Bert frowned. “What is it?”
“A letter of credit. My solicitor will give you the three hundred pounds I promised Sarah at the cottage. It is the best I can do. My father’s actions have left me strapped for cash at the moment.”
The sailor looked surprised. “You don’t have to do that.”
“A bargain was struck and I mean to honor it.”
Bert nodded, settling his hat back on his head. “Thank you, my lord.” He started for the door, pausing on the threshold. “For what it is worth, you’re a good man. The mistress is lucky she found you.”
Byron nodded. “I appreciate that, Bert.”
The sailor nodded. “Take care of her. If you break her heart, be warned, I will come back and knock your block off.”
Byron grinned as the man left. Loyalty was something he could appreciate.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sarah slid the lunch tray off her lap. She hadn't seen Byron since her embarrassing
breakdown the night before, choosing to have her meals instead in her room by herself. Her attention turned to the silver tray Mavis placed earlier on her bedside table. It was overflowing with calling cards from, she suspected, the who’s who of the ton. Since she had yet to order some calling cards of her own, she spent the majority of the morning penning thank you notes in response to the cards of congratulations and best wishes on her nuptials.
Stretching, she decided a quick stroll around the garden would be just the thing she needed before she finished her correspondence. After ringing for her maid she climbed out of bed and wandered to her wardrobe to choose a comfortable day dress. She decided on a bright simple and cheery carmine-colored dress.
“I think I shall go for a walk in the garden,” she informed the maid when the girl entered the room, “I can see from my window some of the roses are starting to bloom. It looks so nice outside.”
“It is a lovely day out,” her maid agreed, helping her dress. The girl rebraided her hair and then twisted it into a tidy knot at the base of her neck. “Do not forget your parasol,” she advised.
Sarah made a face but picked up the delicate sunshade. She made her way downstairs and out onto the veranda. The air was fresh and clean. Taking a deep breath, she inhaled the fragrant scent of the lilacs and roses in bloom. She wandered down the stone paths, admiring the many different types of flowers in the garden. Frowning she stopped at a weedy looking bed of herbs. Getting down on her knees she began to pluck the offending weeds from the damp soil unmindful of her dress.
Her mind wandered back to the previous evening. She was ashamed to have let Byron see her in her moment of weakness. surely he would want an explanation for her emotional breakdown and what would she tell him? To tell him she loved him but was torn between him and the children would only anger him. After all, he had already commanded she cut all ties with her former life.
The children needed her and Byron didn't. The children wanted her and Byron wanted nothing more than her body. Could she blame him for not loving her? He had been forced to marry her just as she had been forced to marry him. What was she going to do? She couldn't run back to the orphanage, because he would know where she was and come for her as he did before.
Sarah plucked the last weed from the herb bed and stood. With a satisfied sigh she wiped her hands on her skirt and turned back up the path towards the house. Stopping at the daisy bed that had an abundance of frilly white blooms, she picked an armload and carried them with her into the house. On her way up the stairs to her room she noticed an empty vase by the front door.
Taking a large handful of the flowers she set the rest down and began to arrange them in the vase. A long shadow fell across the floor where she crouched. She glanced up. Byron stood staring at her with a brooding look.
He extended his hand to help her up. “I see you are feeling better.”
Sarah ignored his hand and stood. “Yes, thank you.”
“What are you doing?”
“I pulled the weeds from the herb bed and saw the flowers. I thought to fill the vase.”
“I have a gardener to do those things.”
“I was bored,” she mumbled hiding her dirty hands behind her skirt.
“I think we should retire to my study so you can explain to me what happened here last night.”
She studied the tiles on the floor to avoid his gaze. “There is nothing to talk about.”
“I beg to differ.”
“I was simply overtired.”
Byron cupped her chin in his hand, tipping her face up to look at him. He searched her eyes for a moment. “If I have done something that troubles you, then I should be told. I am your husband and can right any wrongs as I see fit.”
Sarah steeled herself against his searching look. “Rest assured, my lord, if there was a wrong that I thought you would fix, I would tell you.”
He sighed and released her chin. “Very well. Since you are feeling better we shall be leaving for my country estate first thing in the morning for I have sold this decrepit old house to pay my creditors.”
Sarah caught her breath. “I do not wish to go!”
