Robert looked slightly taken aback at her abruptness, but then with a quick bow he said, ‘Your carriage awaits, Miss Littlejohn.’
With a regal tilt of the head Sarah proceeded him out of the front door.
After helping her into the carriage, he climbed into the driving seat and taking a firm hold on the reins of his fidgety bloodstock shouted to his tiger to let them go.
As soon as they moved off Sarah could tell that the pair were not well matched for their demeanours were at variance with their task, making work and concentration for their handler.
If Robert’s hands seemed somewhat overly heavy on the reins at times, he at least had firm control. Sarah could hear herself chattering about all the things she hoped to do and see while in London and with the sudden knowledge that she was being a bore, stopped. After several minutes of silence, Robert glanced across to her a smile breaking over his face.
‘Why the silence, Sarah?’
‘Please forgive me for rambling on so. I must be boring you to death.’
‘On the contrary your freshness inspires.’ He caught the chestnuts heads back as they bowled through the gates and into the park. There were many people out in the bright summer sun, driving, riding and walking. In places the carriages had drawn into a cluster while the occupants conversed and made passing difficult for others.
Children played alongside the pathways while nannies pushed perambulators and everywhere people bowed and acknowledged their friends and acquaintances.
It was not long before two horsemen drew up alongside their carriage and Robert introduced them as Philip Wareham and Thomas Canning, old friends from school days. Mr Canning appeared the fop with his over contrived neck cloth and an eyeglass he did not seem able to keep in place, while the foxy eyes of Philip Wareham made Sarah feel decidedly uncomfortable. Fortunately they did not stay long.
Now, a lady who Sarah recognised as having met at one of Charlotte’s parties waved to her and soon they themselves were the cause of a traffic blockage. Robert’s horses were unhappy in this situation and began to behave rather badly. One of them with a toss of his head sank his teeth into the rump of a neighbouring horse. This set up quite a furore and it was into this melee that Jack’s voice carried from behind Sarah’s shoulder.
‘If you must buy scatty stock Robert, then at least have the decency to keep them out of harms way. Good day, Sarah,’ he lifted his hat as he rode by.
Robert swore under his breath as he struggled to bring his animals back under control and move them out to the side of the road.
‘Forgive my language,’ he apologised.
‘It is already forgiven.’ She could see he was seething with anger at Jack’s tactless remark.
‘You have met our mutual friend?’ He asked nodding towards the fast disappearing back of the rider on the large bay stallion.
‘I have indeed and believe me he is the last person in the world to be critical of your handling of the ribbons.’
‘How so?’
And she proceeded to tell him of her first encounter with the high-handed Jack Edgeworth. ‘Of course I did not know who he was at the time and he did not see fit to make it known to me.’
Surprise etched itself across Robert’s face. ‘No, well he can be a deuced devious fellow.’
‘Devious!’ Sarah’s brows pleated the delicate skin above her nose. She could think of many names she could call Jack Edgeworth but devious was not one of them.
‘But let us not waste time over Edgeworth. Where do you go this evening and I will make certain of my attendance.’
Sarah laughed. ‘It may be ladies only.’
‘Then I shall disguise myself and bring along my sewing.’
And so the mood of the outing took an upward swing. Many heads turned to watch the carriage bowl by with the young couple so obviously in high good humour.
In the distance a lone horseman watched with narrowed eyes.
‘I have seen more of young Robert these last two months than I have since the day he was born,’ complained Charlotte one evening on their way home from a supper party.
Sarah smiled to herself. Life was proving tremendously enjoyable. Not by nature a flighty person yet she found great fun in the hectic pursuit of pleasure that London offered. Never having believed herself anything but plain and not being the type to be taken in by flattery she never the less realised that all the attention now showered upon her was moulding a new Sarah.
She stared hard at herself in the mirror that evening, fine clothes and fashionable hair styling had done the rest. There was a sparkle to her eyes and a lift to her chin. A curtain of confidence and sophistication was brushing away the last shreds of shyness.
