by Anne Herries
Sarah noticed that there was usually a gardener hanging about when they spent time walking amongst the roses and various flowerbeds. The weather kept fine obligingly and they played croquet on the lawns, drank tea in the shade of some fine trees and walked, enjoying each other’s conversation. Each day followed the last in a haze of perfect contentment and Sarah’s feeling of alarm began to fade. Rupert was always pleasant to her, always considerate, and sometimes the look in his eyes sent her pulses haywire, but he had said nothing further to make her think that he was marrying her for any other reason than convenience.
She was determined that he should not guess she felt more than he did and her smiles for him were no more intimate than for anyone else. If he wished for a comfortable wife, it was what she would be, undemanding and good-tempered.
She’d told Rupert of her letter and her belief that it was a ruse to trap her into leaving the safety of his protection.
‘You must remain here,’ he had told her sternly. ‘Your uncle will write to you if it is necessary—though if you are anxious I could escort you.’
Sarah had shaken her head. ‘I do not think my uncle would have sent such a letter. I am content to wait until we hear from him.’
She was returning with her friends from one of their outings some days later when a coach drew up at the front of the house. As she watched, the door opened and a man got out. Surprise and pleasure made her start forwards with a glad cry.
‘Uncle William! What are you doing here?’
He turned to look at her with a frown. ‘I wanted to make sure these people were treating you properly. Were you mad to run off like that, Sarah? What in heaven’s name made you change places with a governess?’
‘It was just a whim, Uncle. I am so glad to see you are not at death’s door.’
‘I dare say that was that rogue who wheedled your mother’s story out of me,’ her uncle said. ‘I’m sorry for telling him, girl. He has a smooth tongue and I trusted him, thought he cared for you. From what Lord Myers told me in his letter, Sir Roger is a sly snake and not to be trusted.’
‘Rupert wrote to you?’ Sarah glanced at Rupert, for he’d said nothing to her. He was laughing with Sir Freddie and did not notice her glance.
‘It’s the reason I came,’ her uncle replied. He looked about him, seeing the little group of curious onlookers. ‘Sorry to turn up out of the blue, but I wanted to tell you the whole truth. I gather that serpent twisted the story into something ugly.’
‘Wasn’t it?’
‘Far from it. Can we talk in private?’
‘I must introduce you to the others, then we’ll go to the back parlour. I am very pleased you have come, Uncle, though a letter would have been sufficient.’
‘I thought I should apologise in person. It may be because of me that all this unpleasantness has happened.’
Sarah took his arm and led him towards her friends. She watched as he shook hands with Rupert, greeting him as a friend, and then introduced him to her friends.
‘You must come in, Uncle. We are about to have tea.’
‘This is a bit above my touch, girl. I was never one for mixing in society, you know—at least, not on this level.’
‘Everyone is very friendly. I am sure the marquess will say you must stay for a day or two.’
‘I couldn’t do that, Sarah. I know my place and it isn’t here. I’ll take myself off to the inn, though I’ll call on you again tomorrow. You may have been brought up to be a lady, but I came from the lower ranks, as your father did. It was because of your mother that he had you educated as a lady.’
Sarah nodded, because she already knew what had been in her father’s mind. Francesca said she would have some refreshments sent into the back parlour so they could be private and Sarah took her uncle there.
‘Please sit down, sir.’
‘I’ll stand, if you don’t mind.’ He looked at her awkwardly. ‘Is it right that you’re to marry Lord Myers?’
‘Yes, Uncle. He asked me and I said yes.’
‘I suppose you know what you’re doing—not always a good idea to mix the classes, but if it makes you happy …’
‘It does. Why did you come all this way?’
‘You’ve been told you were not the child of your father’s wife?’
‘Yes, I have. Was it a lie?’
‘Your mama couldn’t have children. She tried, but it almost killed her and your father wouldn’t let her go through it again—but they both wanted a child.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Your father asked her permission to have an affair with a view to getting himself an heir. It cost her pain, but she gave it …’ He paused and Sarah frowned.
