Forever After (The Forever Series #3)

by Cheryl Holt

  Her days of employment were over, and it was an enormous relief. She could become a woman of leisure, and she would loaf and play in her sisters’ homes while they were working to build their families.

  It wasn’t precisely a recipe for success, and with her being accustomed to earning a wage, she’d forgotten how to be idle. But the great news was that she needn’t fret over anything. She could take her time on every issue.

  Perhaps the main surprise was that she had two nieces. Before her brother, Hayden, had died, he’d engaged in a salacious affair with Alex’s first wife, and he’d sired Mary and Millie.

  Sarah had never heard any gossip about the affair or the duel Hayden and Alex had fought. All of it had been hushed up to tamp down the scandal. Alex had almost killed Hayden, and their parents had whisked him out of the country to avoid his being arrested. Then they’d all perished on the way back to England.

  Sarah agreed with Abigail that it seemed Hayden was staring down from Heaven, that he’d brought Abigail to Wallace Downs so she could watch over the twins for him. They had all adored Hayden, and his daughters were such a precious gift he’d left behind. Sarah nearly burst into tears whenever she saw them.

  She was seated on a sofa, Catherine next to her and holding her hand. Mary and Millie sat at their feet.

  “They look just like us when we were nine,” Catherine said.

  “Exactly like us.” Sarah smiled down at the twins. “Can you read each other’s minds?”

  “Of course,” the twins replied together. “Can’t everyone?”

  “No,” Sarah said. “Only certain people can.”

  “Will you stay at Wallace Downs, Aunt Sarah?” Mary asked. “What have you decided?”

  It was their repeated question. Their younger years had been chaotic and their eccentric mother difficult to tolerate. They didn’t like changes or fluctuating circumstances. With Sarah having entered their world, they were nervous about her flitting out of it.

  “I haven’t decided if I’m staying.” She grinned. “Will Alex get sick of me if I refuse to leave?”

  The twins shook their heads and, appearing solemn and serious, Millie said, “Alex is never upset. You don’t have to worry about that.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Sarah told her.

  “Do you like it here?” Mary inquired.

  It was also a concern for them. They were afraid—if she didn’t like it—she’d vanish.

  “I love it here,” she assured them, “but if I travel to Stanton Manor after the wedding, could you come with me? What would you guess Abigail’s opinion would be? Would she let you?”

  Millie glanced up at Catherine and asked, “Could we come? Would that be all right?”

  “It’s always fine with me,” Catherine said, “but the wedding is in September, and I’m betting you’ll be busy with your school lessons after that.”

  There had been some discussion about sending them to boarding school. They were old enough, but Alex had quashed the notion. While he’d initially had a strained relationship with the twins, he’d become a doting father, and he didn’t want them gone. Abigail was interviewing governesses and would hire one soon.

  It was another facet of Sarah’s restored reality that she couldn’t quite accept. Everything suddenly seemed so normal. For too long, it had been turmoil and disaster and juggling jobs and security. Now it was weddings and manor houses and picking a governess to teach the children.

  The differences were disconcerting, and she was incredibly jealous over her sisters’ good fortune. They had found marvelous, affectionate husbands. Alex and Christopher were honest and decent, kind and generous. They’d provided stable homes and a spouse’s income and protection.

  During a brief period, she’d imagined she’d found her own version of paradise with Nicholas Swift, but it had been an illusion. She was still struggling to figure out what type of man he actually was. What were his genuine traits? If he walked into the room that very second and she had to describe him, how would she?

  She had no idea.

  To her disgust, she hadn’t mentioned her amour to her sisters. On observing how happy they were, she’d been too embarrassed to confess it. And what was there to tell really? She’d been seduced by a scoundrel. What woman would be eager to admit to being so gullible? Not herself certainly.

  There was no reason to talk about Nicholas.

  Besides, she recollected him saying he knew Catherine and Christopher, and she was terrified as to what Catherine’s opinion might be about him. If she had a low view and had already deduced what a dastardly blackguard he was, how would Sarah explain her infatuation?

  Millie asked Abigail, “Aunt Abigail, when Sarah travels to Stanton Manor after the wedding, could we go too?”

  “I’ll have to think about it,” Abigail responded. “Autumn will be hectic so it might be better for all of us to go at Christmas.”

  “Or could they come here again?” Mary asked.

  “Yes, they could come here,” Abigail said, “but would you stop pestering Sarah? She needs to relax and not fret over where she’ll be staying.”

  Sarah peeked down at them and winked. “I’m fine, and I’m very relaxed.”

  They grinned up at her, and she wondered if Alex realized the trouble he’d encounter in a few years when boys started to notice how fetching they were. They were definitely a father’s worst nightmare.

  Alex and Christopher were shuffling a deck of cards, and the twins rose and went over to watch their game. Sarah snuggled closer to Catherine and rested her head on her shoulder.

