by Cheryl Holt
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to wait until she’s home?”
“Are you joking? I’m not giving you an excuse for a postponement. You might come to your senses. Then where would I be?”
“Where you are concerned, I will never come to my senses.”
They dozed off then, and when he roused, the sun was cresting the horizon, so he had to sneak out—and fast. While they’d be married soon, they weren’t married yet. He couldn’t have Petunia catch him tiptoeing out.
“Sarah?” he whispered.
She groaned and opened her eyes. For a moment, she was confused about where she was. She popped up on an elbow and frantically peered about, then recognition dawned.
He chuckled, wondering if she always awakened in such a disoriented state.
“Ooh, I was sleeping so hard,” she murmured.
“The sun’s up. I have to go.”
“I miss you already,” she said, and she eased down.
“I miss you already too.”
He slid to his feet, and he tugged on his shirt and straightened his trousers. The entire time, he studied her, filling his vision with her and suffering from the strangest perception that if he glanced away she might vanish.
It was a chilly morning, and he pulled a blanket over her and tucked her in. As he did, she gasped and said, “My goodness! I forgot I’m not wearing any clothes!”
“I like you just like this,” he told her. “From this point on, your job will be to make me happy. If you’re naked, I’m happy.”
“Bounder.”
He braced his palms on the mattress and stole a quick kiss. It was luscious and delightful, and he yearned to crawl under the blanket again, but the sun had an annoying way of climbing higher and higher.
“Will I see you today?” she inquired as he drew away.
“I’m not certain. I have to ride to London to apply for the Special License, and I’ll have some meetings too.” Mainly, he had to talk to his mother and sister and warn them of his plans. “I can’t guarantee I’ll return tonight. If I don’t stop by, don’t fret.”
“Can I tell Noah and Pet or would you rather I wait?”
“Why don’t we wait? I’ll inform people on my end, then we’ll spread the news farther than that.”
“That’s fine.”
“Might Noah like it if I went to him and asked for your hand?”
“He’d be over the moon, and he’d relish the chance to give you his permission.”
“I’ll speak to him then. It’s how we’ll apprise them. After that, we’ll announce it to the whole world.”
“I’m positive we’ll send it spinning off its axis.” She reached out and linked their fingers. “Are you still sure about this?”
“I’m very, very sure. Now you can sleep in, but I have to get out of here.”
He couldn’t decide which exit was safer—the front door or the window—but he had to hope he wouldn’t bump into Petunia as he crept away. He chose the door.
“Hurry home,” she said.
“I won’t let myself be delayed a single second.”
He paused to take a final look at her, liking how rumpled she was. She might have been a beautiful harem girl who’d just serviced her master. She appeared well-loved and contented.
He forced himself away, knowing—if he didn’t depart immediately—he never would.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Where have you been?”
“Ah…at Hero’s Haven?”
Gertrude glared at her son. She was so furious that she yearned to march over and shake him, but she managed to refrain.
“I sent for you hours ago!” she fumed.
“Really? I didn’t know.”
“Where were you? My messenger arrived at dawn, only to be apprised that you hadn’t been home all night, and none of your servants could contact you.”
His cheeks heated, providing plenty of evidence that he’d been loafing precisely where he shouldn’t have been.
“I’m not a child, Mother,” he said. “If I was out for the evening and delayed in returning, it’s not any of your business.”
“The sky has fallen on us, and I was desperate to find you. I ordered my footman to bring you with him, yet he staggered to London with no news as to your whereabouts.”
“Well, I’m here now. What’s wrong?” He glanced out the window. “It appears to me that the sky is still over our heads so perhaps you’re exaggerating a bit?”
“You think this is funny, don’t you?”
“As I have no idea what’s transpired, I can’t guess whether it’s funny or not.”
“After all the effort you expended to ensure no scandal ensued over the inquest, we have one brewing anyway. You can pretend you don’t mind, but I won’t be so blasé about it!”
“What are you talking about? Please spare me your theatrics.”
She walked to her writing desk and retrieved the note from Ophelia’s pillow.
Who could have predicted that Ophelia had such reckless tendencies? Then again, the foolish girl was Sir Sidney’s daughter. Half her blood came from him. If she’d finally wanted to marry, why didn’t she declare herself ready?
Gertrude would have been delighted to pick a husband for her.
She stomped over and handed Sebastian the note, and as he perused the words Ophelia had penned, Gertrude almost enjoyed observing the rush of emotions that crossed his face: confusion, shock, bewilderment, then rage.
“Ophelia has eloped?” he said like a dunce.
“Yes. Even as we speak, she’s racing north to Gretna Green.”
“With Judah Barnett? Oh, my lord. When did she leave?”
“It was during the night. The message was on her pillow when a housemaid went in to light the fire this morning.”
He read it over and over, as if repetition might alter the import.
“Had you any clue about her plans?” he asked.
Gertrude tsked with offense. “If I’d had a clue, don’t you suppose I’d have locked her in her room so she couldn’t sneak away?”