‘Papa was right,’ she thought, ‘it is changing me.’ She climbed into bed feeling rather sad. When she had set forth on this adventure it had been with the intention of enjoying herself for a short period, then returning home to care for her father with a wider knowledge of people and life to aid her. Unlike most of her contemporaries Sarah had no pressure upon her to marry. The London season however was not named the ‘marriage mart’, without reason.
Aware of the circulating gossip that she was Charlotte’s heir and that this added greatly to her attraction, she had told Robert that very evening, it was more than possible that Jack was the real heir.
* * *
The days passed quickly for now as well as day to day engagements there were the preparations for the royal ball. Sarah’s head whirled as her aunt turned away design after design for their gowns.
Charlotte was determined they must outshine all others. She would know the correct design when she saw it she told an anxious Sarah. This took longer than anticipated and when eventually the designs were settled upon it was the materials that were unacceptable.
As time shortened still further there were long weary sessions of fittings until as Sarah explained to Betsy one afternoon two days before the ball. ‘I am beginning to wish it all over.’
Betsy chuckled and shook her head. ‘No you don’t, Miss. You’re just burstin’ with excitement,’ and they both laughed together.
Next morning, Sarah went driving with Robert in the park as had become their habit. This morning he was quiet, but roused himself enough to ask how her plans for the ball were coming along.
She told him but could see from his expression he was paying scant attention. So she asked him with some concern if anything was amiss as it was not like him to be so inattentive.
‘Forgive me Sarah, it is a family matter. I have to go into the country for a few days, so I shall miss your coming out. I deeply regret this sweet Sarah, but it is unavoidable. Have a wonderful time,’ he said and gave her hand a quick squeeze.
‘Oh dear, how unfortunate,’ she was disappointed, of course, she had wanted very much Robert to see her at her best. She realised that she had come to depend upon Robert’s support, perhaps more than was wise. He had been kind and attentive for more than three months now, but he had never hinted by so much as a word that his feelings were anything but friendly concern.
A party of gentleman riding towards them hailed Robert. He frowned but drew up.
‘Good morning to you, Sarah.’ Jack’s deep voice startled her and she gave an involuntary jump as he came alongside the carriage. She had not seen him since their last meeting in the park when he had been so rude to Robert.
She felt once more the overbearing power of man and horse as he leant over the horse’s neck to speak to her. ‘Poor choice of escort for so beautiful a lady.’
‘Morning, Robert,’ he added swiftly as Robert turned from taking leave of his friends. ‘Very quiet these days.’ With that he lifted his hat in salute and cantered off.
Robert shrugged and drove on.
Sarah was furious. ‘Why is he always so rude?’
Robert smiled. ‘Rub you up the wrong way, did he? Take no notice, he is just an ignorant gypsy.’
The following day dawned bright and sunny. Betsy decreed that Sarah lie in t
hat morning as she would need to look her best for the evening. By ten o’clock she could lie in bed no longer.
She needed to walk, but here in London there were no fields so she went out into the garden and down to the arbour in the hedge. Opening the book she had brought with her she read deeply until a shadow passed over her page. She looked up into the sun. A dark figure crossed the lawn and disappeared through a gap in the hedge on the other side.
A servant, she presumed, then she frowned with suspicion, his clothes had been those of a gentleman. She stared after the unknown intruder and decided to return to the house and visit her aunt.
Charlotte sat up in bed, a throng of hairdressers each with different wigs in various styles and colours rushed here, there and everywhere like a drone of angry bees.
‘Come in child, come in,’ Charlotte called above the noise. ‘These silly fellows have mixed the wrong colour with the wrong style. Now I will have to start all over again, oh what a bother.’ She gave a great sigh that shook her bulk and made the covers quiver.
‘Have the gowns arrived yet?’
‘Yes aunt, no need to fret, everything is as it should be.’
‘What a blessed relief.’