  “I’ve been so worried about you,” Sarah said.

  “I could feel you reaching out to me.”

  “I could feel you too, but I couldn’t get away to visit you. And I kept sending you letters using Mrs. Ford. Did you receive any of them?”

  “No. Did you receive any of mine?”

  “No.”

  “The old witch,” Catherine muttered. “I’m so glad we never have to deal with her again.”

  “So am I. I sat through an appointment in her office, and I had to listen to her call you and Abigail trollops. I was so angry she was lucky I didn’t pummel her to the ground.”

  Catherine chuckled. “I’d like to have seen that.”

  “It was one of my better moments.”

  “Abigail insisted we shouldn’t bother you about the future, but you must have been considering it. What would you like to do? Christopher has tons of friends. He could probably find you a husband—if you’re interested. I could have him begin inviting them from town.”

  Sarah could think of no more horrid fate than to have her brother-in-law begging his friends to court her. “I’m not interested. Please don’t mention it to him.”

  “Wouldn’t you like to marry eventually?” Catherine asked. “After being single for so long—and facing all the difficulties that come with being a spinster—I’m much happier now. I highly recommend matrimony.”

  Sarah scoffed. “Newlyweds always do. They assume they invented marital bliss.”

  “Well, things have been quite blissful for me recently. I’m not about to pretend otherwise.”

  “I’m delighted for you, Catherine. I’m jealous too—of you and Abigail. You snagged such excellent husbands. How did you manage it?”

  “There were bumps in our roads. It wasn’t smooth sailing by any means.”

  A footman entered, and he walked directly over to Sarah.

  “This is for you,” he told her as he handed her a letter. “It just arrived, and the butler thought you’d want to have it right away.”

  Sarah frowned. “Are you sure it’s for me?”

  “Yes, there’s no doubt,” he said, and he left.

  “It’s so late in the day,” Catherine pointed out. “It must be dreadfully important. Who is it from?”

  Sarah was unnerved by the missive and couldn’t imagine who would know she was at Wallace Do
wns. Desdemona? Jasper? They’d never contact her so who could it be? But she quickly recognized the identity of the sender.

  Everyone had paused to look over at her, and she said, “It’s from Mildred.”

  The room exploded with sighs of relief, exclamations, and even some clapping. She’d apprised all of them about Mildred and her despicable nephew, how he’d been determined to seize her fortune, how he’d had her carted off as a lunatic.

  They’d all been incensed over Mildred’s plight and had grown to view her as a sort of grandmother. The twins especially were concerned about her. With their own complex history always bubbling just below the surface, they never liked to learn that a person was experiencing trouble.

  Alex had offered to assist Mildred, and he was acquainted with Attorney Thumberton. He’d written to the renowned lawyer to be certain he was aware of her dilemma and to inquire how he could help, but there had been no answer.

  If Mildred had been able to mail a letter to Sarah, it could only be good news.

  She flicked the seal and scanned the words. “She’s been freed, and she’s safe at home.”

  There was more clapping, and Alex asked, “How did she get out of Bedlam? When you’re incarcerated in a place like that, it’s nigh on impossible to win your release.”

  “Mr. Thumberton arranged it,” Sarah said, “and he whisked her away from her nephew so he can’t harm her again.”

  There were more sighs and many smiles.

  “And guess what else?” Sarah said.

  To which there were general replies of, “What?”

  “She misses me, and she’d like to visit Wallace Downs.”

  There was a cacophony of responses: “That would be wonderful!” and “Absolutely she should come!” and “Invite her immediately.”

  “I will, I will.” Sarah laughed at their excitement and read it a few more times.

  It was short and concise, but with the twins listening she didn’t share the more sordid details. Mildred had spent nearly two weeks in the hospital while Thumberton had obtained the appropriate legal paperwork.

  She’d changed her Will, and they’d had a very distasteful meeting with Clayton where they’d informed him that Nicholas was her heir. He’d been ordered to stay away from her, and so far the edict seemed to be effective. She was recuperating at her residence outside London.

  Through it all, Nicholas had been with her, and she’d publically confirmed he was her son. Apparently, he’d been present when she’d written the letter because he’d scribbled a terse note beneath her signature.

  I will accompany Mildred to Wallace Downs, he’d penned like a threat, and she scowled at the sentence, trying to decipher what it indicated.

  Was it a simple statement of fact to notify her of his plans? Or was it his intent to quarrel a bit more? To resume their romance? Or perhaps was it a subtle warning for her to be silent about his dodgy dealings with regard to Mildred?

  She murmured to Catherine, “Can I talk to you for a minute? Alone?”

  “Of course.”

  They stood and slipped out, and they strolled down the hall to an empty parlor.

  Catherine shut the door and asked, “What is it?”

  “When I was working for Mildred, I had a brief amour.”

