She walked over to her wardrobe with some determination. Which tired dress she would wear tonight, she had no idea. She had only a few that remained fashionable, and even then, she was sure they had been seen far too often. She stroked her hand over the silver one, her favorite, and decided one more wear wouldn’t hurt. Had Mr. Redmond seen her in it before?
Enough, Sarah, she scolded herself. It didn’t matter what Mr. Redmond thought or had seen. He had already seen her in her nightrail and wrapper, for goodness’ sake! Surely he would hardly notice if she wore the same dress twice.
As she pulled the dress out, she realized that she had assumed he would be present tonight, though in his current state she would actually advise him not to attend, were she asked. Yet she hoped he wouldn’t heed such advice. For the truth was, she wanted to see him again. And she wasn’t sure what to do about such a thought.
*
Sarah’s first question was answered when she walked into the home of the Earl and Countess of Torrington later that evening. The house was spectacular, the Countess obviously taking great care in the upkeep of her home. Everything seemed to be gilded and painted in magnificent fashion, clearly aimed to impress—and impress it did, with its Egyptian flavor and spacious, connecting rooms. Sarah wondered what their country estate must look like if this was their London home.
“Do not crane your neck so,” Lady Alexander admonished from beside her, and Sarah turned and smiled ever so slightly at her, vowing not to do so any longer. Lady Alexander had been kind to her ever since they had met, though her tone could come off as rather harsh. Sarah was aware that she said such things for no reason other than to assist her in fitting in with the noble set.
And there he was—Mr. Redmond. He was rather pale and his eyes seemed hallowed, one blackened, and as he shocked Sarah by walking straight toward her, his steps somewhat sloppy, Sarah found herself admonishing him as a nervous wife would her husband.
“Mr. Redmond, I hardly think you are fit for a party,” she said, her hands on her hips, as Lady Alexander stared at the two of them, her features composed yet her eyes flitting between the two of them in her confusion.
“Perhaps not,” he agreed as he lifted his drink to her in a salute. “But I have been restored to rights well enough that I am already tired of my own company.”
“Are you… not well, Mr. Redmond?” Lady Alexander asked, finding her voice, and Mr. Redmond turned to her as though he had just noticed her presence.
“I had a bit of an accident the other day,” he explained. “I find I am now feeling a great deal better.”
“Very good,” she said, then gestured to Sarah. “And you are acquainted with Miss Jones, or may I introduce her?”
“Of course, I have had the pleasure of meeting Miss Jones through mutual good friends,” he said with a smile that was, of course, meant to charm Lady Alexander. “And here they come now. If you will excuse me. A dance later, Miss Jones?”
Sarah could only nod as she watched him stride over to the Duke of Clarence, and she turned to find Lady Alexander’s shrewd gaze upon her.
“What was that about?”
“He was being friendly, I suppose,” Sarah said, trying to shrug off Mr. Redmond’s attention.
“How were you aware that he had been involved in an accident?” Lady Alexander asked, and Sarah stilled for a moment.
“The Duchess of Clarence informed me of it,” she finally said. She had never shared with Lady Alexander her abilities as a healer. She felt the woman might disdain her endeavors, telling her that she must stop before being found out by anyone within the nobility. If she ever discovered that Sarah had actually treated one of her own station, Sarah knew Lady Alexander would be more than scandalized.
“Well, please be careful of the man,” Lady Alexander murmured. “I know he is a charming one, but it is well known that his affairs are not kept particularly discreet and that he has no interest in actually committing to any one woman.”
“Yes, I am aware,” Sarah said. “I will be on my guard, Lady Alexander. Thank you.”
And at that, Lady Alexander nodded, stared at her for a moment as though assessing the truth of her words, and then continued on her way, leaving Sarah alone with jumbled thoughts—and finally, the realization that if she wanted to do a further search of the Earl, there would be no better time to do so than now.
Chapter Nine
David kept an interested eye on the innocent Sarah Jones. She looked lovely tonight, dressed in an ethereal silver gown that shimmered when she walked. He wondered where she had found the money to dress in such a fashion. Surely not from the patients who appeared at her doorstep, for he doubted many of them could pay anything near what would keep her in fine fashions.
Wherever her funds came from, she clearly wasn’t spending it on her lodgings.
As Lady Alexander walked away from her, David watched the woman shrewdly. She had married well, he knew, but had been widowed some years ago, with no children to speak of. Miss Jones seemed grateful to her, but David couldn’t help his own bitterness that she would leave Sarah to fend for herself in potential danger when she would have more than enough room in her own home to house her apparent charge.
It was all quite bizarre, he thought, as he tapped a hand against his leg. David had been raised in every sense of propriety, and though he often shirked what he knew to be morally right, he had never strayed far from what was appropriate in the eyes of society.
Miss Jones broke most conventions, though she was rather silent about it, which his own mother would appreciate.