Byron fixed her with a cold stare. “We are leaving first thing in the morning,” he repeated. “If you are not ready to go by then or decide to do something foolish such as run away, I shall employ every man at my disposal to hunt you down. Then I will return you to Newgate where you will live out the rest of your days.”
Heedless of her shocked gasp he turned on his heel and marched down the hall to his study. He gave her one last scowl and entered the room. Sarah flinched as the door slammed shut behind him. She stared at it for a moment before going to pack for the journey.
When Sarah and her maid had everything packed into two trunks she penned a note to Bert to let him know she was leaving for the country. She placed inside the envelope, the sapphire stick pin she removed from Byron’s cravat the night she tended his wounds at the cottage. She hoped it would tide the orphanage over until she could find another way to raise funds. While her maid saw to it the message was delivered, Sarah requested a dinner tray sent up to her room. The last thing she wanted was to sit through an uncomfortable meal with her husband.
She was still awake when Byron retired to his room later that evening. She feigned sleep when door knob of the adjoining door turned. It opened. Soft foot falls crossed the carpet and paused at the side of her bed. Would he wake her? Did he expect her to allow him access to her bed? She concentrated on keeping her breathing deep and even. His fingers stroked her cheek, trailing down to trace the curve of her lower lip.
“I thought I knew what love was, until you stole my heart, highwaywoman. I love you.”
His finger ceased stroking, footsteps shuffled back across the carpet and the door clicked shut.
He loved her! Sarah wanted to leap from the bed, run after him and throw herself into his arms. Instead, she cried herself to sleep knowing she couldn't desert the children just because she had found her happily ever after.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Sarah sat in the sun on the soft grass. Her hand idly smoothed her yellow silk skirt across her lap as she watched Shadow frolic with Bacchus in the lush green pasture. The breeze plucked the fragrant white blossoms from the cherry tree within the confines of the pasture, sending them floating down around the two horses. Hugging her legs she rested her chin on her knees and sighed. It was a week since she arrived at Byron’s country estate and she had yet to come up with a way to provide for Dickie and the others. She considered asking Byron for the monthly allowance he had mentioned providing her, but was unwilling to bring it up due to their strained relationship. He had barely spoken to her since they arrived and kept confined to his study in the evenings until long after she was asleep.
The rattle of a carriage coming up the drive drew her attention away from the horses. She studied the coach-and-four bearing the Cobbett family crest as it rolled to a stop in front of the steps leading to the main house. The footman hop
ped down from the back and hurried around to open the door for the occupant inside.
Shading her eyes she peered closer as a small figure emerged from the interior. Recognition dawned on her and she scrambled to her feet and running to the carriage, tears of happiness streaming down her face. “Dickie!”
The boy turned with a smile and ran into her outstretched arms. “Mistress Sarah!”
Sarah hugged him close for a moment before she stepped back. “It is Lady Cobbett now, Dickie. What are you doing here? I am so happy to see you.”
Dickie stood up tall and gave her a large smile. “His lordship sent the carriage for me. He said you needed me.”
“Did he?” Sarah laughed. “Well he was right. I have missed you terribly.”
The boy looked embarrassed, but pleased.
“Ah, you have arrived safe and sound Master Dickie. No highwaymen befell you en route, I see.”
Sarah turned around at the sound of Byron’s voice. He was striding down the steps toward them, a teasing grin on his face. “Did you bring the documents from the king?”
The boy nodded and handed him a rolled up parchment. Byron broke the wax seal and unrolled the document. After scanning the contents for a moment, he let it roll back up before he passed it to Sarah.
Puzzled she took it and unrolled it. Her heart skipped a beat when she read the letter of ownership for a large warehouse in the country close to the outskirts of London. It seemed the building and a significant amount of land surrounding it had been purchased by Byron Cobbett and given to the ‘Wellington Children’s Society’, which she had never heard of. A note was included showing a large amount of money being donated by the king himself to the society. Sarah looked at Byron for an explanation.
He smiled at her, but his eyes remained guarded. “Does it please you?”
She reread the documents. “I am not sure I understand.”
“I traded my townhouse for the old warehouse. I had it put in your name and the king generously donated the money to renovate it into a suitable orphanage capable of housing up to sixty children. The work should be completed by the end of the summer. As well, the Ladies’ Society has raised enough money to pay Bert, Ann and six others of their choosing to help with running of the place. I also ordered a number of my livestock to be moved there into the barn after it has been repaired. Hopefully, the place will be able to raise and supply most of the food they might need in order to be self-sufficient,” Byron explained.
