The Earl of Heartbreak

by Bethany M. Sefchick

  When she pulled back to look at him, her emerald eyes alight with passion, he knew that, lack of experience or not, she did indeed know the difference.

  They were also both so engrossed with each other that they did not hear the brush in the distance being trampled as a very angry Baron Hodge stomped his way back across the field and mounted his horse so that he could return home, thoroughly disgusted with what he had just witnessed and trying to decide how best to use the potentially scandalous scene to his advantage.

  Chapter Six

  "I understand you were out a good bit with Lord Raynecourt today." Colleen did her best to pretend to be busy arranging Sarah's hair into some sort of elaborate coiffure, but as this was the third time that the maid had attempted to move the same piece of hair into a new position and then back again to the old one, it was clear there was something more on her mind.

  Sarah, who was certain that her maid meant to chastise her and refused to be swayed on the issue, met the other woman's eyes in the mirror. "I was. We visited most of the tenants and then stopped at the old graveyard to pay our respects." Not to Sarah's father, certainly, but to the rest of her deceased ancestors. They, at least, merited some respect.

  "Be careful, miss. Please." Colleen no longer made any attempt at arranging Sarah's hair and instead placed her hands on her hips. "My brother is married to the lady's maid for a Mrs. Horsham. She was the widow of a captain and one of the earl's old ladybirds back in London, if you excuse me saying so."

  "I am well aware of who Hortense Horsham is," Sarah replied calmly, even though she still hated even uttering that dreadful woman's name. In fact, Sarah knew a good bit about many of Rayne's former lovers. Not all of them certainly, but most. It was difficult not to when he and Frost behaved as brothers, telling tales of their escapades over drinks late at night. Including nights when Sarah couldn't sleep and often roamed the halls of Chillton House, seeking some relief from her nightmares.

  Colleen's lips twitched unhappily as he frown deepened. "Then you know that she's what one would call a merry widow."

  It was well known throughout the ton that the navy captain's widow would bed just about any man with a pulse - and riches. And a title, of course. Even if Rayne hadn't been the woman's lover, Sarah would have still heard about the Widow Horsham because she had been Frost's lover as well for a brief time. Even now, Sarah didn't like to think too much about that particular woman.

  "Up and left her, he did," Colleen rambled on without waiting for a reply. "I know he couldn't marry the gel, of course, but it just ain't right what he did. Hardly the actions of a reputable gentleman."

  Not wishing to hear any more, Sarah pushed away from the dressing table, eliciting a yowl of protest from Taffy who had been dozing on her feet. The cat huffed and then wrapped her tail more firmly around herself as she settled back down to resume her nap.

  "It's also not right for a woman to use men to advance their own wealth and social standing as Widow Horsham does," Sarah snapped, making Colleen's eyes go round with disbelief. Sarah was rarely ever cross with her servants so when she was, they knew they had likely crossed a line. Still, from the mulish expression on the maid's face, she didn't seem to care. "The woman is no innocent and while Rayne might have left her, he had every right to do so. She knew what she was getting into when she took him into her bed."

  Colleen sniffed, her disgust plain to see. "You say that because you care for the man, too."

  Turning to face her maid, Sarah shook her head, resolved to stand firm in her defense of Rayne. Not that it was any of the maid's business, but Colleen had been more friend than servant over the years. "No. I say that because I know Rayne very well. Perhaps better than just about anyone else. And I am certain that if he left Widow Horsham, then she knew well in advance that he was leaving her bed." It was unseemly that Sarah knew even that much, of course, but being the eldest sister often times meant that she overheard things she should not. Especially late at night. "Lord Raynecourt might leave a trail of broken hearts in his wake, but he is always honest about his intentions." Of that she was certain. Rayne loved women. He did not lie to them.

  "If you say so, my lady." It was clear from her expression that Colleen didn't care for either Rayne or Sarah's defense of him, but she also knew better than to argue the point further.

