“We all did,” Torrington said, clearly growing impatient. “For school, for the Season, whatever it may have been.”
“Right, right,” David said, attempting not to sigh aloud, deciding to try a different line of questioning. “Did you ever happen to know a woman by the name of Mary Jones?”
The Earl’s entire face lost every bit of color at the mention of Sarah’s mother’s name.
“Why do you ask me such a thing?” he said, his words emotionless, though he couldn’t hide the brief flicker of panic that crossed his face.
David was able to keep himself from smiling in victory.
“I have an acquaintance who had mentioned knowing the woman. Told me she was from the area, and I thought perhaps you might have come across her.”
“She was a healer,” Torrington said gruffly. “We couldn’t summon the physician in time for my mother, and therefore she came to help.”
“I see,” David said, his heart now pumping hard as he realized he had likely found the man Sarah was searching for. “Did you come to know her well?”
The Earl shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Well enough I suppose. She was a village girl. Why do you want to know?” He looked up suddenly, his countenance changed from one of dismissal to one of interest. “Do you happen to know where she is?”
David shook his head slowly. He hadn’t thought of this side of things. He had always assumed that the love was on Sarah’s mother’s side, that the Earl’s interest would have been a fleeting one. And yet… he was in nearly the same position, and his interest in Sarah certainly didn’t seem to be waning.
The only heart he had thought might be broken was Sarah’s, but what if the Earl was still searching for his lost love?
“She, ah…” he cleared his throat when he noted Torrington’s expectant expression. “She passed away a few years ago, I’m sorry to say.”
“I see,” Torrington said, dropping his eyes and hiding any further emotion. “Do you know anything about what happened to her?” He paused for a moment, as though realizing that he was showing far too much interest. “I ask as I’m sure her family would like to know. She had a sister. Though…”
He looked off into the distance, retreating into memories rather than remaining focused on David’s presence. David took a deep breath. Did he tell the Earl? Or did he allow Sarah to meet the man first, and have her tell him herself?
He recalled her plan to meet him, to determine what kind of person her father was before revealing the truth. David drummed his fingertips on the table, for once thinking through every possible outcome of this situation. He longed to tell Torrington, to ensure that Sarah’s news would be welcomed… and yet, he had made a promise, one he knew he must keep.
He took a deep breath.
“I shall tell my friend that indeed, you knew of Mary Jones. I, ah, heard she was rather lovely.”
A faraway smile crossed Torrington’s face.
“That she was. More than lovely,” Torrington said, looking down at his hands now. “She was beautiful, to be sure, but she was also gentle and kind. And yet she possessed a strength unlike any I had ever seen before. The tallest and burliest of men did not have the inner strength my—Miss Jones did.”
Miss Jones. David thought of his own Miss Jones and knew of what the man spoke, that was for sure.
He opened his mouth to thank Torrington, to ask if perhaps he might call upon him the next day, but just then a hand clamped over his shoulder.
“Redmond!” He turned to find an old acquaintance, Lord Hartley, standing behind him. “Good to see you, man. It’s been a time, hasn’t it? I was beginning to worry about you.”
Not worried enough, however, to seek him out. There were few who would do such a thing.
David looked back to introduce Torrington to Hartley, but only then did he notice the man had disappeared. Strange.
“Not to worry,” Hartley said, taking Torrington’s seat. “Your secret is safe with me.”
“My secret?”
“Of course! The fact you are here in this club when you are engaged to my cousin.”
“Your cousin? But—”
“Were you not aware that Lady Georgina and I were cousins? Through our mothers, as it were. She has long been out of London, of course, as they spend most of their time in Bath. Not to worry, Redmond, I didn’t say anything to the family of your… ah, preferences. You’re a good man and was there ever another who would understand, it would be me.”
“Yes, but,” David desperately cut in, “We are not betrothed. Not at all! Our families had one dinner together. I know my parents would like to see me with her, but I… my affections are otherwise engaged.”
Hartley’s eyebrows shot up to nearly his hairline. “Well, well, that is an interesting tidbit of information. The reason, perhaps, I have not seen you around here? Tell me, Redmond, do any of these beauties catch your eye?”
David looked around. Truth be told, for once, he hadn’t noticed any of the women who served both drinks as well as pleasures. He couldn’t very well explain that to Hartley, however.
He sighed. He was well and truly sunk.
“Carolina over there—you know, the redhead? Well, of course, you know her—or have, a time or two before,” Hartley chuckled. “She’s been staring at you since the moment you walked in here. If you want one last chance to take her for a ride, determine if marriage is really what you want, your secret is safe with me.”
David glanced over to where Lord Hartley pointed. Sure enough, there was Carolina, leaning over another gentleman to serve his drink, but her eyes were on David. She was a beauty, though in an entirely different way than Sarah. For so long, David had scoffed at his friends for deciding to spend the rest of their lives with one woman, and now here he was, contemplating very much the same. Could he do it as well? At the moment he was sure, but would that change? He was well aware of how fickle he was—one only needed to ask his parents, or even Hartley himself across the table here. He cursed as he tried to determine what it was he should be doing with his life. At the very least, there was one first step he must make.
