The Earl of Heartbreak

by Bethany M. Sefchick

  Nodding, Sarah bit her lip, knowing what was coming next - and not protesting as strenuously as she might have. "I would."

  "Then please know that I desire more for you than a life of exile in the north. More over, you deserve more than the life of a spinster. You deserve the glitter of London and the finest gowns of silk and the most precious of jewels. You deserve to live the life of the true lady that you are. You should have a title and all of the power and wealth that comes along with it." He paused and drew in a deep breath. "I would offer all of that to you and more, Sarah. I would offer you the world. All you have to do is agree to become my wife. Say the word and we can be wed immediately." He looked around. "This should be your ball. Not your sister in law's."

  Sarah had known this offer was coming. She had known it from the moment she accepted Lansdale's offer to waltz. A part of her was flattered and, had she not indulged in bedsport with Rayne, she might have seriously considered taking the marquess up on his generous offer. However, she had allowed Rayne to bed her and she had given him her heart, even if he had not made the same offer in return. To accept a proposal from this man felt wrong, even though logically, it made the most sense for everyone involved. Even Rayne.

  "Lord Lansdale..."

  "Daniel. Please. Even if you say no, I do wish you would address me by my Christian name. I prefer it, actually."

  Sarah nodded. "Very well. Daniel, please know that I am flattered. And had your offer come even a few weeks ago, I might well have accepted. You are kind and handsome and everything that a woman could dream of in a husband."

  "But I am not Raynecourt," he finished for her.

  Dimly, Sarah became aware that they had stopped dancing and were now on the edge of the ballroom. As discreetly as possible, she tugged the marquess towards the terrace and behind a curtain. "I have...lain with him. I am not the innocent you imagine me to be."

  Lansdale shook his head. "I do not care. I do not require innocence in a wife. I myself am not innocent and to me, it seems rather wrong to demand the same of my future bride."

  "Then you are rare among men in that regard." Sarah wanted to say yes to this man. He was kind and good and perfect - just not perfect for her, unfortunately. In fact, there was a part of her that was desperate to say yes to what Daniel was offering. And had she not been with Rayne, she might have done just that. Had she met Daniel only a few short weeks ago, she might have taken his offer and rejoiced. Yet now that she knew how wonderful passion could be with Rayne, she could not bring herself to accept Daniel's offer. Even though she knew that she should.

  In the darkness afforded by the curtain, Daniel reached out and took her hand. "Sarah, I have said this to Lord Raynecourt and I shall say the same to you. I cannot offer you love. My heart was destroyed long ago and there is nothing left of it to give. Though if I could give it away, it would be to you. In turn, I also know that you cannot give your heart to me, for it is already claimed by the earl, whether he wishes to have it or not. However, I also know of your quandary. I am offering you a way out if you want it, another option that will not force you into spinsterhood if you feel that you cannot have the earl as your husband."

  "I..." Sarah had no idea what to say. She had simply assumed that Daniel believed this could be a love match. To know otherwise put a decidedly different spin on the matter. Could she be happy with Daniel, even knowing they would never love one another the way she loved Rayne? Could she be happy without Rayne? She did not know. In fact, she likely knew and understood less now than she had the day she had set out from London towards Hallowby.

  She was also extremely aware that for most women, the notion of happiness in a marriage was never even a consideration. Most women would not hesitate for a moment if presented with an offer such as the one the marquess had just made to her.

  Lansdale shook his head. "Please. You do not have to answer now. All I ask is that you think about my offer. Do not dismiss me out of hand. Please. We could be good together, you and I."

  "I...I am not perfect." Sarah lowered her eyes. If she was going to consider this, even for a moment, she had to tell Daniel the truth. "My body is flawed, far more than most men would tolerate. Scarred. If you are to sire an heir by me, you would...need to know that." Even admitting that much made her shake with fear and shame.

  "It does not matter to me in the least. I do not care, not so long as you have a good heart, which you do." Reaching out, Daniel tipped her chin up with his finger. "None of us are perfect, Sarah. No matter how much Society would have us believe otherwise. I certainly am not."

  "You are close." She smiled at him, though she knew it was a bit on the wobbly side. "Especially when you have made such a tempting offer and I have the temerity to ask for time to consider it."

  Slowly, he stroked his thumb over her chin and then over her lips. "I know you are in love with another. I also know that it is likely your family will not approve of such a match. As do you. I am simply providing you with another choice. And while I must eventually choose a bride, that day does not have to be today. Or even this week." He ran the pad of his thumb over her lips again and yet, she could see from his eyes that he felt nothing other than a bit of obvious physical attraction. Just as she did. "You are beautiful, smart and kind, and any man would be lucky to have you as his bride. We are also friends and many a marriage has been built on far less than that. I cannot promise you grand passion or true love, Sarah, but I can promise to please you and, in time, a form of love might grow between us. I also offer you my name, my title, and my wealth."

  "Your offer is more than generous." Sarah was conflicted. He was offering her so much but if there was even one small chance of a future with Rayne, she felt as if she had to take it. Even if he had spoken hardly a word to her since that day in Frost's study. "More than I deserve."