‘So that much is true?’
‘Yes, Sarah. Your father chose a respectable widow who lived in poverty with one child. He gave her money and a house and she promised to give you up when you were born, but … and this is the part that hurts … when the time came she wept and clung to you and he had to force you from her arms.’
Sarah gave a little cry of stress. ‘Oh, but that was cruel.’
‘What was he to do? Your mama longed for a child and you were his. He loved his wife beyond reason and so he took you and gave you to your mama. He adopted you legally and made you his heir. Your mama never knew that he had forced your mother to give you up.’
‘I see …’ Sarah’s eyes felt wet with tears. ‘It is such a sad story. Is it true that my mother came looking for me when she was dying?’
‘She came once to ask if she might see you, but your father refused. He thought she might try to steal you from him. He sent her away and he heard later that she had died of consumption.’
‘Why didn’t he tell me?’
‘I think he thought you might despise him for what he did. He wasn’t a bad man, Sarah—he simply loved your mama too much.’
‘Yes, I see that.’ Sarah blew her nose on a lace handkerchief. ‘Thank you for telling me. It is easier to accept than the story Sir Roger told me—though the truth remains. I was not born in wedlock and my mother was not a lady.’
‘Oh, but she was, Sarah, the equal of your mother—and her husband was also a gentleman, but a terrible gambler. He left her with nothing when he died.’
‘I see … How terrible that must have been for his wife. I think I understand why she agreed to the bargain.’
‘Can you forgive your father—and me for telling that scoundrel? I thought he would make you a good husband, Sarah.’
‘I would never have married him even had he not tried to blackmail me—but I wish I had known the truth.’
‘Would it have made a difference? You could not have been more loved, Sarah. Your mama’s life was so much richer for having you.’
‘Yes, and I loved her—but what of my true mother? It hurts me to think Father sent her away.’
‘He gave her money. She had enough to live decently for the rest of her life.’
‘But she had lost a child. I think that must have been hard for her to bear.’
‘Well, it cannot be changed now.’
‘No, it cannot …’ Sarah looked up as the door opened and a maid entered carrying a tray, which she set down close to Sarah. ‘Thank you, Rose.’
‘Is there anything else, miss?’
‘No, I believe we have all we need.’ She looked at her uncle as the maid went out. ‘Will you have tea or some Madeira wine, Uncle?’
‘I believe the wine,’ her uncle said, looking relieved that the awkward business had gone off better than he might have hoped. ‘You’re such a sensible girl, Sarah.’
‘I have tried to be, particularly since my father died—but I am thinking of selling the mills if Lord Myers can find a suitable buyer.’
‘I made a mistake there as well,’ her uncle said with a look of apology. ‘I thought you’d be better without the burden of those mills—but I should have left it to you decide when you were ready.’
‘I believe I may be ready now—if a trustworthy buyer can be found.’<
br />
‘I reckon as Lord Myers will find you a buyer who can be trusted. Your workers won’t suffer and you’ll be the richer for it. That young fellow has a good head on his shoulders even if he is an aristocrat.’
Sarah laughed. ‘I am glad to hear it.’
‘He says you’re to be married within the month. Your aunt and cousins are invited—so that will mean an expense with all the new gowns.’ Her uncle sighed. ‘But if he’s right for you, it’s worth it.’
Sarah was a little shocked, for Rupert had not told her that he intended the marriage so soon, but she merely smiled.
‘I hope you will give me away, Uncle?’
‘Well, if it’s what you truly want …’ He looked pleased, then shook his head. ‘I hope this other business can soon be sorted out. Sir Roger is an evil man and he needs to be brought to justice.’
‘He was wicked to tell me those lies. I do not know what he hoped to gain by spreading a false scandal.’
‘Mud sticks, girl—especially when you’re not out of the top drawer. No, do not look like that, Sarah. You know some of those top-lofty dames in London society will look down their noses at you, even if you are Lady Myers. They will never forget that your father made his money from trade.’