“Listen, Hartley,” he said. “I need to speak with Lady Georgina. Can you arrange it? Without our parents?”
“You’re not planning any sort of secret liaison?” Hartley asked, narrowing his eyes, and David shook his head.
“Not at all. In fact, the exact opposite,” he said. “I have no wish for her to be misled—by me or my family. I must tell her the truth of my feelings before this is taken too far.”
“Very well,” Hartley said with a shrug. “I’ll send you a note once I have spoken with her. Good luck with your woman, Redmond.”
“Thank you,” David said, nodding. “I believe I do require it.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sarah was long in bed by the time she heard the door to her chamber finally creak open. She had wondered if David was going to come. He hadn’t said a word to her since they had left the Berkley estate. She had sat within the carriage with the other women. This time Lady Alexander accompanied them, so the conversation was rather stilted and the ride felt interminably long.
David had approached the carriage when they reached Lady Alexander’s home in London, where she disembarked, but Sarah had seen the look that Lady Alexander sent his way, which halted his footsteps. The truth was, however, this was becoming rather ridiculous, his protection of her. How long did he plan to continue it for? At some point, there would have to be a stop to this charade. She felt like a harlot, as it were, allowing him to come to her bed when she knew that there was little chance of a future together. But she didn’t seem to have it within her to say no to him.
“Sarah?” She heard him say her name, just above a whisper, and she thought of feigning sleep once more, but that would have been the cowardly escape.
“I’m awake,” she said, her voice echoing through the room. Only embers remained in the grate, so once David shut the door it was difficult to make him out in
the dim light.
He came over and sat on the edge of the bed, though he made no move to reach out to her, for which she was grateful.
“Where have you been?” she asked to break the silence, but then quickly realized just how her words sounded. “Not that you need to explain yourself to me,” she added in a rush. “I was only wondering. Curious. Creating conversation.”
Since when had she not been able to put together a sentence?
“I, ah…” When he paused, her heart sunk. He had been with another woman. She should have expected it. She never should have imagined anything else. They had never declared themselves for one another, so why should he not seek out another? She had hoped that their time together would mean more, but—“I was at The Red Lion.”
“I see.”
“No, Sarah, you don’t. It’s not what you think. I didn’t go there for other women or anything like that.”
Sarah nodded, despite the fact he couldn’t see her in the dark. Perhaps it was for the best he had been there. Perhaps now was the time to have the conversation that had long been awaiting them.
“It’s understandable if you had,” she said softly, not wanting him to know just how much it would actually hurt her. She had no wish to appear vulnerable to him, nor to anyone else.
“Why would I need to take another woman?” he asked, puzzlement filling his voice.
“It is not as though we are promised to one another,” she said, attempting to keep her voice practical. “And I will be leaving soon, so there is no reason to tie yourself to me.”
“Sarah,” his voice came out softly, near to a whisper. “Must you truly go?”
“When we were at Berkley’s estate, I had the chance to go walking in the woods, to breathe in the fresh air around me. It’s certainly different than home, but it reminded me of how alive I feel when I am outside of the city, away from all the poison that is in the air and within so many people. Not that there are not good people within London, for there certainly are, but it seems that danger is rife around every corner, no matter whether one is within a Mayfair ballroom or on a corner of St. Giles.”
“Please tell me that you have never walked around St. Giles alone.”
She didn’t answer his question, for she knew he wouldn’t like the answer—but she hadn’t been about to turn away from someone in need just because they lived in the wrong part of London.
“Ah, Sarah, you will be the undoing of me,” he said, and she nearly laughed at the despair in his voice, except for the fact that she wished it to be anything but true.
“Anyway, I cannot remain here indefinitely. It would break my soul, break my spirit.”
Would she stay for him, if he asked her? Possibly. The thought tore her in half, but she couldn’t deny that the thought of leaving him was as heartbreaking as the thought of remaining in London for the rest of her life.
But besides that, he didn’t ask. She knew he wasn’t a man that desired any type of settling down.
“Sarah…” he began, and she wanted to stop him, to tell him not to waste any words upon her, and yet she sensed that he had to say whatever it was that was building inside of him. “You know that you… mean much to me, do you not?”
She smiled, a sad smile, glad he couldn’t see her face in the dark.
“I know you care for me, David, yes,” she said. “I hope that I am more to you than other women you have… been with.”
“Of course you are,” he said, surging across the bed, groping in the dim light until he found her hands, then clasping them to him. “I do care about you, very much so.”
Had they been words of love, then perhaps she would have considered telling him that if he wanted her, she would stay. But he was the son of an earl, and she was… well, she was simply Miss Jones. She could never ask him to leave everything for her.
“I care about you as well,” she said carefully. “And I will remember my time with you for the rest of my life.”
She sensed rather than saw him recoil from her, and she immediately regretted her words. But her heart was already breaking, and she couldn’t allow it to be affected by him any more than it already was.