  "And it will stand until you tell me no," Daniel assured her. His gaze flicked to the direction of the ballroom. "But first, go and see your earl. If you can find a way to make things work between you, then do so. Love is too precious and rare of a thing to squander. However if you find that you cannot come to an agreement, then know that I will give you all that I can."

  At that, Sarah's heart swelled with a kind of love for this man, though she knew it was nothing more than the love of a friend. She wished it could be more, but it was not. And never would be.

  Rising up on her tiptoes, she placed a soft, delicate kiss on Daniel's lips. "Thank you. For everything. And I shall think upon your offer. I promise."

  She was surprised when Daniel pulled her close and kissed her back. There was no love in his kiss, nor passion. But there was desire. She could feel his hard length pressing into her stomach and she knew than that, at the very least, their marriage would bear children. For he did desire her enough to bed her. For some reason, that made her all the more confused rather than less. Daniel's lips were soft and warm and he tasted faintly of oranges and for a brief moment, she could imagine a life with him, but then it was gone, replaced by an image of Rayne, hurt and alone seeing her wed to someone else.

  When he finally pulled away, Daniel smiled down at her, not releasing her immediately as Sarah thought he might. "That is a taste of what we could have. Think upon it, Sarah. I will wait, but not forever." He released her and immediately, she missed his warmth, even though the night was already far too warm for her comfort.

  She was stirred. She would not lie and claim otherwise. Was it the same as the all-consuming passion that she felt for Rayne? No, it was not. She was certain of that much. It was not horrible either, though, and once more, she could see a faint vision of a future with Daniel. It would not be a grand passion but it would be good. And her family would approve. Sometimes, she knew, one could not always have what they wanted. No matter how much they wanted it.

  "I will seriously consider your proposition. I promise," Sarah all but sighed, her lips still tingling a bit, making her feel all the more disloyal to Rayne. If she chose Daniel, would she ever stop feeling
that way? Once more, there was no immediate answer.

  "That is all I can ask." He gave her hand a small squeeze.

  Then he turned and was gone, leaving Sarah to watch his retreating back, her thoughts awhirl with thoughts and emotions, all warring for dominance in her mind.

  Just then, she heard a small noise behind her and she whirled around, only to see Rayne standing on the terrace just beyond. The expression on his face indicated that he had witnessed the entire exchange between her and Daniel.

  "Rayne!" Sarah cried, reaching for him even though he was already moving away from her. "Wait! Please! Let me explain."

  It was too late. He was gone, disappearing into the night with a growl that sounded almost feral. His expression had been one of fury mixed with disappointment and hurt. And anger. There had been plenty of anger, as well.

  She had said that she loved him. Now she was kissing another man. She could understand how that might appear. Especially to a man like Rayne who had been hurt so often and used false bravery to cover up that pain. His world had been shattered when his father had passed when Rayne had been but a child. His mother, for all of her current vivacity, had retreated into herself for a time, leaving her young son to fend for himself. Rayne now expected everyone to leave him eventually. Better to be the one to leave than to be hurt when the other person left.

  In dallying with Daniel as she had, Sarah had been no better.

  Standing there watching him go, Sarah wondered if her choice had already been made for her. She also wondered how she should proceed if it had. Or if she had just ruined her chances with the only man she had ever loved.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Anger, hot and strong, coursed through Rayne as he blindly roamed the grounds of Hallowby. He was spoiling for a fight at the moment, so God help whomever came across him first. He was likely to pummel them into dust and then keep right on going until his mind was blank.

  How could she?

  How could she even think of kissing another man when less than a day before, she had been professing her love to him. True, he had not reciprocated, but that did not mean he didn't feel the same. He simply had been left speechless by her words. She hadn't even really given him a chance to respond! And she, in turn, clearly thought so little of him that she didn't care to even give him time to process her words. Instead, she had kissed the first man whom she stumbled across, as if Rayne didn't matter.

  Yet through his anger, he knew that was not the entire truth. Actually, he didn't know what he had just witnessed. Or even why it had transpired.

  Once the wedding ball had begun, Rayne had hidden in the library for a time, planning on getting so foxed that he wouldn't even be able to stand up by the time the evening was through. His time with Sarah was over and the pain cut him to the quick. He had imagined her dancing with all manner of different men, her dark curls shining in the candlelight as she moved across the ballroom floor, light as a feather. Just as she had done back at Chillton House.

  Except that Rayne was no coward, and had decided that he would not give up Sarah without a fight. He desired her. He wished to marry her. She was the only woman he had ever wanted. He was not simply going to let her go just because her disapproving brother showed up.

  So Rayne had pulled himself together and emerged into the ballroom - only to witness Sarah disappear behind one of the heavy red curtains that lined the edge of the ballroom near the terrace doors.

  He had been enraged. He had been ready to lay the marquess out in the middle of the ball and be done with things. He had also been hurt. Very, very hurt. So hurt that he almost could not breathe.

  Still, he could not stay away and had ventured around the outside of the house to approach from the direction of the terrace, thinking that certainly he could not have witnessed Sarah sneaking out of the ball with Lord Lansdale. After all, she was not that sort of lady. Or he hadn't thought she was, anyway.