At that moment Sedgewick arrived, scowling when she saw Sarah. In two minutes the room was cleared of twittering hairdressers and a large red wig stood in solitary splendour on a nearby chest. Sarah had to admit that however unpleasant the woman was she was certainly efficient.
‘I almost forgot,’ Charlotte cried, as Sarah was about to leave the room. ‘We dine early this evening as Jack calls at seven.’
‘Jack?’ Sarah queried. When she left the room a definite shadow had fallen across her pleasure. She just hoped that once at the ball Jack’s attention would be diverted elsewhere.
Later that evening when Betsy had finished helping Sarah to dress, she stood back with a little whisper and said, ‘Oh Miss, you’re beautiful.’
Sarah smiled and gazed at her other self in the mirror. Was it really her? Her reflection pleased her of course, but it made her a little afraid also.
She looked so totally different from the real Sarah. A frown crossed her brow. I should not have come, I should have stayed at home with father, she thought.
Then an inner voice reminded her it was what her mother would have wanted for her, an adventure that she herself had looked forward to with great excitement not so long ago.
A silver ribbon held the wispy white gown beneath her bosom while the bodice, sleeves and hem were edged with roses of silver thread.
Long white gloves covered her arms below small puff sleeves. More silver ribbon wound through the warm toffee-coloured curls on her head, lighting the blue of her eyes. A single strand of lush pink pearls was her only jewellery.
This was the picture she presented to Jack as she swept softly down the stairs at seven o’clock that evening. He was standing by the fire in the hall talking to Charlotte. Resplendent in close fitting evening clothes he was half turned towards the stairs, thereby being the first to see her descend.
Charlotte was dressed in lavender and adorned with more jewellery than a tree at Christmas. On top of the red wig sat a monstrous yellow turban.
She looked up when her company’s conversation came to an abrupt end and surprised a look of unguarded admiration on Jack’s face. She smiled and nodded to herself as they left for the ball.
Sometime later that evening Sarah found herself dancing with Jack for the second time.
‘Well little Sarah, you are a great success. How do you feel finding yourself in such demand?’
Her eyes danced with mischief and she laughed happily. ‘I do not know how you are here sir, for my card was filled a long time since.’
‘True, I had to bribe the fellow for his place and I doubt I would have availed myself of it then, but I was twice his size.’ They both laughed at this and Sarah tipping her head to one side looked up at him through long lashes and decided he was quite pleasant when he smiled. I expect he could charm apples from trees, she thought, if he set his mind to it.
By midnight Charlotte was showing signs of early boredom. Sarah had collected numerous admirers and was quite drunk with tiredness and heady success. So Jack was called to order their coach. Once returned to Beverly Square, Charlotte excused herself and stamped off to bed. Sarah was dancing around the hall humming to herself. Jack caught her as she glided past.
‘You must go to bed now, little Sarah,’ he whispered softly as she fell against him.
‘Goodnight Jack,’ she whispered back, draping her arms around his neck. ‘And thank you for not spoiling tonight.’
He frowned lightly then lifting her into his arm he carried her upstairs and set her down at her bedroom door. Their eyes met and held for a moment, then he ran a hand through her hair disentangling the ribbon before turning on his heels and leaving.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Sarah slept long and deep. When she woke it was to be told by Betsy that Mr Robert Rossingham was in the morning room and wished to speak urgently with her. With Betsy’s help she dressed quickly and went downstairs.
Robert stood with his back to the room, looking out into the street, but on hearing her enter, swung round and crossed the floor to her side.
‘Lord, how I have missed you, Sarah. Even these short hours.’
She smiled and began to tell him all about the ball. They sat and talked some twenty minutes when Robert suddenly asked if she intended accepting any offers of marriage.
Sarah laughed. ‘I have had no offers and met no-one to whom I wish to be married.’
‘Not even me?’
Sarah gasped at the unexpected declaration.
‘Why, Robert, I cannot say,’ she replied, trying to cover her confusion.