“David—”
“It’s fine. I understand,” he said, his words short as he stood from the bed. Sarah could hear him pacing around the room.
“You do not have to stay here anymore.”
The footfalls of his boots stopped, but he didn’t respond to her words. Instead, he completely shocked her.
“I think I have found your father.”
Sarah’s heart, which had before seemed to be so sore within her chest, now felt as though it had completely stopped.
“You… what?”
“I am about as certain as can be without outright asking him. Your suspicions were correct. It is the Earl of Torrington.”
Sarah could hear loud, rapid breathing, and she wondered why David was so affected—until she realized that she was hearing herself.
“But how… why…?”
She hardly knew what she was asking, but David seemed to understand her question.
“It was the ring. I had it with me at Berkley’s, and Francis recognized it from his days of riding for Torrington.”
“But it’s not the Torrington crest. I’ve seen that.”
“No, it isn’t. It’s Torrington’s mother’s family’s. They were the horse aficionados. Francis recalled seeing it on some of the tack in Torrington’s stable.”
She took in the information, silent for a moment as she reflected on all David had just told her. She hardly knew a thing about Lord Torrington and had spoken to his wife only a few times in the past. She was a rather cold woman, but then, the same could be said for Lady Alexander.
A thought then occurred to her.
“How long have you known of this? When did Eddie tell you?”
“The day of the hunt.”
And at the end of that day, he had come to her chamber.
“Why did you not tell me?”
He sighed. “I could not be completely sure he was the man, and I did not want to raise your expectations. As it is, I… I have no idea how he might welcome the news.”
“I have been aware of that since the moment I embarked upon this journey,” she said, frustrated at the fact he would suppose he could make the decision for her, despite the fact she knew he was doing what he thought was best in looking out for her. She took a breath to release her impatience, recalling that he was doing far more than she had ever requested of him. “What has changed since that time?”
“I went to see Torrington.”
“You did what?”
Sarah forgot her intention to not be upset with David, for the thought of anyone else speaking to the man about his potential to be her father irked her no end. “David, I appreciate all you have done, but I very much wanted to—”
“I never told him about you,” he cut in, walking back over to stand closer to the bed. “I asked him only if he knew of your mother. I told him that your mother and I had a mutual acquaintance.”
“And he believed that? He never questioned how you, the son of an earl, might know my mother, a healer from a village?”
“No, he said not a thing about it,” David replied. “I think he was too overcome, to be honest with you. It seemed to me that he remembers your mother with a great deal of fondness.”
Sarah could hear the incredulity in his tone as he said it, and uninvited bitterness began to rise within her.
“You did not think it possible that he actually felt anything for my mother, did you?” she asked, her voice soft instead of accusatory, sad that he would think such a thing, for if that was the case, then clearly the “care” he had for her was nothing more than what she had always assumed it to be.
“I don’t know, Sarah. I suppose I always had my doubts,” he said with an exhale, and she cringed inwardly. He was not even aware of how alike the two situations were. “The story of your mother leaving… I have heard such tales
before, however, usually the woman was forced out of the household, instead of leaving of her own accord. This is the world in which I was raised.”
“So you thought that my mother was sent away by the family, and then she told me a different story, one in which my father loved her?”
“It’s not like that, Sarah,” he said, frustration underlying his words. “I wasn’t sure what to think. But I was of the mind that either way, your mother would have told you the same story. What mother would tell her child that she hadn’t been wanted, hadn’t been loved by one of her parents?”
It seemed as though Sarah was floating away from her body as her limbs were like lead, her consciousness outside of herself. This was what she had been waiting for so long, and yet now that she was aware of all she had been searching for, it was overwhelming her in waves.
“Look, Sarah, I am sorry if that seemed rather heartless. I did not mean it to be that way. The truth is, your mother must have been a wonderful woman, for she raised you, and I’ve never met someone who has a kinder, lovelier heart than you.”
Sarah heard David’s words, but it was difficult to listen to exactly what he was saying. She pulled the blankets closer to her chest, as though if she hid away within them, she would forget all else.
“I think… I think I’m going to go to sleep,” was all she said, and then suddenly David was over top of her, leaning against the bed.
“Are you all right?” he asked, and she could just make out the dim outline of his eyes in the dark.
“I’m fine,” she said, turning away from him. She had no wish for him to see how affected she was, by both his words as well as the news he had shared. “We can discuss all of this further in the morning?”
“Very well,” he said, though he remained by her side for a moment longer. “Goodnight, Sarah.”
She said nothing but stared at the wall for a long while until she finally fell into an exhausted sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Three
When David had imagined returning to Sarah and sharing the news of all he had discovered, the scene had certainly played out much differently than the reality. In his mind, he would share his news, she would fall into his arms with gratefulness, and then together they would celebrate completing her mission, and he would take her to see the Earl, where the father and daughter would be reunited while David looked on with satisfaction.
Lady of Charade Page 16