‘It was a decent, honourable business and I am not ashamed of what Father did for a living—but I think he treated my birth mother ill.’
‘Well, you must make up your own mind on that—but try not to hate him.’
‘No, how could I? He loved me and I loved him—but I wish he had let her at least see me sometimes.’
At that moment a discreet knock at the door heralded Merrivale’s arrival. He greeted Sarah’s uncle with every sign of friendship, shook his hands, insisted he must stay and took him off to speak with the housekeeper about his accommodation.
Sarah was left to the contemplation of her thoughts. She was conscious of a deep ache inside. The knowledge that her mother had been a respectable woman who had given her child to a childless woman but at the last had been grieved to part with her was painful. She wished with all her heart that she might have known her, spent a little time with her.
She needed to talk to Rupert, but knew that he would be with the others. Besides, as kind as he was, she could not expect him to understand her hurt over her mother’s distress and pain.
‘I do not love you the less, Mama,’ she whispered. ‘It’s just that I would have liked to know her, too.’
Feeling an unexpected sweep of loneliness, Sarah left the parlour by the French doors and went out into the sunshine. She knew it was almost time for tea, but she needed a few moments alone to sort out her thoughts. It was difficult to reconcile what her father had done and yet she understood. Mama had always been delicate, but so sweet and gentle. Sarah and her father had both done everything they could to please her and make her life easy and gentle. They had both mourned her desperately.
Her feelings for her mama and her father had not changed, she discovered as she walked in the direction of the rose arbour. However, there was an empty space inside her, a feeling of terrible loss.
Sarah had been wandering for some minutes lost in thought when she became aware of the rustling sounds. She stiffened, glancing over her shoulder just as a man lurched towards her. He had a thick blanket in his hands and she guessed that he had been about to pounce on her. Sir Roger had somehow found his way inside the grounds and was intent on causing her harm.
‘Stay back or I shall scream.’
‘You are far enough from the house for it not to matter,’ he snarled. ‘I’ve plotted and planned for this, Miss Hoity-Toity, and I’ve waited day after day for you to venture out alone. I was about to give up and go back to town—and now here you are.’
Sarah swallowed hard. He was right. She was far enough from the house for her screams not to be heard. Normally there were gardeners about, but she could see none. She had nothing that she could hit him with and only her wits to hold him off.
‘Whatever you do, I shall not marry you.’
‘If you prove stubborn, I may have to kill you.’
‘What good would that do you?’
‘If I can’t have you and your money, I’ll make certain no one else can.’
Sarah gasped. Was he mad or just driven to desperation by his debts?
‘Why do you hate me so?’ He had clearly lost his mind and she must play for time, try to think of a way to escape him.
Sarah heard the twig snap behind her. She thought that he must have heard it, too, but he was lost in his grievances, both real and imaginary, his eyes taking on a strange glazed look.
‘I do not hate you. I love you—you must know that you encouraged me at the start.’
‘That is a lie. I never encouraged you—never wished to be your wife… .’
‘Then I might as well kill you now.’
He dropped the blanket and suddenly there was a pistol in his hand. Even as he lifted his arm to fire, two shots rang out simultaneously and he fell to the ground where he lay, twitching horribly.
Sarah’s scream brought three men running from the shrubbery, two from behind Sir Roger and one from closer to her. She saw that one of them was a man she had thought a gardener, Monsieur Dupree and the other was the man she needed most.
‘Rupert,’ she said, took a step towards him and fainted.
He was there to catch her before she hit the ground.
Chapter Fifteen
Rupert bent down by her side, looking at her anxiously. It was merely a faint rather than serious injury. Pray God they had been in time thanks to the dancing master’s timely warning. Rupert had but dismounted from his chaise when Dupree came rushing at him, shouting that he was sure he had seen Sir Roger lurking in the bushes.
