The Earl of Heartbreak

by Bethany M. Sefchick

  When he was gone, Sarah closed her eyes. What had she just gotten herself into? She supposed she would find out in a few hours. She also knew there had been no possible way for her to turn down that invitation. For where the Earl of Raynecourt was concerned, she was very weak indeed.

  Rayne paced the Rose Parlor anxiously, which for him was extremely unusual. Ordinarily, he was far more relaxed when it came to dealings with the fairer sex. If anything, he thrived on the very act of coxing women to his way of thinking. However this was Sarah and she was far from ordinary. If anything, she was very, very extraordinary. He would also be very, very lost without her in his life.

  He was rather surprised that she had agreed to join him for dinner. He had half expected that she would send the note back to him torn up into tiny little pieces - and he would have deserved it. That she hadn't done so said to him that there was still hope for some sort of friendship between them. Maybe. If the next few hours went well.

  Retaining Sarah's friendship was important to him, even if he could never tell her so. Unlike most of his friends, Rayne was a scholar by nature, preferring to bury himself in a book about the lives of the ancient Romans or Egyptians than just about anything else, including whoring most nights. Even good friends like Frost and Lord Hunt often rolled their eyes when Rayne cleared his throat and began to expound upon a topic, so long ago they had stopped asking him questions about his studies - even if they had been mildly interested at first. They did not wish to risk a lecture and, as time had passed, Rayne could see their point.

  Not Sarah. Whether it was girlish infatuation or a true desire to learn - and even now Rayne could not say for certain what the true reason for her motivation was - she had asked him question upon question about his studies, never seeming to grow bored with his often times rather lengthy answers. And the more Rayne answered her questions, the more she asked them, and it was from those very questions that their friendship had grown.

  Until they had both come of age, of course.

  Then Rayne had been sent up to Eton for a proper gentleman's education while Sarah had spent a little over a year at Mrs. Witherson's School for Proper Young Society Ladies and he had not seen much of her except during his mother's annual Holly Ball during Christmastide. Later, when they both returned to Society, each had found the other profoundly changed by their time away and neither seemed to know what to do about the matter. They had maintained an uneasy friendship over the years, but Rayne knew that had more to do with the past than the present. Still, he cherished his time with Sarah deeply because if he ever needed the truth spoken to him directly, he could always count on Sarah to do just that.

  However, Rayne was also keenly aware that Sarah was different now than the young girl he had known for so long, the year away giving her a polish and refinement that she had lacked before. Gone was the wild, often-times impetuous girl he remembered from his youth, and in her place was a woman so polite and refined that Society had dubbed her The One. The One what, he wasn't precisely certain but he assumed someone, somewhere knew the answer. Likely they - whoever "they" were - had also been the group to grace her with that awful title in the first place.

  For a good long while now, Rayne had wondered if anything of the old Sarah truly lurked beneath the highly polished and utterly sophisticated surface. Given that he knew he had to stay away from her upon Frost's orders, he had doubted that he would ever find out. Then, one Miss Lavinia Tremont and her passel of problems had swept into Frost's life and suddenly, the always over-protective brother had put another woman's welfare before his sisters'. Before Sarah's.

  That had angered Rayne greatly, for while he liked Lavinia well enough most of the time, she was not Sarah. And never would be. Therefore, when Frost had requested that Rayne keep an eye on Sarah for the remainder of the Season, including during the Balon Incident, Rayne had quite literally jumped at the chance. This was the very opportunity he had been waiting for - to see if anything of his long-ago friend remained. With each waltz they danced and each cup of punch they shared, Rayne came to suspect that the old Sarah was still in there somewhere, lurking just beneath the placid surface she showed to the world. But he still had not been certain.

  That was at least part of the reason why he had kissed her that night on the family's townhome terrace. He wanted to see if the old Sarah was still in there anywhere or if Society had somehow managed to turn her into the flat, boring ideal woman that everyone in the ton believed her to be. If she was really nothing more than an image now and the young girl who had so captivated him gone forever.

