Courting A Sinful Stranger: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Emily Honeyfield

  Arthur smiled grimly. Morgan thought it was that easy. That he could encounter Lady Sarah and simply brush it aside.

  But he knew in his heart that it wouldn’t be that easy. That if he saw her again, the fierce longing might overtake him entirely, causing him to act rashly.

  He stared desolately at the table. Perhaps leaving the district was the only option, after all.

  Chapter 15

  Sarah kept a firm grip on Mary’s arm as they walked slowly into the grand ballroom. James was behind them both, walking so close that Sarah couldn’t help glancing back at him with an irritated shudder. Was he determined to be her shadow for the entire evening?

  You will have to get used to it, Sarah. You have agreed to become his wife. His property. Men are possessive of what they own.

  She took a deep breath. It was all so terribly annoying. She didn’t want James Marcus following her around like a puppy. Was this what it was going to be like forever if she did indeed follow through on her word and marry him?

  As soon as they entered the room, Mary was whisked away to dance by an eager gentleman, Mr. Peter Reed. Sarah was left alone with James, who glowered at any gentleman who even looked like he might approach her to dance, scaring them away entirely. Sarah suppressed another shudder of irritation.

  It wasn’t as if she wanted to put any of the gentlemen on her dance card. It was just the fact that it seemed as if she had no choice in the matter now. James had claimed her. They might not have announced it to the world yet, but he was acting differently towards her.

  He doesn’t even love me, she thought despairingly. I am throwing myself away – sacrificing my freedom – for someone who would never have looked at me twice if my father hadn’t put the idea into his head.

  The thought was so depressing that her heart almost plummeted to the floor.

  James turned to her. “You seem out of sorts, Sarah,” he said slowly, frowning. “You barely spoke in the carriage on the way here and not a peep since.” He paused, “You are not having second thoughts about our betrothal?”

  Sarah sighed heavily. “I do not know, James,” she replied, biting her lip. “You are an honourable gentleman and any lady would be proud to be your wife.” She took a deep, ragged breath. “But I have trouble with the idea of marrying someone who does not truly love me, and whom I do not truly love. I simply cannot resolve it in my mind.”

  James’s frown deepened. “We have already spoken of this,” he said. “I thought that you had agreed that it was for the best. You require a husband of means to support yourself and your mother after your father passes. Your parents are eager for the match. Is it still the thought of Lord Nordarken that stops you fully committing to me?” He paused, looking at her carefully. “The infatuation with him will pass. You barely know the fellow, after all.”

  Sarah looked away, across the dancefloor, at the twirling ladies and gentlemen. They were dancing a quadrille, not a waltz, but she could not stop picturing herself and the Viscount Nordarken as they had been on the floor that night when they had donned masquerade masks and he had so unexpectedly swept her away, holding her so close and whispering indecent things into her ear.

  She had been bored and restless and it was as if God above had answered her prayers when she had stepped into his path. She had never known such delicious excitement before. It was as if she was truly coming alive for the first time. As if she was emerging from a cocoon.

  She glanced back at James. He was respectable and decent, but he didn’t excite her in that way at all. Must she truly spend her entire life with a man when there was no frisson of desire between them? It would be like retreating back into that cocoon. A slow death of her very self – a self that she was only just discovering.

  “You may say it is only infatuation,” she said slowly, blinking back tears, “and perhaps you are right. But I am in the grip of it, James, and cannot seem to shake it.” She shuddered. “It just feels wrong to agree to marry someone who I do not have such deep feelings for. A betrayal of my very self.”

  A shadow passed over James’s face and his lips tightened. Something in what she had said had struck a chord within him. But within seconds it had passed, and he had control of himself again, his face bland.

  “We should not indulge such feelings, where marriage is concerned,” he said primly. “Marriage is an alliance and a pragmatic matter, Sarah. It is about status, the preservation and acquisition of wealth, and the begetting of an heir.” He fixed her with a sharp look. “That is all.”

  “You make it sound as exciting as watching paint dry,” she retorted, stung.

  His mouth twitched. “I think most people’s marriages are not much more exciting than that. But they are still content because they have everything that they need in life.” He paused. “I do not know where you have got the notion that marriage was supposed to be exciting, Sarah. It is as dull as houses most of the time…which is as it should be. One marries for security, not pleasure.”

  “Must it be that way?” she asked, her eyes flashing. “Why cannot people of our station marry for love and security? Why must it be a choice between either?”