‘I thought lately you had grown a little fond of me. I must admit I had no idea of my own attachment until I had to leave you on your most important day.’
His voice, strong and urgent as he moved closer to her and took her hands in his.
‘Please, Sarah, say you will marry me. I have no great fortune but I am sure Charlotte will do right by you. I have a small income and an estate in Hampshire. I know we could be happy there.’
Gently, Sarah withdrew her hands. ‘Robert, should you not . . .’
‘You’re right, of course,’ he declared, moving swiftly back to the window where he stood with his back to her. ‘My heart is so full of feelings for you, it would not listen to reason. Had I known for sure that you felt for me as I for you, then I must ask permission of Charlotte and your father, but first I must know how you would receive my proposal.’
Sarah was all to bits. They had known each other for such a short time. In truth she did enjoy his company, had looked forward to his company, but marriage.
‘I cannot possibly give you my answer now, Robert. I must have time to consider.’
‘Of course you must. It was wrong of me to press you like this.’ He crossed the floor to the sofa and, taking her hand, sat down beside her once more. ‘We are still friends?’
‘You will always be my friend, Robert and I promise not to keep you waiting too long for my answer.’
He smiled, running his thumb softly back and forth across her inner wrist.
Sarah smiled back, but his touch failed to stir any emotion within her heart.
Eventually he stood up and took his leave of her. She had promised him an answer in the next few days.
Early morning sun poked sly fingers between the heavy velvet drapes of her aunt’s bedroom where Sarah sat on the end of Charlotte’s bed and listened to the non-stop grumbling of an interrupted sleep.
‘Are you going to sit there and mope after rousing me from my sleep or will you inform me what this urgency is all about.’ Charlotte straightened her nightcap and growled at Sedgewick to fetch her a warmer shawl as this child seemed determined to freeze her poor aunt to death.
Sarah waited until the scowling maid had left the room. ‘I am sorry to have woken yo
u, Aunt, but I have some news that I felt I must acquaint you with.’
‘Come, come child, out with it.’
‘Robert has asked me to marry him.’ Sarah held her breath in anticipation of Charlotte’s surprise but was shocked when her aunt bounced up in bed and shouted at the top of her voice for Sedgewick.
‘Go child, go, await me in the morning room.’
‘But Robert’s proposal . . .’
‘All in good time, all in good time. Run along now,’ and she screamed once more for Sedgewick though the woman was already in the room.
The house was turned inside out as servants pranced and scattered as if blown by the wind beyond the door. Sarah sat across the fireplace opposite her aunt attempting to embroider, but worry and curiosity had her misplace her needle time and again. At last she gave up and laying her work to one side gazed across at her aunt.
Charlotte had dressed in what for her was an amazing turn of speed, refused breakfast and was nibbling at small biscuits and drinking hot chocolate. Her wig not well placed clashed horribly with the orange turban. Still she presented a formidable figure, ramrod straight despite her size, her expression right at that moment one of promising battle to come.
Sarah pondered the cause of all this upheaval. Was it because of Robert’s proposal, was her aunt so set upon this match with Jack Edgeworth that she would demand his presence in Beverly Square that very morning for she had threatened the servants not to come back without him. She watched her aunt chewing at her lower lip while pleating repeatedly the gown in her lap and knew there was more to come.
Jack failed to put in an appearance until well after the midday meal. When he was announced Charlotte placed a hand upon her heaving bosom and said to Sarah, ‘Leave us child, but do not stray far.’
Furious at being kept in the dark, Sarah picked up her sewing and left the room as Jack entered.
Twenty minutes later, Betsy came looking for her. ‘You’re wanted in the morning room, miss.’
Jack stood at the mantelpiece regarding Charlotte who sat with a determined expression upon her face. When Sarah was ushered into the room Charlotte indicated that she should come and sit next to her. Jack examined the immaculate shine on his boots and remained silent as Charlotte began to explain to Sarah why she must go into the country with Jack.
A Dark Gentleman Page 3