‘I saw Miss Sarah walking alone, but she looked in some distress and so I did not join her—but then I spotted this rogue lurking and came to find help.’
Summoning one of the men he had hired to protect Sarah whenever she went beyond the boundaries of the estate, Rupert had felt for his pistol and smiled because it was already loaded and ready for use. He’d had men searching everywhere for Sir Roger without success, but now it seemed he had come to them. His satisfaction as he pulled the trigger and saw it hit home flared triumphantly through him. The devil had paid for his misdeeds and she was safe.
He felt a rush of tears as he knelt by her side, running his fingers over her face, looking for signs that she was hurt. God help him if he’d been too late.
Rupert lifted Sarah into his arms. She moaned a little, her eyelids fluttering, and he knew a rush of relief. She was alive. Thank God, thank God! His darling girl was alive.
‘Hush, my love. You’re safe now,’ he said and glanced coldly at Sir Roger’s body, which had stopped twitching. ‘Dead?’
‘Oui, of a certainty,’ Monsieur Dupree said. ‘He was shot twice, in the back and the head. Both shots might have killed him.’
‘Good. The rogue deserved to die. Take him to one of the annexes and send for a doctor—and the magistrate. This business is messy and must be cleared up as swiftly as possible if we are to avert a scandal.’
‘Yes, cap’n.’ The old soldier saluted and then bent down to haul Sir Roger’s body over his shoulder. ‘I’ll see to ‘im if the Frenchie sees to the rest.’
Rupert nodded grimly, but made no reply as he strode towards the house carrying his precious burden. As he approached several people came out to meet him, Francesca running towards him, Sir Freddie close behind and the two older men standing on the steps watching.
‘Is Sarah all right? We heard two shots.’
‘We found her in time. Sir Roger was about to kill her—he’s dead. I think the man was entirely mad.’
‘It was my fault,’ William Hardcastle said. ‘I told him her story.’
‘No, he knew it before he even met her. He was bent on getting her fortune, but when she proved too stubborn he decided to settle for revenge.’
‘Good grief. Bec
ause she wouldn’t marry him?’
‘There’s a lot more to the story. Explanations another day, if you please, gentlemen. Sarah’s comfort comes first.’
‘Of course, of course.’
‘Take her to the salon and put her on the daybed.’
‘No, take her up to her room,’ Francesca said. ‘She will want to be private for a while. You should stay with her until she feels better, Uncle Rupert.’
‘Good girl, go up and pull the covers back.’
Francesca was ahead of him as he carried Sarah carefully up the stairs. He knew she was stirring, but she merely buried her head against his shoulder, not saying anything until he had placed her gently on her own bed.
‘Please do not be cross with me, Rupert,’ she said and her eyelids flickered. She sighed and then looked up at him. ‘I know it was foolish to go there alone, but I had something on my mind.’
‘My foolish love,’ he said and bent to brush his lips over hers. ‘Why should I be cross with you? I might be annoyed with your uncle, for I suppose he told you the truth, and I am furious with that devil that tried to murder you—but I could never be angry with you. I love you far too much. If anything, I am angry with myself. There was a letter on my desk warning of an attempt on your life from James Monks, but some papers of mine had covered it and I missed it. If you had died, I should never have forgiven myself.’
Sarah inched her way up against the pillows, looking at him, her lovely eyes wide open as if in surprise. ‘You love me? You truly love me? I thought, but I …’
Francesca discreetly closed the door behind her as she went out. She shook her head at the small group gathered there. ‘No need to worry,’ she said. ‘Rupert will take care of her. She will be quite safe with him.’
Inside the room, Rupert smiled down at the woman who looked at him with such dawning wonder in her eyes. ‘Come, Sarah. This is not like you. Surely you knew I was in love with you? I could barely keep from carrying you off to my bed and ravishing you.’
A smile lit her face, making her look beautiful. ‘I thought you might want to lie with me—but lust does not always mean love, does it? Your uncle said something about you once losing a woman you cared for?’