  James sighed. “I forget that you are still so very young. Barely out of your leading straps…”

  “Do not patronise me, James,” she retorted. “I might be young, but I am fully cognisant. And I truly cannot abide a gentleman who believes a lady cannot have an informed opinion because of her sex.”

  James laughed faintly. “I apologise if I have offended you, My Lady. It was not my intention.”

  Sarah fluttered her fan in front of her face a bit wildly. Everything was irritating her. And why was it so very stuffy in this room?

  Suddenly, her heart stopped beating. For standing across the ballroom, gazing around impassively with a slightly bored expression on his face, was the Lord Nordarken.

  ***

  She couldn’t seem to drag her eyes away from him, no matter how hard she tried. He still hadn’t seen her. She had time to turn away, retreat to another room, escape him before he became aware of her. But her feet were rooted to the ground and she simply couldn’t move.

  Abruptly, he turned his face towards her, and their eyes connected.

  Sarah’s heart lurched. It was as if he was reaching out to her across the ballroom; as if some invisible tentacle was pulling them towards one another. She saw his eyes widen with recognition and desire. Their last embarrassing encounter at the theatre seemed to melt away into nothing, as if it had never even occurred.

  The feeling between them was as strong as it ever was.

  Her face flushed, recalling her dream of lying in his arms and the heat he had aroused within her. The heat that had led to that bewildering explosion of sensation that had caused her to cry out in her sleep and roused the maid to her bedside. Her colour deepened at the very thought of it.

  His eyes flickered to her side. He had seen James. A look passed over his face, almost of sorrow.

  Sarah couldn’t help it. She simply must be near him again. Speak with him. Even if it was just for a short moment. Otherwise, she would surely die.

  “James,” she said, her voice high and breathless, as she turned back to him, “I find I am rather thirsty. Would you mind getting me a drink?”

  “Of course,” he said politely, moving away from her side and melting into the crowd.

  She took a deep breath. This was her chance. It might be her only chance.

  She walked slowly towards him, feeling as if she were floating in a dream.

  ***

  He watched her approaching him, his brown eyes alight with desire. When she was close, he leant down and whispered into her ear.

  “The gazebo at the end of the garden,” he said, in a deep voice, causing her to shudder. “I shall follow you.”

  She nodded, drifting away. Her heart was thudding painfully in her chest at being in such close proximity to him, even for the shortest moment.

  The evening was mild when she walked t
hrough the French doors and out into the garden. A slight breeze lifted the stray curls around her face and for a second she closed her eyes, relishing the feeling. But then she took a deep breath, opening them again, and heading down the path. She had never wandered these grounds at the Parkdale mansion before, but he had told her there was a gazebo at the end of them, so she would find it.

  The sound of chatter and laughter receded as she kept walking. She was alone now. A full creamy moon was her only lantern, shedding a pearlescent light to guide her way.

  The only sound was the beat of her hammering heart. She was taking a very great risk doing this. She had sent James away to get her a drink and he would be looking for her. She didn’t have very long before she would surely be discovered. Why was she indulging in this madness?

  But she knew the answer to that question. She knew it very well.

  Eventually, she reached the gazebo. Slowly, she sat down on a seat beneath its wooden arched roof. And now all she could do was wait. It seemed an eternity before she heard footsteps softly thudding on the path, approaching her.

  Hastily she stood up, smoothing down her gown with trembling hands. She was sweating. She could feel it dripping down her neck. She turned around, taking a deep breath, facing him. He stopped abruptly, gazing at her.

  “You came,” he said slowly. “I was not sure if you would or not.”

  She tried to smile. “I was not sure if I should or not. But it seemed that I was compelled.”

  He smiled crookedly. “It seems that we are both compelled…Lady Sarah.”

  She almost wept to hear him calling her by her real name. A snippet of her dream about him flashed vividly into her mind. The part where she had begged him to say her name and he had declared that he did not know it.

  He knew it now.

  “The game is over,” she whispered, her heart beating fast. “I am no longer an opera singer, or a fortune teller, or anything else besides.” She took a deep, ragged breath. “I am just me.”

  He stepped forward so that he was very close, gazing down at her. “That is more than enough for me.”

  She kept gazing up at him studying the planes of his face. Every angle and every nuance. With sorrow, she knew she was committing it to memory. Perhaps she would spend the rest of her life replaying this moment over and over in her mind. Recapturing his face. She was etching it onto her heart for eternity.