He watched her now look around the room somewhat… furtively, almost, as though determining whether or not she was being watched. Then with a slow swish of her silver silk, she turned and made her way to the corridor leading out of the large drawing room, which tonight was serving as a mock ballroom. Where was she going? She had just arrived.
David knew he was being somewhat obsessive, but he couldn’t help the curiosity this woman created in him. Where was she going? He set his drink down on a side table and followed her, nodding to acquaintances as he made his way through the room, uncaring whether he seemed rude to not stop and have any further discussions, as he didn’t want to lose her. He stepped into the empty corridor just as he saw her ahead of him, noting the shimmering gown and the soft cinnamon of her hair slipping through a door near the end of the hall.
He followed as silently as he could. David hardly wanted to admit it, even to himself, but he was well-versed in the art of stealth from sneaking out of a few homes and establishments in his time.
Miss Jones had left the door to the room she had entered ajar, and David followed behind, peeking in through the crack. This looked to be the Earl’s office, and she was now sitting behind the desk, rifling through loose pieces of paper on the tabletop before opening the top drawer.
David thought back to her story. Was she actually looking for proof that the man might be her father? He had no idea how she thought she might find such a thing by looking through the man’s desk. She bent down, attempting to open one of the solid mahogany drawers, but it must have been locked, for she grunted in her attempt to do so.
He nearly laughed, but then he heard footsteps from behind him—firm footsteps that seemed to be well aware of their destination, and a quick look revealed the Earl himself walking down the hall.
David slipped into the room, shutting the door behind him as quietly as he did, but from the gasp that echoed around the room, he had clearly startled Miss Jones. She sat up quickly, bumping her head on the top of the desk as she did so, emitting a quiet yet audible yelp.
Hearing the footsteps approaching on the other side of the door, David lunged toward her. With no time to explain, he grasped her by the waist, picked her up to swing her in front of the desk, and then set her down in front of him, wrapping his arms around her and taking her lips in a passionate kiss, practically bending her backward over the desk.
It was just in time too, for bef
ore Miss Jones had any time to react besides grasping the lapels of his jacket in order to help prevent herself from falling over, the door swung open behind him.
“I say!” came the shocked exclamation, and David lifted his head, though he kept his arms around Miss Jones in order to keep her from falling. He turned to look behind his shoulder, allowing a sheepish smile to cross his face.
“Lord Torrington!” he exclaimed. “How are you this evening?”
The Earl lifted an eyebrow. “I am well,” he said slowly. “And just what do you think you are doing in my study, Redmond?”
David looked around him as though he were just realizing where he was.
“My deepest apologies, Torrington,” he said. “I became rather carried away, I’m afraid, and opened the first door I came to. Forgive me? And please,” he lowered his voice, “You’ll keep this between us, I hope? I wouldn’t want the lady’s reputation to be brought into question.”
Torrington stood there for a moment, apparently caught between anger at finding them within his private area and understanding David’s predicament.
Finally he sighed and waved a hand in the air.
“I’m not a gossip, Redmond, therefore I will not be saying anything. Just keep out of my study, all right? Take your tryst elsewhere.”
David nodded.
“Of course. My apologies once more.”
He took Miss Jones’ hand in his own, then led her out of the office. It was only when they were back in the corridor once more, the door shut behind them, that he risked a look at her face. Her eyes were wide, a hand pressed against her lips as she stared out in front of them.
When she eventually turned up to look at him, he was concerned about how she might react. Would she slap him for taking such liberties, or would she understand that he had only taken such action in order to keep her from being found out?
He waited for a moment, hesitant—typically he had full awareness that his affections were well-received, but in this case…
Then she burst out into laughter.
He paused for a moment, surprised at her reaction, but then he began to chuckle himself, for her mirth was contagious.
“Thank you,” she finally said. “That was quite close. Goodness, what would the Earl have thought if he had come into his study to find me going through his desk?”
“He would likely be wondering the same as I am—just why were you studying Lord Torrington’s personal files?”
“And just why were you watching me do so?”
They stared at one another for a moment, not in any animosity, but in silent contemplation. She finally relented.
“I was looking for information—any hints that he might be the man I suppose him to be.”
“Your father?”
“Yes.”
“What were you thinking, that he would keep a record of your birth upon the top of his desk?”
He placed a hand on her back as they spoke, moving her away from the door and down the hallway. Opening another door, he found a small sitting room with a fire cheerily lit in the grate—a room that was quite obviously more welcoming to any guests of the party, unlike the Earl’s unlit, dark, cold study.
They entered, and he gestured for her to take a seat on the sofa while he chose a chair across from her.
“Honestly, Mr. Redmond, I have no idea what I am doing any longer. I seem to have come to a complete stall in my search.”
She looked so defeated that David longed to stand and take her in his arms once more. For the truth was, though their kiss had been brief and for a greater purpose, he could still feel her lips upon his, could taste the lemonade she had obviously just drank, and all that the kiss had succeeded in doing, besides masking her true actions, was stir his passion and left him wanting more.