  Well, that and the fact that he had been longing to kiss Sarah for as long as he could remember and now the desire to do so was nearly over-powering. Not to mention that it might be his only opportunity to see if she truly tasted as sweet as she did in his rather vivid fantasies.

  Rayne had expected his reaction to her to be powerful, of course. After all, he had harbored feelings for Sarah for so long, how could it be otherwise? However, he had been completely unprepared for the sense of absolute rightness he had felt when he took her in his arms. Or how excruciatingly hard he had become the moment he had touched her. Or how that single kiss made everything in his world, everything he thought he knew and believed in, fall apart in an instant.

  Sarah had been so angry and upset that night and, looking back, Rayne now knew she had every right to be - especially with him. At the time, Rayne hadn't known that Marietta Crestwood was taunting Sarah and following her about Town, reminding Sarah that she, Marietta, had been Rayne mistress while Sarah never would be. He hadn't known about Marietta and her wretched actions at the time, however, and had simply thought that Sarah was being overly dramatic - something she had not been prone to in the past. He had simply wanted to shake up her world. Instead, Rayne had upended both of their worlds and now he was uncertain if there was any going back.

  He wanted there to be, certainly. Even the distant and slightly chilly relationship he'd nurtured with Sarah over the last few years was preferable to not speaking with her at all ever again. If she would ever forgive him, that is. She didn't have to, and he had no right to even ask. He knew that, too. After all, he had all but goaded her into that kiss, taken what he wanted and then not even bothered to say a word to her afterwards. Instead, he had haired out of London like a weak and petulant child. He had left Sarah alone to wonder what she had done wrong. He had also left her to endure more taunts from Miss Crestwood and the whole of Society, or so he had been told.

  And read. The Town Tattler was rather effective in letting everyone know everyone else's sins on a daily basis. Especially his - which were numerous.

  Then that damnable letter had arrived for him at Fairhaven and Rayne had lost all sense of reason. All he could think about was Sarah, roaming the vast English countryside alone and possibly falling prey to highwaymen. Or worse. He hadn't even taken time to read the entire contents of the letter - which, in hindsight, he probably should have. Instead, he had taken off for Hallowby Grange as fast as Mercury, his prized stallion, could carry him.

  It was both the best and the worst idea he had ever had, chasing Sarah across the countryside and to the very doors of Hallowby Grange. Now, Rayne hoped that Sarah would at least give him the chance to explain himself. Not that he deserved it, mind you, but hope did spring eternal. Especially in him.

  "Rayne, if it is your intention to apologize to me by treading a large hole in my late grandmother's favorite carpet, I can assure you that it will not work. In fact, I shall be even more cross with you than I was earlier. Which, as I am certain you can guess, is saying something."

  His head snapped around at the sound of Sarah's melodious voice and for a moment, Rayne was speechless. Clad in a glimmering gown of dusky gold with rose overtones, she shone like the sun breaking through the clouds at twilight. Her hair was loose this evening and not done up nearly so high as normal, giving him a very good idea of how silky and long those tresses actually were. Around her throat, she wore a
single, large black pearl on a golden chain, a gift her had given her - however inappropriate - in secret years before when he had returned from a ten-month jaunt to the Far East.

  In a word, Lady Sarah Tillsbury looked magnificent and radiant, and Rayne wondered how in the world he would ever keep his hands off of her.

  "My lady." He gave her a low bow and prayed she did not notice his cock straining against the front of his evening pants. Apparently even the mere sight of her these days was enough to set him ablaze with need for some odd reason. "Thank you for coming."

  She gave him a small grimace that was also a bit of a twisted up smile at the same time. "This is my home, Rayne."

  "I realize that. Still, you could have left me alone in here with only this lovely carpet for company, such as it is." He gave her what he hoped was a charming grin. "You could have dined elsewhere this evening. In your room, perhaps. In the formal dining room." Another, wider grin when she did not immediately tell him to get out of her sight. "Perhaps even in the stables. Mercury does have fine table manners, or so I am told. Rotten beast doesn't think me fit enough to dine with him, so I can't say from experience."

