distasteful subject, isn’t it?” He flashed her his most winning smile. “I’m sorry to bring it up, you see, but this hotel is very expensive and I can’t draw on my funds in New York until next week. But never you mind. Don’t worry your pretty little head about anything as sordid as money, my darling. As your husband, I will see that you are always well taken care of.”

  A very small alarm bell began to ring in the back of Sara’s mind and she recalled her conversation with Uncle Jeffrey. “Alexander,” she began slowly. He still held her hands. “We’ve never discussed my money before . . .”

  “Yes, of course I realize that. But certainly you must be aware that I don’t possess nearly the amount of money that your family does. No one does! But none of that matters in the least to me, darling. You know I would love you just the same if you hadn’t a penny to your name.” He gave her hands a little squeeze.

  “And I would love you the same if you hadn’t any money,” she said. Now was the time to say it. She paused, feeling a little nervous. “But I should let you know that my parents are still quite against our marrying each other. They made it very clear that they would disinherit me if we wed, leaving me without a cent to my name.”

  “Your parents can’t do that!” Lucy cried in outrage.

  Sara gave the girl a pointed look, wishing her to stay out of her conversation with Alexander. This had nothing to do with Lucy.

  “Surely they are just threatening you, Sara. They love you too much to do something so dreadful to you,” he said, a slight hint of worry in his eyes.

  “They are not just threatening me. My father means it. I won’t get a cent. But that’s all right with you, isn’t it, Alexander?” she questioned him, hoping against hope that he really meant that he would love her even if she hadn’t a fortune. “You make more than enough to support us, don’t you?”

  Her words were just registering on his face when there was a loud banging on the hotel room door. Lucy hurried to answer it, and that’s when Lord Bridgeton burst into the room with Phillip and Mara. Just as Sara was about to learn what Alexander was going to say about her inheritance, their moment was ruined!

  Ruined by Christopher Townsend and his imperious demands that she marry him and shaming her in front of everyone. Lucy’s snide comments about her innocence added insult to injury. Now they all stood in the hotel room in complete silence, the implications of Christopher’s words quite clear.

  Finally Alexander questioned her in an icy voice, “Sara, is what this man says about you true?”

  With great reluctance, Sara nodded, meeting Alexander’s gaze with unflinching honesty.

  A confused expression on his face, Alexander murmured, “In spite of your inconstant behavior, I shall forgive you, Sara. I still want to marry you more than anything in the world.”

  Sara stared at him. Alexander still wanted her to be his wife even though she had been unfaithful to him, and he believed that her parents would disinherit her.

  “Of course he still wants to marry you, Sara. He’s a lowly thief and a fortune hunter and you’re the greatest prize he could ever hope to steal,” Christopher declared.

  Instinctively Sara defended her future husband. “He is not a fortune hunter!” Still, something about the entire situation was not quite right. She couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Just a feeling that something was wrong.

  “How dare you say such things about my brother!” Lucy exclaimed heatedly.

  “And this woman is most definitely not his sister,” Christopher stated emphatically. “Are you, Miss Camden?”

  Sara’s heart skipped a beat and she whipped around to stare at Lucy. Lucy Camden. There was something about that name . . . Miss Camden. Somewhere in the back of her mind a memory was awakening. Where had she heard it before? If she was not Alexander’s sister, then who was this very beautiful woman? What was she to Alexander and why was she here in London with him? A sick feeling of dread as thick as syrup seeped through her veins as unthinkable and indecent images found their way into her mind.

  Lucy placed her hands on her hips in righteous indignation, her pretty face full of scorn. “I am Lucille Drake, Alexander’s sister!”

  Mara, who had been standing there quietly holding Boots in her arms, finally spoke up. In her soft Irish accent she said, “This woman is definitely not his sister, Sara. Your father hired an investigator to look into his background and he followed them here to London. I know you don’t wish to hear this, but it’s the truth. The man is a thief and he is only after your fortune.” Mara gestured toward Alexander. “Why don’t we have Mr. Drake explain who this woman is to him?”

  “It’s not true!” The desperate words rushed from Sara’s lips, even though the inevitability of their truth belied their meaning. This had all turned into a terrible, terrible nightmare.

  Alexander and Lucy remained silent, as if assessing the situation.

  “It is true, Sara,” Phillip said, not unkindly and looking at her most earnestly. “If it weren’t true, I would wish you well in marrying this man, if it was what you wanted. I only want you to be happy. But my sweet American little cousin, Drake is lying to you.”

  If what her cousins were telling her were true, the money was one thing. Sara could almost accept that. It was a lot of money. She wasn’t naïve enough to expect a man to not want that much money. But this other woman . . . that was something else entirely. If Alexander came to London to marry her, with this Lucy Camden or Lucille Drake or whoever she was, pretending to be his sister but in reality she was actually his . . . his mistress! Well, that was more than Sara could bear.

  That meant that Alexander Drake really did not love her after all.

  There were definitely lies involved. And Sara had no choice but to believe Alexander was the one lying. Her parents would never make this up. Phillip and Mara wouldn’t lie to her about something like this. Christopher wouldn’t either.

  Trembling, Sara turned again to look at Alexander’s face. The boyish, handsome face she had loved for so many months. “Who is she?” she whispered, barely able to breathe.

  “It’s not what you think, Sara,” Alexander began with another of his charming smiles. “Please let me explain to you, my darling. Everything has been exaggerated and blown out of proportion. I’m not a thief! The very idea is ridiculous! I never took anyone’s jewels. It was all an innocent misunderstanding. I’m a lawyer, Sara! You know that. Your parents know that. I couldn’t do anything against the law! And admittedly, no, Lucy is not my sister. Not really. But our families were very close growing up and she has been like a sister to me. She only wants my happiness, our happiness, and she agreed to come to London
with me, because she understands just how much I want to marry you. That’s all.” He paused, letting his words sink in.

  Then Alexander continued smoothly. “As for the fortune hunter business, I’ve already told you that I grew up poor, on a farm in New Jersey. Unlike you, I didn’t come from money. But just like your own father, I’ve worked very hard to get where I am, Sara. I put myself through college and obtained my law degree. Someday I plan to earn a lot of money to support you, but at the moment, I don’t have much. Is that a crime? No. Should I have brought that fact to your attention sooner? Yes, but your parents whisked you away before I could properly state my case. Was I embarrassed by my financial situation compared to yours? Absolutely. It’s not an easy thing for a man to admit. Will your money, your millions, be much appreciated and put to good use until I can support us in style? Yes, of course. If that makes me a fortune hunter, then so be it.”

  Again Alexander smiled at her, that familiar golden smile that made her heart melt the day she had fallen in love with him that very first afternoon in Central Park. He’d gallantly rescued her and made her heart sing. Oh, how she longed to believe him! His words seemed to make sense. Almost rang true. She could quite easily slip under his spell again . . . and believe that everyone else was wrong about him. Her parents. The investigator. Her cousins. Christopher.

  But she suddenly saw Lucy’s smug expression, and recalled her odd comment about sharing the room with Alexander tonight. She eyed the woman again. Carefully.

  Lucy stood there with that scornful, slightly mocking look, almost as if she were daring Sara to believe that she was Alexander’s sister. Nothing about her conveyed the air of a supporting and loving sister. No, there was a mixture of possessiveness and jealousy in those brittle blue eyes. A woman’s instinct, an intuition, a deep knowing told her that Lucy Camden was, indeed, Alexander’s mistress and had been all along.