  “I am sorry,” he said, in a halting voice. “Sorry for all the trouble I have caused you. It was never my intention to do so.”

  Sarah nodded. “Thank you. But there is no need to apologise.” She took another deep breath. “I went into this with my eyes wide open, Lord Nordarken. You did not lead me astray, I do assure you.”

  He smiled faintly, not saying anything. Slowly, he reached out with one hand, tracing a finger down the line of her face.

  She gasped inwardly. It felt like a trail of fire. As if her skin was being scorched.

  “You are truly beautiful, Lady Sarah Rubyton,” he whispered, his brown eyes glittering in the darkness. “More than any widow, or opera singer, or fortune teller combined. More than anyone in this world.”

  Chapter 16

  Sarah basked in his words as if they were manna from heaven. He thought her beautiful. He thought her beautiful just the way that she was, without playing any game. Her breath caught in her throat as she gazed at him, so overcome with emotion that she simply could not speak for a moment.

  “It was only because I found you so beautiful and fascinating,” he continued. “You stepped into my path at that ball and I simply could not help myself.” He paused. “But you are a lady and I should never have played with your virtue in such a way. You may say that I did not lead you astray, but you are young. And I should have known better.”

  She gazed up at him, her eyes shining with tears. “You are the most exciting thing that has ever happened to me,” she whispered. “Do you know how dull it is in Bath? I swear that I was almost about to perish from boredom before you swept me onto that ballroom floor.”

  He laughed softly. “I would never wish for you to die of such a thing.”

  She smiled. “No. It would be most tedious.” She was silent for a moment. “They are wanting me to marry him, you know. James, the Earl of Tolmere, who almost flayed you alive at the theatre the other night.”

  He went very still. “He did seem very protective of you.” He paused, “Do you know him well then?”

  Sarah sighed. “I have known him since I was young. His younger sister is my best friend. We live on neighbouring properties.” She hesitated, gazing at him entreatingly. “I do not love him like that. I do not wish to marry him at all.”

  Lord Nordarken was silent, but she could almost feel him wrestling with some strong emotion as if with a snake in the dark.

  “He has proposed to me,” she continued, her face twisting. “I have given my assent, but I entreated him to keep it quiet. At least for a little while.”

  “Why have you given your assent if you have no wish to marry him?” His voice was heavy with emotion.

  “Because I feel as if I have no choice,” she blurted out. “My parents are pressuring me to marry, insisting that I must do my duty. They approve of James above all others.” She took a deep breath, “He is a good choice. I cannot deny it. He is titled, rich, kind and we are already friends. I do not have one good reason not to wish to marry him…”

  “Except perhaps your heart,” he said, in a quiet voice. “There is always that.”

  “Yes,” she said, blinking rapidly, “my heart. But no one seems to pay it much attention or think it so very important, so I suppose I must follow suit.” Her face twisted again. “My parents do not want me to see you again, Lord Nordarken.”

  “Ah,” he said, looking sad. “That old scandal, it seems. I only just heard of it.”

  “I had never heard of it before, either,” said Sarah, sighing heavily. “To think, my dear mama inspiring such passion that your father was willing to duel for her…!”

  He laughed softly. “To think of my dear father impassioned enough to do such a thing,” he said dryly. “But I suppose we should not laugh so very much. They were young once, even if it seems a lifetime ago.”

  She laughed with him for a moment. But then she abruptly sobered.

  “They are serious about it,” she whispered. “They are holding a grudge against your father. Another reason why I simply cannot see you any longer.”

  He looked so sad that she almost recanted her words. If only it were not so complicated. If only it was possible to continue to see him. But then she pulled herself up. He had never been seriously courting her anyway.

  “So,” he said slowly, taking both her hands in his, “it seems that our game is at an end, Lady Sarah. It pains me more than I can say.” He paused, his eyes raking over her. “You have haunted my dreams and every waking moment. I have been so afire for you…”

  Slowly, he leant down, taking her lips in his own. She gasped, winding her arms around his neck. It felt as if she were coming home. The only home that she had ever wanted.

  For a moment he kissed her sweetly, almost chastely. A farewell kiss. A kiss filled with remorse. But suddenly, like an ember that had suddenly been caught by the wind, the deep desire between them flared to life. The kiss deepened. She clung to him, pulling him closer as he groaned with need, clutching her tightly.

  It was just like her dream. Only this time, it was real. She was truly in his arms again. She never wanted him to let her go.