by Anne Herries
‘I haven’t forgotten what Rupert said to me at dinner that night.’ Francesca smiled and reached for her hand. ‘I’m so glad you’re here, Sarah. I should have been terrified if I’d been alone.’
‘Everyone will love you, as I do, dearest.’
Francesca nodded and linked arms with her. ‘I feel much better now.’
‘Good. Remember this is an experience to enjoy, not one to dread. Just because these people have come down from London, it doesn’t mean they will be different from your neighbours. I am sure they will all be delighted to meet you.’
The shadows had lifted from Francesca’s face. She looked beautiful and happy, and Sarah’s own mood lightened. For the next few days she would forget her problems and do her best to see that all the guests were content.
‘I am not sure I understand your position here.’ Lady Foxton looked down her long nose at Sarah. ‘You are Francesca’s companion—but you are also the daughter of a wealthy mill owner. Is that correct?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ Sarah’s head went up slightly as she met the look of disapproval in the older woman’s eyes. Lady Foxton had a lovely daughter of a similar age to Francesca and the two had become friends immediately. The girl was open and charming, radiating friendliness to everyone she met, but her mother was another matter. ‘I came here to be with Francesca—and I have helped her with her studies.’
‘What are you—a governess or a companion?’
‘Sarah is a friend,’ Rupert said, coming up to them. ‘Are you quite comfortable there, Lady Foxton? Would you permit me to show you the long gallery before dinner?’
‘How delightful,’ the lady cooed, bestowing a warm smile on him. She got up as he offered his arm and walked away without another glance in Sarah’s direction.
Sarah was unruffled by the lady’s interrogation. It was not the first time she’d come up against barely concealed hostility when mixing in society. Lady Foxton was one of the haughtiest she’d met, but others had been even ruder, if not to her face then behind her back. She was well aware that while the gentlemen seemed ready to accept her for what she was and even to admire her, some ladies found her company not to their taste. As a young girl staying at the home of one of her friends from school, Sarah had come up against prejudice and she no longer allowed it to disturb her. She had friends enough amongst the lower echelons of society and the daughters of rich merchants. To imagine she would ever be universally welcome in the drawing rooms of London would be to deceive herself—and Sarah was not her father’s daughter for nothing.
‘I say, was that old trout giving you the third degree?’ Sir Freddie Holloway came up to her. A man of about Rupert’s age, he was not exactly handsome, but he had a nice smile and Sarah liked him. ‘Take no notice of her, Miss Hardcastle—she’s buried three husbands and they say they were all glad to go.’
‘Oh, no,’ Sarah said and laughed. ‘You really must not, you know. I don’t mind at all. I’m not Lady Foxton’s equal and I would not presume to think it.’
‘A damn sight better, if you ask me, m’dear,’ he said. He sipped his wine. ‘One thing about Merrivale, he keeps a good cellar. Pity he couldn’t be here, but I suppose the place has too many memories.’
‘Yes, I dare say. Francesca and John have missed his company, but it is better now that they have Lord Myers.’
‘Myers is a good fellow. Bit of a dasher with the ladies, don’t you know. He manages to find the sweetest little fillies … but I ought not to say. Reformed character, he tells me.’
‘I dare say Lord Myers is no different from most gentlemen,’ Sarah said and smiled, though her heart caught with pain.
‘Has more luck than most,’ Freddie said. ‘I remember when we were both after the same charmer—an opera dancer, she was. Thought I was in with a chance, but as soon as he looked her way …’ He rolled his eyes and laughed. ‘Wouldn’t say this to Francesca, of course, but you’re a lady of sense. She’s a beauty, ain’t she?’ He sighed and looked across the room at the two young girls laughing together. ‘I’d make a stab at fixing my interest with her—but I need an heiress. Pockets to let, don’t you know. Suppose you wouldn’t be interested in taking pity on me, Miss Hardcastle?’
‘I believe you are teasing, Sir Freddie.’
Sarah wondered if Rupert had invited him for her benefit. He was a personable man and she liked him. She thought they might become friends in time—but would she be able to trust him with the management of her empire? He seemed the perfect fop, a man of fashion without a serious thought in his head—but of course she did not know him well enough to judge.