  As he had hoped, that last comment made Sarah laugh. Thankfully, that was one talent he had not lost over the years. "I would expect nothing less than perfection from your stallion," she teased back and once more Rayne felt a glimmer of hope. Perhaps all was not lost with Sarah after all.

  He also had a new thought pop into his mind, one that he had picked up and discarded so many times over in recent years that it was like an old, worn shoe. Because from the look she was giving him, something deep in his gut told him that there were far more layers and facets to Sarah Tillsbury in this moment than there had ever been before. That same something deep inside also whispered that perhaps, just perhaps, that same old thought he had tossed aside so many times before might not be so unthinkable after all - especially given the way she was biting her lower lip as she studied him. What if her anger had another source? What if she was angry because she had feelings for him and he had walked away from her? What if she cared for him, at least in some small way? The same way he cared about her?

  Was it even possible? A month ago, he would have said no, but now, Rayne began to reconsider his opinion, especially with the wealth of emotions that crossed her face as she stood before him, likely without her even realizing it was happening. Emotions that included something that looked very much like lust, unless he missed his guess. Lust for him - and no one else. He also wondered how, exactly, he might go about discovering the truth of the matter. But that was for later. Now was all about the apology. The lust could wait. For the moment, anyway.

  "And considerably less perfection from his owner?" No sense in wasting words, Rayne decided as she looked at him askance once more. Better to address the issue before them head on he decided as he bowed low and did his best to look as contrite as possible. "Sarah, I am sorry. For everything. I mucked everything up, as I can and often do upon occasion. I hurt you and I am more sorry than you can ever know." He prayed that she wouldn't object to his use of her Christian name, but he wanted her to realize that he was sincere. Once, he had used that name freely, but no longer. It was not his right or his place any longer. He prayed that by using her name again, it might prove to her that he was truly sorry.

  He could see that she wished to say something else but instead Sarah held back, her lips twitching a bit with the effort. Rayne wished that she would not do that, but he couldn't very well force her to speak. Finally, to his relief, she nodded.

  "I accept your apology." Sarah had desperately wanted to ask Rayne if he was sorry about the kiss as well, but finally thought better of it. It was the past. He did not desire her in that fashion. If he did, he would have called upon her at least once in the days after that fateful night. That he had not made his intentions - or rather lack of them - abundantly clear. It was time to let the incident rest. She needed to begin to look forward and not backward.

  "Thank you." Rayne's back was still stiff and Sarah wanted to reach out and grasp him by the arm as she had when they were children and he was nervous about something. But she did not. Instead, she accepted his words with a slight nod of her head, even though her fingers still itched to reach for him. "I really did believe that you were in trouble, Sarah. Please believe me. Not that I thought you incapable of taking care of yourself, of course. I know that you can." Well, she could have at one time anyway, but he did not press the point about how well she could handle her affairs at present. The truth was, he didn't know how skilled she was in that regard. They had been all but strangers for far too long. He no longer knew her intimate secrets the way he once had.

  For a moment, Sarah studied a point on the carpet at her feet, refusing to look directly at him. "And I reacted badly as well. I know that it is not the done thing for unmarried young ladies to venture to their family's country estate alone. Not unless they are spinsters, and even then, they have companions. I was simply feeling at odds over a great many things and was afraid that if I went on with my mother and sisters to Bath I would be miserable company."

  Rayne suspected that he knew the reason Sarah was feeling so out of sorts, but he did not bring up Lavinia and Frost's marriage. Or how she was essentially being forced onto the proverbial shelf by multiple forces beyond her control. She didn't need to become a spinster, but someone had clearly filled her mind to arguments to the contrary.

  Instead, he simply nodded in agreement. Later, when they had patched things up further, he might broach the subject again, but not at the moment. After all, she was not hurtling dinner china at his head, as he had feared that she might. He also did not wish to risk her ire by upsetting her more than he already had. He also did not forget that she was a crack shot, and he prayed that there was no pistol in the vicinity, especially as they had been in the parlor earlier that day.