Sarah stared at him in disbelief as his generosity began to sink in. “You did all this for the children?”
Byron shrugged. “I thought it would make you happy. I thought then you would want to stay with me, because I….” his voice trailed off. He looked at her for a moment his expression sad and remorseful. “I wanted to make you happy.” With a nod to Dickie, he climbed aboard the carriage. “I have some business to take care of,” he said, tapping the roof of the carriage to signal the driver to proceed.
Sarah watched as the carriage turned and headed back down the drive. He did all this for me because he knew it would make me happy and…? Her heart gave a little lurch. He did it because he loves me!
She took Dickie’s hand. “Come along. I will find the housekeeper and she will make sure you get a plate of the cook’s fresh baked cookies and a glass of milk.”
She hurried him up the steps into the house. When she had Dickie settled in the housekeeper’s care, Sarah ordered her horse saddled then hurried upstairs to change into a pair of breeches, riding boots and a shirt. Throwing her black cloak over her shoulders she ran to her mare.
Once mounted, Sarah turned Shadow onto the road to London and gave the horse her head. The mare stretched out into a ground-covering gallop. She leaned low over the horse’s neck, closing her eyes, loving the feeling of the powerful animal between her legs and the wind blowing through her hair. When she got a glimpse of the coach ahead she slowed the horse to a trot and turned onto the deer trail running parallel to the road. She rode through the bush until she drew even with the coach, then plunged through and leaped out in front of the carriage. The driver pulled back on the reins, causing the four horses pulling it to throw up their heads and come to a sliding stop. Sarah spun her mare around and rode to the side of the coach motioning for the coachman to stay where he was.
The door to the coach slammed open and Byron poked his head out. “What the devil is going on….” he trailed off when he spied Sarah.
She grinned. “I demand you stand and deliver!”
Byron stared at her, his brows scrunched in bewilderment. “What?”
“Stand and deliver,” Sarah repeated.
He climbed down from the coach. “I have nothing of value to give you,” he said with a slow smile.
“Why, I beg to differ, my lord. You have only one thing of immense value I will accept.”
Byron tipped his head. “If I hand over this thing of value will you cease wearing those infernal breeches?”
She couldn't help but grin. “I could be persuaded to refrain from wearing them, I suppose.”
Byron came to stand beside her. He looked up at her, his eyes shining. “Then pray tell lady highwayman, what it is you seek and I shall endeavor to render it post haste.”
Sarah smiled down at him. “Stand and deliver your love, so I might steal it like a thief in the night.”
The love shining in his eyes said more than his lips ever could. “I speak the truth, my lady, when I tell you it has already been delivered and is forever in your possession to do with as you please.”
Sarah slid from the saddle and stood before the man she loved. He pulled her into his arms and captured her lips with his. She melted into his chest with a sigh as his tongue brushed hers, content to bask in his caress.
With a groan he pulled back, gazing down into her eyes. “I love you, my highwaywoman.”
“I know,” she whispered, “and I love you.”
Byron released her and leaped up into the saddle then reached down and hoisted her up behind. “Take the carriage back to the house, Martin,” he said to the smiling coachman.
After the carriage departed, Byron turned the horse onto the deer path leading to the little cottage where Sarah had cared for him. They rode in comfortable silence, Sarah with her head nestled against Byron’s shoulder. When they entered the clearing, Byron reined in the mare and handed Sarah down. He dismounted and tied the mare inside the lean-to. When he came back out Sarah looked up at the sky where soft gray clouds were just beginning to form.
“I think it is going to rain.”
Byron picked her up in his arms. “Let it. There are no longer any storms in my nightmares, only in my dreams of you,” He kicked open the door to the cottage and carried her inside. “Remind me to send a thank you note to the owner of this cottage.”
Sarah laughed. “Whatever for?”
“You will see….”
The End
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About the Author
Killarney is an award winning romance author from the rustic Canadian prairies. She lives on a cattle ranch with her five kids. When she is not penning historical romantic adventures she fills her time with her Thoroughbred stallion 'Stamp de Gold', whom she affectionately calls 'Love Monkey', and her herd of AQHA mares.
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