  The kiss between the two of them was the final straw and Rayne had stumbled blindly into the night rather than watching the woman he loved throw herself at the most perfect man Rayne had ever encountered. He was not into self-punishment.

  So he had done what he always did when faced with the possibility of losing someone he cared for. He ran. It was his natural reaction. If he was not around when they tired of him, then he could not be hurt. It was as simple as that.

  Except that tonight, Rayne was already hurt and he wasn't certain this wound would ever heal.

  He wasn't certain how long he had wandered, only that he had eventually found himself back at the old summerhouse. For some reason, it was open and he had wandered inside. Numbly, he had begun lighting the candles that had been left from the week before. Some of them had burned to nubs but others flickered and caught, leaving a slightly nightmarish version of his seductive fantasy behind. It only seemed appropriate.

  Now he was rather wishing he had thought to bring some alcoholic refreshment with him as he stared at the wide, sweeping room where he had taken Sarah's innocence and found the greatest pleasure of his life at the same time.

  "Brook."

  "Sarah." He had immediately stiffened when he heard her say his name. His real name and not the nickname he hid behind because it was easier than allowing anyone to see the man beneath.

  "I came to apologize. It was not what you think. With Lansdale, I mean."

  He could tell from the tone of her voice that she truly believed that it wasn't what he thought. How could it be anything else? She had been kissing a man! A man that wasn't him. She could call that interaction anything she liked, but it had still been a kiss. And suddenly, Rayne didn't care any longer. He didn't care if she was in love with another man, or if her words of love to him had been nothing more than an empty promise left over from their youth. All Rayne wanted was Sarah, and if he had to lie to himself to have her once again, then he would do just that.

  "Then what was it?" He refused to allow his voice to falter. Just as he refused to turn around and face her.

  "Good-bye." She swallowed. "He offered for me and I refused him. I don't love him. I love you. Please, Brook. You must believe me."

  He heard the shuffle of her slippers against the hard floor of the summerhouse before she moved to the carpet, a luxurious Persian rug he had brought back to England years ago. For her. All of the things here were for her. He claimed that he merely needed to store them for a time and Frost had never questioned him on the matter. The truth was, Rayne had bought these things for Sarah. So often she had wistfully remarked that she wished she could travel as well, particularly to Persia. So he had purchased these items and sent them here, hoping that one day she might see them - and realize how very much he loved her. All without him having to say the words. It had been foolish and stupid, but then he had never been particularly intelligent when it came to the more tender of emotions.

  Rayne wondered if Sarah had ever seen these items before that first night he brought her here. He doubted it. Either she or Frost would have mentioned it before if she had. Something in the general vicinity of his heart pinged when he realized he had been the first to show her such wonders. It changed nothing between them, of course, but it was still a nice thought.

  She placed her hand on his back, the merest whisper of a touch. "I don't want Lord Lansdale. I want you, Brook. I always have. It has only ever been you."

  Slowly, Rayne turned around. In the flickering candlelight, Sarah shimmered like a diamond in her silver gown, reminding him so very much of that first Holly Ball she had attended at Fieldown when she was only eighteen. Had it only been eight years ago? It seemed like another lifetime ago. Yet she was more breathtaking to him now than she had been then and would likely only become more so with age.

  Would he see her then? When she was old and gray? She said she loved him and a part of him believed that she did. But did she love him enough to defy her brother and marry him? Or would she, in the end, choose an easier path? A path that led to someone like Daniel Weston. Rayne
wouldn't blame her if she did.

  The impossibly perfect Lord Lansdale didn't have the troubled past Rayne did, as he leapt from woman to woman, unable to commit to any of them and afraid to even try. Lansdale didn't have the need to run, either, or to seek solace in dusty ruins in foreign lands rather than wait for the next person to leave him. For his mother to once more disappear back into her room and not emerge again for months - not even when her only son desperately need her. It had happened to Rayne once after all, so there was no reason to think that it would not again. No matter how many reassurances Rayne had otherwise.

  "You shouldn't want me." Rayne shrugged as he reached out to tuck a soft curl behind her ear. "We both knew this couldn't last. Your bother has made his position on friends courting you very clear. He will not tolerate a suit from me, and we both know it. I simply made the break before you were forced to do so."

  Sarah's eyes flashed emerald fire and the diamonds at her throat glittered, reminding Rayne once more that she was far more fearsome than she looked. He pitied the man who underestimated Lady Sarah Tillsbury - including him. "I don't care what Frost wants. I thought you didn't either. I thought you were ready to fight for me. For us. For a future with me."

  "I am tired of fighting, Sarah." Rayne was. More than he could find the words to say. He was tired of fighting against his nature, against his need to run before he was hurt. He was tired of being alone and fighting the loneliness that came with that sort of life.

  "I thought you cared for me." Rayne noticed Sarah was careful not to use the word love, for though she had uttered it to him before, he had never said as much to her. And he never would. To do so would leave him vulnerable to hurt and that was something he would not do. If Sarah hurt him, he would never recover.