  "I do." In fact, before they both came of age, there had been very little that Rayne kept from Sarah. In many ways, he had treated her more like a brother rather than a sister. Thought to be fair, she had been far more hoydenish in her ways back then, preferring breeches to dresses and running free with Frost and his friends, even though she was younger than they. Back then, Frost would have given Sarah anything she asked for, no matter how improper. In many ways, he still did. That included allowing her to tag along after his rather motley group of friends.

  "Now there shall be no more discussion regarding the matter. Lord Raynecourt is a guest in this home and is serving as my protector in my brother's absence. Is that understood?" Sarah rarely took such a firm hand with servants, but in this case, Sarah felt that Colleen would likely push the issue if allowed.

  Colleen's expression was sour but she nodded in affirmation. "Understood, miss."

  With a sharp nod, Sarah scooped up a small golden bracelet from her dressing table. "Excellent. Now I am off to have dinner with my betrothed. And I shall not hear another word about it."

  As she exited her chambers, Sarah could still hear Colleen's grumbles of protest but she paid them no mind. So her maid didn't care for Rayne because he had thrown over her friend's employer. Sarah wasn't surprised Rayne had left the woman. No one would be. He didn't stay with any woman long. Everyone knew this.

  Rayne wouldn't stay with her long either, even though this wasn't really an actual romance or betrothal. When he departed Hallowby in a little over a week's time, it would be perfectly in keeping with his reputation. Though they hadn't really discussed it, Sarah was certain that he would be the one to cry off, leaving her as yet another sympathetic victim of the Earl of Heartbreak. It all fit together so perfectly. Just as Rayne had planned.

  Except that when he left, he would likely also take Sarah's heart with him. Again. His departure would also likely seal her future as a spinster because she could not imagine spending her life with any man who wasn't Rayne. Rayne would understand her...quirks. Another man likely would not.

  However, she made a silent vow not to dwell upon the matter and instead did her best to paste a happy smile on her face as she made her way down the spiraling, hand-carved grand staircase that was one of Hallowby's most notable features. Made of carved maple and cherry wood, the staircase was designed to look like a spiraling version of the night sky. Cascades of twinkling stars set with gold leaf danced along the sides while the spindles resembled shooting stars and the back of each steps was decorated with yet more stars and the occasional crescent moon set with inlaid silver. With the early evening light spilling in from the rose window soaring high over the entrance, delicate patterns of deep blue and rosy blush danced across the highly polished wood, making it seem as if the staircase had come alive, the twisting, winding swirls along the bottom of the stairs making the entire scene appear to pulse with life.

  When she left Hallowby for the final time next summer, Sarah knew she would miss the Celestial Staircase most of all. There was nothing else like it in all of England. At least that she knew of. Or perhaps these stairs were just one of many things that she would miss when she no longer called Hallowby Grange her summer home. At the thought, a knot formed in her chest, but she did her best to remain strong. She had chosen this course for her life and she would see it through.

  She would also not allow the future to intrude upon the present. Instead, she would enjoy the gift of time she had been given.

  So she took her time as she descended the stairs, careful to be mindful of Toffee who had decided to lope down the Celestial Staircase beside her mistress. Instead of rushing as she normally might,
instead Sarah took long moments to simply relish the feel of the carved wood beneath her fingertips. She savored the smell of the highly polished wood and remembered stolen moments from her youth when she and Frost and her sisters had used the grand stairway as their own fantasy playground.

  "You are exquisite. A goddess come to Earth for us mere morals to gape at in wonder." Rayne's deeply seductive voice floated up to Sarah from his position at the bottom of the staircase and for a moment, she allowed herself to pretend that he meant every word.

  "And you are a rogue as always," she teased as she made her way to the bottom step. She paused while Toffee continued on down the long hallway to the left, likely in search of a way to the kitchens and Mrs. Dowdy's never-ending supply of warm milk and other treats. "Still, thank you. I appreciate the compliment. Even though you are lying."