“She sought my opinion about Judah,” he stunned her by admitting.
“What do you mean?”
“She mentioned him a few days ago. Apparently, he’d been flirting with her, and she was curious—if he proposed—how I’d view a match between them.”
“I hope you told her you wouldn’t consider it. He’s a completely inappropriate candidate.”
“I agree, and she was very upset with me for telling her so.”
“Is that why you’ve been quarreling?”
“Yes.”
“Judah Barnett!” Gertrude was nearly wailing. “What is she thinking?”
“She isn’t thinking; that’s the problem. She doesn’t know what I know about him. I tried to warn her, but she wouldn’t listen. I kicked him off the expedition team.”
She gasped. “You what?”
“He’s involved in that whole mess with Nathan, and Nathan is correct about what happened in Africa. Judah stumbled on him alive, but left him there to die.”
“What a hideous revelation.” The story had her feeling faint, and she was struggling to unravel the threads of the sordid scenario. “Is this some type of revenge for his being cut loose? Is he using her as a bargaining chip to regain his spot? After all, if he’s your brother-in-law, he might assume you’d change your mind.”
“He could never change my mind. No matter what.”
“Perhaps he’s simply eager to glom onto her dowry.”
“Yes, but I’m the trustee of the funds, and I’d never sign over a single farthing.”
“Ophelia wouldn’t have reflected on that possibility. She’s always been a dreamer. She probably believes they’ll support themselves with her money.”
“They won’t ever receive it from me, and I won’t have him inflicting himself on us. Not after what he did to Nathan.”
“Certainly not!” Gertrude huffed. “You have to stop them, Sebastian. We can�
�t let him get away with this!”
“They’ve had such a head start. I doubt I’d be able to catch them.”
Gertrude blanched. “Don’t say so! You must catch them.”
He crumpled the note and pitched it on the floor. “I don’t want to go after them.”
“Who else is there?”
“I have my own issues to handle today. I can’t worry about how stupid Ophelia is being.”
“I can’t imagine a sole topic that would take precedence over this calamity. She is your only sister and my only daughter. We have to attempt to save her.”
“What if I can’t? What if they make it to Gretna Green? If she’s become his bride, what’s the point?”
“The point is that we have to try.”
“He’ll ruin her on the way—to guarantee the conclusion he craves. Even if he has to force her, he will. If that’s the ending we’re dealt, what then?”
Gertrude shivered with dread. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
Their conversation dwindled to a halt, and he stared out the window, his angry thoughts wafting out. Finally, he sighed with exasperation.
“I guess I’ll go,” he furiously muttered. “I don’t have a choice really.”
“You can’t travel alone.”
“Raven Shawcross will accompany me. He’s staying with friends here in town, and he never liked Judah. He’ll be thrilled to assist me.”
“We can’t have rumors spreading. Can he be trusted with our secrets?”
“He’ll never tell a soul.”
He hurried to her writing desk and penned two notes. He sanded the ink and sealed them, one inside the other so she couldn’t ascertain the second addressee.
“I need to have these delivered to the Haven,” he said. “I have to inform the staff that I’ll be away for a bit, and I had…ah…some other plans today. I have to be sure the concerned parties are aware they’re cancelled.”
“I will have them delivered immediately. When will I hear from you again?”
“I have no idea. I might find her right away or I might have to search.”
“Keep me apprised.”
“I will. If they’re married once I locate them, I will abandon them to their fate. I presume that’s your wish, yes?”
“Yes, that’s my wish. If she’s wed him, I’m through with her.”
He nodded, then stormed out, and she walked to the window to watch him mount his horse and ride away.
Vaguely, she wondered what mission had brought him to town. It hadn’t been her frantic summons. Evidently, his servants hadn’t alerted him. He’d claimed his trip had to do with his own issues, and Ophelia’s debacle had quashed any different path he’d anticipated.
After she was positive he’d departed, she went to the desk and picked up his letters. Without hesitating, she flicked at the seal. The outer one was to his butler, notifying the man that Sebastian would be delayed by important business and didn’t know when he’d be home.
As a postscript, he’d asked that the second letter be conveyed to Miss Robertson at the valet’s cottage. Gertrude tore it open, and her temper flared to a frightening degree.
I’m sorry, but we can’t proceed as I intended. A family situation drags me away, and I’ll have no opportunity to apply for the Special License. I will explain all the minute I’m back. It may be several days. I miss you already…
“A Special License?” she mused to herself.
The news was so shocking that she could barely remain on her feet. Was he thinking to wed the lowborn, mercenary tart? What else could it indicate? Ophelia had warned her of his infatuation with the horrid trollop, but Gertrude had assumed it was a passing fancy.
Was he in love with Miss Robertson? What other reason could there be for such a repugnant decision? He was Sebastian Sinclair, only son of Sir Sidney Sinclair. He could have any girl in the world as his wife, and Gertrude had selected Veronica for him. Had he forgotten?
Her children had become lunatics at the very same moment. Was there something in the air? Something in the water? Clearly, they were both insane.