‘Of course, m’dear. What else is there for a man to do? Life is boring enough as it is—not when in delightful company, of course.’
‘Do you have no ambition, sir?’ Sarah looked at him in amusement. He was pleasant company, but such an attitude would drive her mad in a week. She was accustomed to hard work and would expect it of the man she married.
‘Ambition?’ He raised his brows in mock horror. ‘Terrible word that, Miss Hardcastle. I had it once, I think, but somehow it just drifted away like mist on a summer morn. Should I take up poetry, do you think? I dare say it would serve me as well as that Byron fellow.’
‘I imagine Lord Byron works hard at his poems. They are very clever, you know.’
‘Another avenue closed.’ Sir Freddie laughed. ‘Yes, dear lady. I know I am incorrigible. Excuse me, I must talk to Morrison. He has a filly I’m interested in—of the equine variety.’ He winked at her and strolled off.
Sarah’s gaze passed over the assembled company. Mr Norris was only a year or two older than Francesca and seemed pleasant. Lord Phillips was a little older than Rupert and of a serious disposition; Captain Francis was a dashing fellow and talked endlessly of the regiment. Mr Stevens and Sir Andrew were both in their early twenties and looked handsome, pleasant young men—the kind that might become suitors for Francesca. The other two ladies were Mrs Carter and her daughter Helena. It was Helena who came to Sarah and took a seat beside her next.
‘Lord Myers told me that he was thinking of giving a small dance while we’re here—nothing grand, just an impromptu affair. He said he was going to send out invitations to his neighbours. I prefer the balls in London, because country affairs can be so boring, do you not think so? There are never enough personable men to go round.’
Sarah hesitated. She knew exactly what the young girl meant, for quite often at home the assemblies were very thin of presentable gentlemen, most being older and married or the kind that trod on your feet and exuded sweaty odours—and there were usually more unmarried girls than eligible gentlemen.
‘We do have some presentable neighbours,’ Sarah said with a twinkle in her eye. ‘Besides, some of our guests are rather attractive, Miss Carter.’
‘Yes, I know—but Mama says I must look higher than a mere knight and she would not consider a plain Mr anything, even if he is rich.’ She sighed deeply. ‘This looking for a husband is so frustrating, is it not? I suppose you do not bother over such things? You can afford to be independent and not worry about catching a husband.’
‘No, I do not bother over such trifles,’ Sarah agreed, managing not to laugh at the girl’s clumsiness in describing her as an old maid and past such things—which perhaps she was. Even Sir Freddie had treated her as he might a favourite aunt or an older lady with whom it was safe to flirt. ‘I am much too old to worry about marriage.’
‘Oh …’ Helena flushed. ‘I did not mean it to sound like that—but I heard Mama say you were rich and could buy yourself a husband if you chose.’ Her colour deepened, as if she realised she had plunged deeper into the morass.
‘Please do not worry,’ Sarah said kindly. ‘I am not in the least offended.’
‘I did not intend—’
‘Sir Roger Grey and Mr James Monks… .’
‘Oh …’ Helena flushed as the names were announced. ‘I did not know that Sir Roger was staying in the country.’
/> The painful expression in her eyes told Sarah that the gentleman had made an impression on her, though she could not be sure whether it was favourable or otherwise.
‘Helena, come here, my dear,’ Mrs Carter called and the girl rose obediently and went to her mama.
Sarah saw that Rupert had returned with Lady Foxton. Immediately, he made every other man in the room look less impressive. There was something so very masculine about him … so powerful. His long legs looked strong and muscular in his tight-fitting breeches, his shoulders broad without being massive, and his countenance noble—like a beautiful marble statue from ancient Rome, only vital and very much alive.
‘Sarah.’ Sir Roger bowed his head to her. ‘We did not realise you had guests staying. I trust we do not intrude?’
‘How could you, sir? I am sure Lord Myers must welcome all his uncle’s neighbours.’