  As he offered her his arm, Rayne frowned. "I am not lying. I do not lie. Especially not to you." He stopped and placed his hand over hers. Beneath her gloved palm, she could feel the clench of his powerful muscles and wondered what they might feel like wrapped around her. She so longed to know. "You are lovely, Sarah. Truly."

  Now she felt herself blush and wished like the devil she could stop the flush from creeping up her face. It would not do to let Rayne know his words had affected her so. They were merely pretending. Well, he was anyway. He did not need to know that she was not. "Thank you, Rayne. I did not mean to accuse you falsely."

  "I know." He gave her that same lopsided grin that made him appear sixteen again instead of the thirty that he was. "And I know I deserved that. I am rather free with my compliments."

  "That is not a bad thing," Sarah said softly and she found the words sticking a bit in her throat. "Better for a man to be kind than to be cruel." Afraid she had said too much, she looked up, worried that he might be eyeing her suspiciously. Instead, he was eyeing the pearl pendant she wore and she fingered it self-consciously. "I thought it would be acceptable to wear the piece since we are pretending to be betrothed."

  This time when Rayne smiled, there was no dashing lord in his expression but once more, a glimpse of the boy Sarah remembered. "I am surprised you kept it after all this time. You have far more stunning jewels these days, I am certain." His words were soft and laced with a depth of emotion she wasn't certain she had heard from him before.

  Around them, the light from the rose window shifted and changed, dancing new patterns of colors across the floor as the sun sank lower in the sky. The air seemed to grow thicker and the still-oppressive heat shimmered in the dim hallway. For this moment, they were alone. And Sarah felt very bold indeed. Far bolder than she had been with Rayne in years.

  Because they were pretending. Because words spoken now would not seem quite so real. Because she could tell the truth and yet hide behind the lie at the same time.

  "It was your gift to me in a time when I needed it most." Her fingertips stroked the pearl and she watched him swallow hard as she so. Not as unaffected as he would like to pretend, then. Perhaps these feelings went both ways after all. "Mama wasn't speaking to me because I had refused to wed Lord Hailings and Frost was having a difficult time convincing her that it needed to be my choice and mine alone. Not hers. Everything was tense. Awkward."

  "And here I came, this scholarly rogue ambling back into your family with tales of the Far East and trinkets for everyone." The air around them seemed to shimmer and time slowed to a stop as he reached out to stroke his own thick finger over the single, large black pearl that dangled from a golden chain around her neck before venturing lower towards the shadowed valley between her breasts. He stopped just before his finger would have meandered into forbidden territory and instead he fingered the blue silk on the bodice of her gown. "And this particular gift for you, no matter that it was completely inappropriate."

  Sarah swallowed hard, the heat from his finger spreading across her chest even though he had barely touched her. "I didn't care. I loved it. Just as much as I loved your tales of the Orient. It was a part of you I could keep with me when I needed a friend the most."

  He raised an eyebrow incredulously. "And I didn't bore you with those tales? Not even once? For I did everyone else." Something hot and needy flickered in his amber gaze just then.

  "I am never bored with your tales, Rayne. I couldn't be." Sarah's voice was so low and breathless that she didn't even recognize it as her own. "Rather, I found your stories fascinating. I always have. Even when I was a little girl. So exotic and mysterious. So wonderful and yet so far away. They provided a glimpse of a world that I longed to see. I could never be bored with so precious of a gift as that." The two of them were so close now that she could feel the heat of his body, even though he was dressed so very properly in his exquisitely cut eveningwear. She could smell him as well, that peculiar scent of mint and something vaguely spicy that was unique to him. She inhaled deeply, unable to stop herself.

  She saw Rayne's own breath catch in his chest at her actions and once more, she wondered how one-sided this attraction truly was. Not very, she was quickly coming to suspect. Good. That was very good. It would make her seduction of him so much easier. Provided she was brave enough to try.