But now wasn’t the time to attempt any more with her.
He tilted his head to the side as he contemplated her situation.
“I wonder,” he murmured, “If you are going about this in the wrong direction.”
“What do you mean?”
“You have been focused on determining who your father is, correct?”
She nodded.
“Have you not thought that perhaps the better option may be attempting to determine who wrote you the letter? This mysterious person obviously holds the answers to your questions. Why would he or she not provide them to you?”
“I have no idea,” Miss Jones responded with a shrug of her shoulders. “Perhaps this is all some great farce.”
“I doubt it,” he said with a frown. “For what purpose would that serve? No, I believe there is some greater work at play, though what, I have no idea. Have you the letter still?”
She nodded. “In my rooms, yes.”
“I will take a look at it this evening, then,” he said, and she looked up at him, her eyes widening once more.
“You would like me to bring it to you?”
“No, you can show it to me when I come to your lodgings.”
“And just why would you be returning once more, Mr. Redmond?
“Do you not recall me telling you I would return? I can hardly leave you alone, Miss Jones.”
“I enjoy being alone, Mr. Redmond, and have been for some time.”
“Nevertheless,” he said, shaking his head. “No longer.”
“But—”
“I will tell no one. Your reputation is safe with me.”
At her quirked eyebrow, he laughed.
“All right, that is the first time I believe I’ve ever said that to a woman. But rest assured, I will tell no one of this arrangement.”
“Will your family not notice when you are never home to sleep?”
He snorted and shook his head.
“I have my own lodgings, and my family didn’t even notice I was gone for two days when you were caring for me,” he said. “It seems, Miss Jones, that there is no one who cares more about my whereabouts and wellbeing than you currently do.”
She wrinkled her nose, and David was well aware that she was likely reflecting on the fact that she didn’t overly care, so what did that mean for everyone else?
“We will discuss this later, Mr. Redmond,” she said instead, and he smiled, knowing that was as near to victory as she would apparently admit.
“Very well,” he said, but then continued on another tack. “What about Lady Alexander?”
“What about her?”
“Have you thought about whether or not she might have a connection to the letter writer, your mother, or your father?”
“Oh no,” she said, shaking her head. “I met Lady Alexander… at another point in time. She is unconnected to the whole of it.”
He pursed his lips. “I am not so sure.”
“I am.”
“Very well,” he said, not wanting to push her on this, but deciding he would look into it himself. “We best not remain ensconced in here for too long—who knows what others may think of us.”
He winked at her, rose, and held out his hand to help her rise before leading her to the door.
Damn, Miss Jones. The more he tried to keep himself away, the closer he found himself to her.
Chapter Ten
Sarah waited for the barrage of warnings from her friends, and she was not disappointed when they arrived at her side but moments later. She hadn’t seen them at the party previously, but then Phoebe and Elizabeth usually arrived slightly later than many of the guests. Sarah was pleasantly surprised to find that even Julia was in attendance tonight. Eddie must have a race in London or some time away from the track.
“Do we even need to say anything?” Elizabeth asked as she approached and Sarah sighed, suggesting they sit around one of the provided tables before she began to tell pieces of the story—of Mr. Redmond appearing on her doorstep, her treatment of him, and what she had shared of her own life. Her friends looked surprised yet contemplative as she spoke.
“He may have a point,” Phoebe mused, and Sarah furrowed her brows.
“About what?”
“Lady Alexander,” she said. “I always have found it to be a rather interesting situation—that you would so coincidentally meet this woman who would agree to be your chaperone yet nothing more.”
“She enjoys her privacy,” Sarah said, defending Lady Alexander. “Besides, without her, I wouldn’t even find myself at any such parties.”
“Gabriel has been unable to find any untoward connections thus far,” Elizabeth said, before catching Sarah’s look. “I know, I know, you did not ask for him to look into anything regarding her. He was simply covering all possibilities. He was quite discreet, of that, I can promise you.”
“Well, I must thank you all for your support, anyway,” Sarah said, biting her lip before she felt a hand on her arm and looked over to Julia.
“I know I have not been around much, and for that, I apologize,” she said, and Sarah waved away her words, knowing well that Julia’s lifestyle did not allow for a great deal of time in London. “Please tell me if I am wrong, however, it seems that you and Mr. Redmond are somewhat… familiar with one another.”
Familiar as in the fact they had slept in the same room for two nights, that she had treated his injuries while appreciating the beauty of his body, and that he had perused her person wearing nothing more than a nightrail and wrapper? That he had remained in the room while she had changed from said nightrail into her muslin dress, her nerves jumping at every touch of fabric as it brushed over her body?
“Not overly,” Sarah answered, though she could feel warmth creeping up her cheeks. “We are acquainted, that is all.”
Time to change the subject, she decided.
“Julia, Eddie used to ride for the Earl of Torrington, did he not?”
“He did,” Julia confirmed. “That was when all of the scandal occurred, however, and the Earl has not been around the race track often since that time.”
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