  No, this was a new beginning coupled with an apology, and he would treat it as such. He would not press. For the moment anyway.

  "Would you care to dine with me this evening, my lady?" Rayne asked as he slowly approached Sarah and offered her his arm. He heard her stomach rumble and he lifted an eyebrow in amusement.

  "I would. Thank you." To Sarah, the conversation still felt a bit stilted but she hoped that would ease as the night wore on. When she reached her place setting however, the smile that broke over her face was genuine and she could feel the rest of the tension between them quickly melt away.

  Reaching down, she snatched up one of the multiple raspberry tarts that had already been placed in a neat pile upon her plate. "How did you know these were my favorites?"

  "I have taken tea with you a time or two," Rayne replied easily, happy that she was so pleased with his gift. When she merely looked at him he sighed with defeat. "Very well. It was Mrs. Dowdy who suggested them. I was merely looking for a way to worm my way back into your good graces. She suggested these might help my cause." He nodded at the tart Sarah still held. "There is also some sort of fowl done in a raspberry sauce, candied yams, and some sort of lemon concoction that is served with fresh cream and just picked raspberries. Or so I am told." He waved a hand in the direction of the kitchen. "Really, I was bumbling about trying to beg your forgiveness. It was your staff who came to my rescue. I must remember to thank them."

  Sarah couldn't resist the thrill that raced up her spine as Rayne helped her into her chair and the footmen began to serve them. "Still, you cared enough to attempt to make amends. That is what is important."

  For in Sarah's mind it was. She had done a bit of thinking by the lake and had come to the conclusion that it was time to move on with her life. Rayne was her friend and likely always would be, but this girlish crush she harbored needed to become a thing of the past if she was to truly settle into the life she had planned for herself a year from now. Though it saddened her a bit, she was grateful that she was now mature enough to deal with the situation for what it was and enjoy the time she had left with him. E
ven if it was only for the night.

  "I do care," Rayne replied softly as he took his seat next to her. "In fact, I probably care more than I should, but I find that I cannot help myself. You are my friend, Sarah, and one of the few who tolerates my ramblings. To lose you would be...unthinkable."

  There was far more he wished to say of course, but he was certain she did not want to hear it - yet. Even if she did harbor secret feelings for him. He had hurt her badly when he had run from London after the kiss and it would take a very long time - if ever - for her to regain the trust in him that she had lost. That was his failing, not hers, and he would not make her more uncomfortable by foisting his unwanted attentions upon her. Had she truly been interested, she would have...well, he wasn't certain what she would have done since he had very little experience with actual ladies of good breeding. However, he was certain that had she been amenable to his attentions, she would have found some way to let him know.

  For all the good it would have done either of them since there was no way in bloody Hell that Frost was going to allow a man like Rayne, a known rogue and occasional reprobate, to court and wed his precious sister. Still, they could have shared the knowledge of their mutual attraction - had it existed - and that would have been enough for him. Or not.

  Sarah watched the play of emotions across Rayne's face and she wished that she truly knew what he was thinking. But it was not for her to ask. Instead, she picked up her wine goblet and raised it in a toast. "And I would be sad to lose you as well, Rayne." She was proud of herself because her voice did not shake in the least as she spoke. "So now that the incident is settled, let us move on." Not that she wanted to move on, of course. If anything, she wanted to go back to that kiss.

  For a moment, she watched him cautiously, and it seemed as if he wanted to say something more. Then he relaxed and that same teasing grin she was so familiar with played across his face. Was he feeling the same twinge of regret that she was since the kiss had gone no farther? Sarah found that difficult to believe. After all, this was Rayne. Yet a part of her saw the hesitation in his expression and wondered if it was the same hesitation she had felt moments before when he had offered her his apology. But no. It could not be. He did not feel as she did and she was simply letting her wild hopes run away with her again. She needed to cease doing that - for her own good if no one else's.