‘May I sit beside you for a moment?’ He fluffed out his coat-tails and sat without waiting for her answer. ‘You look very well, Sarah. That gown becomes you.’
Sarah knew that he’d been puzzled by the plain gown she’d worn when he called at the house for the first time since her arrival. She was now wearing one of her own.
‘Thank you, sir. You are most kind,’ Sarah said. ‘I believe that was the gong for nuncheon. I am sure you will be welcome to stay.’
‘Oh, no, we shall not intrude further,’ Sir Roger said. ‘I am returning home in a few days—when may I call on you? I should like to speak with you in private.’
‘I fail to see what you can have to say to me, sir. I have told you before that you are wasting your time.’
‘A matter has been drawn to my attention. I think you would be wise to hear what I have to say—unless you wish to be ostracised by all your new friends?’ The look in his eyes was so menacing!
Sarah went cold all over. ‘What on earth can you mean?’
‘I see you are listening now. A pity this is neither the time nor the place. I shall call in the morning at about ten. Please be prepared to see me. I should be loath to threaten you, Sarah.’
With that he got up and walked away, leaving her to stare after him in dismay. As she joined the general exodus to the dining room, Sarah’s thoughts were in a whirl. Whatever could he have meant? Surely he was not referring to her masquerade as a governess. While that might make some of the guests frown, it was hardly likely to ruin her.
He was bluffing. She had done nothing of which she ought to be ashamed and she would not allow him to intimidate her.
‘Is something wrong?’ Rupert asked when he found her alone in the small parlour later that day. ‘Why are you not with the others?’
‘I wanted a moment to be quiet. I shall join them for tea.’
‘Did Lady Foxton upset you? Her bark is worse than her bite, Sarah. She will become accustomed to you in time.’
‘Will she?’ Sarah frowned. ‘I wasn’t upset by what she said. I’ve met ladies of her kind before and they do not bother me particularly.’
‘Something has distressed you—was it Sir Roger?’
‘It isn’t important. Shall we join the others for tea?’
‘He has disturbed you. Please tell me. If he has made himself unpleasant I’ll thrash him for you.’
‘No, please do not. He did make a threat, but I shall not regard it.’
‘What kind of a threat?
‘He said that a matter had come to his attention—one that, if revealed, would mean that my new friends, as he called them, would no longer wish to know me.’
‘That is nonsense! You haven’t done anything improper or illegal, have you?’
She lifted her head. ‘You shouldn’t need to ask. I told you the truth about myself. You must know I did.’
‘Yes …’ He nodded. ‘He must have something up his sleeve. Leave him to me, Sarah. I shall sort the rogue out for you.’
‘No, I will deal with it. I have done nothing wrong so he can have no reason for his blackmail.’
‘You think he hopes to blackmail you into accepting his offer?’
‘He might. I have made it clear I shall not accept him.’ She shook her head. ‘Please do not trouble yourself, Rupert. He can do nothing to harm me.’
‘He’s a sly rogue,’ Rupert replied and looked thoughtful. ‘Forget him for now, Sarah. Whatever he has to say to you, we’ll sort him between us.’
‘Yes, of course,’ she agreed, but a cold shiver ran down her spine.
What could Sir Roger know that might make her an outcast from society?
Sarah spent a restless night, tossing on her pillows. She had painted a smile on her face the previous evening, but felt as if a shadow hung over her. The look in Sir Roger’s eyes had been menacing and triumphant. Clearly, he believed he had found a way to coerce her into doing what he wanted—what could it be?
Surely there was nothing in her past that he could learn to her disadvantage? She had tried to dismiss her fears as nonsense, as Rupert clearly felt them to be. Her father was the owner of several mills and her mother had been the daughter of a clergyman. Sarah Richards was the granddaughter of a baronet, of good birth if no fortune. Sarah had been named for her and she remembered her mother as a quiet gentle lady who had always been respectable and had taught her daughter to be the same.
How could Sir Roger know something that would make the people gathered in this house turn against her?
Of course he could not. It was an empty threat intended to force her into accepting his offer. He would quite possibly invent a lie, but she must simply deny it and hope that others believed her—particularly Rupert.