  "You are one of the few then." His own voice was low and rough. "You see the scholar in me and not the rogue. I should thank you for that." His eyes were aflame now, heat and something more mixing within their seductive depths. There was desire in them as well. Sarah didn't know much about such things, but she could recognize the emotion when she saw it.

  "I have always seen all of you, Rayne," she whispered softly as she reached out to place her other hand on his chest. She felt the hard beating of his heart beneath her palm and knew that he was just as affected as she. "Not just the parts you wish for people to see."

  He was going to kiss her. She knew it. Sarah could feel her pulse thrumming through her veins, her heart beating wildly in her chest. This kiss would be just for them. No prying eyes. No audience. And she would know that he meant it, that this was more than just play-acting to him.

  "Then you alone are unique in that, my dear Sarah." His voice, too, was barely more than a whisper. "For no one sees me as I truly am. No one. Not even my family."

  There was pain contained within his words and Sarah reached up to cup his cheek in her gloved hand. "I see you, Brook. I always have."

  Before she could touch him, however, a bell sounded from somewhere deep within Hallowby, summoning the two of them to dinner. Then, a moment later, it sounded again. How long had the bell been ringing? Sarah honestly had no idea.

  What she did know was that the moment between her and Rayne was shattered. She wanted to cry out in frustration, but that would not be wise. Not yet. There was time. She simply needed to be patient. As long as she did not go out of her mind with unrequited desire first, however.

  Blinking his eyes, Rayne pulled back abruptly, the magical spell that had been weaving its way around them broken. "We had better go in to dinner." He stepped back and cleared his throat, and immediately Sarah missed the close heat of him. "Else Wilson will come looking for us to give us a proper scolding."

  And they would be found together. Closer than they should be. So close the servants would be unable to ignore what they had seen. None of those things were said, but they were implied in Rayne's words.

  "We wouldn't want that, now would we?" Sarah shook her head, doing her best to pull herself from the dream-like world she had inhabited only moments ago. "Dinner, then?" She did her best to appear perky and yet unaffected at the same time, even though her blood was still pounding in her veins and her knees felt as wobbly as Mrs. Dowdy's best currant jelly.

  "Dinner." When Rayne said the word, it was strangely flat and emotionless. He did still offer her his arm and led her into the dinning room in silence. In that moment, Sarah would have given anything to go back to the way things had been between them only moments before - passionate and heated. Because then she could pretend that she wasn't the only one in this false betrotha
l with feelings. She could pretend that Rayne cared for her as well. She could pretend that he wanted her and that she wasn't just another woman in the long line he had seduced into falling in love with him over the years.

  Because Sarah was in love with him. And she always had been. For her, this wasn't pretending. This was real and true. And it hurt just as much as she always imagined that it would.

  Chapter Seven

  Dinner was an excruciating affair. At least it was for Rayne anyway. He could not speak for Sarah but he hoped that she might say the same. At least then he would not be in this misery alone. A misery that had extended through dinner and had carried over into the secluded side parlor where they were both indulging in an after-dinner drink.

  They had been so close in the hallway, though close to what he couldn't say. Kissing her again? Certainly. That had been uppermost in his mind. Beyond that? A stolen caress perhaps? Or more if she would allow it. How much more? He didn't know. How far was he willing to take this charade? Was it even a charade any longer? In his mind, it was not, but again, he could not speak for Sarah. Had it ever been a charade? Or was this simply his way of having a taste of the paradise that he knew could never be his?

  That last one was likely the most accurate reasoning that had flitted through his mind as they dined in relative silence. He desired Sarah. He had since she was a young girl of eighteen and he a randy young man of three and twenty. Even now, sitting here across from her in the formal "evening" parlor, he could still recall that night so long ago - the night he had returned from his first visit to Italy to find that the little girl he had known most of his life had blossomed into a breath-taking young woman in his absence - and how Frost had all but bellowed about no friend of his even getting close enough to Sarah to hold her hand for a dance now that she had officially made her debut.