Sebastian would sort out Ophelia and her ridiculous beau, but Gertrude would have to untangle this other madness. Sebastian could not be permitted to marry an up-jumped, greedy slattern. The notion was too bizarre to contemplate.
Veronica swept into the room and asked, “Was that Sebastian? My maid told me he was here. How am I to entice him if I never see him?”
“We have bigger issues to deal with than your matrimonial hopes.”
She looked suitably chastened. “You’re correct of course. What did he say about Cousin Ophelia?”
“He’ll try and stop her.”
“Thank goodness. I was so afraid he might refuse.”
Gertrude had yearned to keep the scandal quiet, but she hadn’t been able to prevent Veronica from discovering what had occurred. When Veronica had first come down to breakfast, Gertrude had been in the middle of the catastrophe.
“While he’s away,” Gertrude said, “you and I have to take care of a…predicament at Hero’s Haven.”
“What predicament?”
“Sit down, dear. I’m about to clarify a few facts of life with regard to Sinclair males.”
“I have no misconceptions as to what they’re like.”
Gertrude harrumphed. “You haven’t a clue about any of them—particularly Sebastian. They’re much more shameful than you could ever fathom.”
“Yes, he’s treated me abominably so far.”
“He hasn’t begun to humiliate you, and if you plan to survive your marriage to him, you need to grow clever in tamping down various problems.”
“What’s wrong now?”
“Ophelia enlightened me as to why he’s been too busy to propose. It’s time you hear her story. It’s pointless for you to be in the dark.”
Veronica frowned. “Why am I certain I won’t like what you’re about to confide?”
“You won’t like it, but if you ever expect to wed him, you have to do exactly as I say or, I’m aggrieved to report, it will never transpire.”
* * * *
Noah strolled down the lane toward the cottage. Petunia was with him. Even though they were supposed to hide themselves away, they’d been bored, so they’d walked to the village. They were headed home.
It was a blustery afternoon, clouds whisking by as if the weather was changing. There was a chill in the air, reminding him that autumn—then winter—were on the way.
When those seasons arrived, where would they be?
“Have you seen our brother recently?” he asked Petunia. “During the night, I mean?”
“No.”
“I spoke to him about Miss Robertson. I scolded him for calling on her so late, and I told him—if he’s sweet on her—he should marry her. If he’s not, he should leave her alone.”
“Why can’t they just be friends?”
“A man like him is never friends with a woman like her. My grandfather explained it to me. The woman simply winds up in a lot of trouble.”
Pet grinned. “Well, I’ll be positive about all of it.”
Suddenly, a carriage lumbered up behind them, and the sound was startling. The lane led directly to their cottage, and it ended there. It didn’t lead anywhere else. In the period they’d been in residence, no visitors had traveled down it.
As the vehicle neared, he studied it, deeming it ordinary, with no markings to indicate the occupants. It was small and enclosed, with two horses pulling it.
He and Pet moved to the side, figuring it would pass on by, but the driver tugged on the reins and halted. A man leaned out the window. He was rough-looking, dressed in common clothes, and he had a cruel face, as if he might have been a criminal or a pugilist.
He wondered what such an ominous fellow could want with them, and instinctively, he eased Pet behind him.
“Are you Noah Sinclair?” the man surprised him by asking.
“Ah…yes.”
The man shifted his sinister gaze to Pet. “Then you must be Petunia Sinclair.”
Pet never liked strangers, so she didn’t respond. She glanced nervously at Noah, then nodded to confirm her identity.
The man talked to someone seated with him, then the doors flew open, and several ruffians leapt out. There was no time to react. They were surrounded, grabbed, and thrown into the carriage. The driver cracked his whip, and the horses sprinted off.
Noah managed a single shout for help, then he was whacked on the head and pressed down to the floor to prevent him from crying out again.
He and Pet vanished as if they’d never been there at all.
* * * *
“Noah! Petunia! Where are you?”
Sarah was in the woods and approaching the cottage. It was late in the afternoon, the sun over in the west and sinking toward the horizon, and she’d been searching for them.
The pair had left prior to the noon meal, and it wasn’t like them to make her fret. At first, she hadn’t missed them. She’d enjoyed the solitude and had used the interval to reflect on the night she’d spent with Sebastian.
It had been thrilling and lovely, but she still couldn’t deduce why she’d ruined herself for him. Apparently, she was as foolish as any debutante. Yes, he’d proposed marriage, but what if he hadn’t been serious?
She couldn’t bear to suppose he’d be that despicable, but rich men constantly behaved in spurious ways, and the women they tricked never understood what was actually occurring until they were in a desperate jam.
Why had he proceeded? They were so different, and from centuries of trial and error, humans had learned that disparities in status and ancestry were too difficult to overcome. The world worked better when people stayed in their places.
What if he didn’t mean it? What if she never saw him again? For hours, she’d dithered over it, and ultimately, she’d ordered herself to stop worrying. If and when he tossed her over, then she would panic.