With that in mind, she turned over and finally fell into a restless sleep in which she dreamed that she was on an island in the mist and all alone.
Sarah dressed in a plain but stylish grey gown. She went downstairs to the kitchen and told Mrs Brancaster that Sir Roger might call that morning.
‘I shall be in the back parlour if he does,’ she said. ‘I believe he wants to speak with me in private on some matter—if you will kindly have him shown there.’
‘Yes, of course.’ The housekeeper looked at her oddly, but made no comment as to the wisdom of her decision.
Standing looking out at the garden, Sarah heard the footsteps and turned as someone entered. Sir Roger had dressed smartly, obviously intending to impress.
‘Ah, Sarah,’ he said and gave her the false smile she disliked so much. ‘I am delighted you granted me this interview. You know, of course, that I wish to renew my offer of marriage. You are the woman I adore and it would make me the happiest of men if you were to become my wife.’
‘Forgive me, sir. I have told you before that I shall never marry you.’ Sarah looked at him coldly. ‘If that is all you have to say, I shall leave you.’
‘You would be well advised to stay,’ he said and moved to block her path. ‘I had hoped you might be sensible—but as you force me to tell you, I have no choice… .’ He paused for effect as Sarah dug her nails into her palms. Why did he look so pleased with himself?
‘Nothing you can say will harm me. I have good friends …’
‘Lord Myers, I presume?’ Sir Roger sneered. ‘How long do you imagine he will harbour you in his house when he discovers you are an impostor?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You believe yourself to be the daughter of Sarah Richards and Hardcastle, do you not?’
‘Yes, I am.’ Sarah’s mouth was suddenly dry, her heart racing. ‘Please be plain, sir. I do not know what you mean.’
‘Have you really no idea, Sarah? Did you never wonder why you were the only child of the marriage?’ He looked horribly confident and sure as he added, ‘Your mother could not give Hardcastle children. He went to a prostitute and lay with her, kept her in seclusion and gave her money to stay away from other men. When she gave birth to you, he took you home with him and his wife accepted you as her own. You have no claim to gentle blood at all—you are, in fact, the daughter of a woman of low bi
rth who made her living on her back.’
Sarah gasped and stepped back, feeling as if he had thrown cold water over her. ‘No, it is not true,’ she gasped. ‘You are lying. Father would have told me … my mother loved me …’
‘Your father never told anyone, but someone knew his secret. Your true mother came looking for you before she died. You might wish to know that she died of the whore’s disease and your father refused to let her see you even though he knew she was dying.’
‘No …’ Sarah put her hands to her face. ‘You are a wicked, evil man to say such things. My father would not have been so cruel.’
‘If you do not believe me, ask your uncle. He told me the truth—which is why he has agreed that you should marry me without delay. Who else would want you now?’
‘You are lying. This is just a wicked tale to discredit me and force me to sell my father’s business. I suppose that offer came from you?’
‘I would buy the mills if I could, but I want you to marry me, Sarah.’
‘Even though you say my mother was a whore?’ Sarah’s eyes flashed with temper.
‘I don’t care whose daughter you are. I am willing to overlook your birth. You have the money and that’s all I’m interested in. If you want to know, I shall be ruined if you don’t marry me. My creditors have hung on because they thought I had prospects, but if they learn you have other ideas …’
‘Your money problems are not my concern,’ Sarah said coldly. ‘This is the final time I shall tell you. If you persist, I shall speak to Lord Myers. Please leave and do not return. I have no wish to speak to you ever again.’
Sir Roger glared at her, disbelief in his eyes. He had been so certain she would crumble when he revealed her terrible secret.
‘You’ll pay for this, Miss High and Mighty Hardcastle,’ he said and lurched towards her in a fury. ‘I shall give you twenty-four hours to reconsider and then I’ll start spreading the tale. If you imagine your friends will wish to know you, then you are mistaken. Think about it carefully before you ruin yourself for good—and don’t think your fine friends will save you. If they should manage to avert a scandal, I’ll kill you. One way or the other I’ll have my revenge on you.’