  Catherine grinned. “You minx! Why didn’t you say something?”

  “I was confused about him.”

  “Women are always confused about men.”

  “Yes, but this is more than a case of confusion. It’s worse, I suppose.”

  “Worse, how?”

  “I have to tell you a secret about Mildred, but you can’t tell anybody else.”

  “I don’t even know Mildred. Who would I tell?”

  Sarah took a deep breath, terrified over what she was about to put into motion. “Ah…as a young lady, Mildred had an affair with an unsuitable boy, and she wound up with child. She tried to elope with her beau, but her father stopped her.”

  “My goodness! What an awful story.”

  “It goes downhill from there. Once the elopement was averted, her beau vanished, and when her baby was born—a son—it was given out for adoption. She never learned what happened to either of them, and it’s haunted her.”

  Catherine frowned in a sympathetic way. “I can just picture how distressing it must have been.”

  “Her nephew, Clayton, had been her heir, but while we were in Bath a man appeared and declared himself to be her missing boy.”

  “Uh-oh. I don’t imagine her nephew was too pleased.”

  “No, and it’s the real reason he had her committed—so she couldn’t claim the man as her son.”

  “Where does your amour fit into it?”

  “The man I fancied was the one who stepped forward.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “Oh, yes, and I think you know him.”

  “I know him?”

  “Yes, and your husband too. They’re friends.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Nicholas Swift.”

  Catherine gasped, so shocked that she had to grab onto a nearby chair to steady herself.

  “Nicholas Swift?” she wheezed. “Thirty years old, black hair, blue-blue eyes, handsome, dashing, dissolute. A gambler, womanizer, and wastrel. Are we talking about that Nicholas Swift?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  Catherine was horrified and alarmed. “Are you in love with him?”

  “No! Well, yes. Well, maybe. He proposed to me in Bath, and I accepted, and I thought—”

  Catherine shrieked. “He proposed?”

  “Yes, and then all the drama started with Mildred. When he announced he was her son, I couldn’t decide if I should believe him. I was worried he might be deceiving her to get her money and—”

  Catherine held up a hand to halt the rest of her comment. “Wait right here. Don’t move.” She yanked open the door and went to the family parlor, saying, “Christopher, would you come with me for a minute? I need you.”

  She returned, and Sarah studied her, then asked, “What is it? Is it bad?”

  “Yes, it’s bad.”

  “If I invite Mildred to visit, Nicholas intends to accompany her. Even if I don’t invite her—and I don’t see how I can refuse—I expect he’ll show up by himself.”

  “Are you still engaged to him?”

  “Ah…I think so.”

  Christopher entered the room, and Catherine clasped his arm and pulled him inside.

  “What’s wrong?” Christopher asked her. “You look like you’re about to faint.”

  “Sarah informs me that she’s engaged.”

  “Ah…ah…that’s good news. Isn’t it?”

  Catherine’s brows shot up practically to her hairline. “Her betrothed is Nicholas Swift!”

  Christopher blanched as if Catherine had punched him. “It’s who?”

  “She’s engaged to Nicholas!” Catherine hissed.

  “Oh, my Lord,” Christopher muttered. “You Henley girls shouldn’t be allowed out on your own.”

  “She can’t marry him, Christopher!” Catherine insisted.

  “Absolutely not,” he agreed.

  They gaped at Sarah, and she realized every aspect of her relationship with Nicholas had grown a thousand times harder to unravel.

  Tentatively, she ventured, “I’m guessing you’d never give us your blessing.”

  Christopher scoffed. “I’d have to kill you to save you from yourself.”

  “You assume it would be that dreadful?” Sarah asked.

  “You have no idea,” Christopher replied. “This seems like a problem for sisters to discuss. Catherine can clarify the situation.”

  Not inclined to linger and debate the issue, he slipped out before Catherine could prevent him.

  “Coward!” Catherine called after him as he hurried away.

  He called back, “You’ll do a much better job of explaining than I ever could
.”

  Catherine spun to Sarah and said, “Let me tell you how I met Mr. Swift, which means I have to tell you about a girl named Libby Markham.”

  “I might have heard him mention her.”

  “The cad mentioned her?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can’t believe he had the gall.”

  “Will I be shocked by what you’re about to confide?”

  “Definitely, and I have to wonder if you and Libby haven’t wound up in the same sinking boat.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “I can’t believe you’re here! I’m so glad you’re all right!”

  Sarah reached out to clasp Mildred’s hand, and they had an awkward moment where they couldn’t figure out how to greet one another. Then they fell into each other’s arms and hugged as tightly as they could.

  They were in the driveway at Wallace Downs, the grand house towering behind them. Mildred had traveled in her ancient, lumbering coach. She probably should have purchased a newer, faster vehicle, but the heavy weight was perfect for weathering bad roads.

  “I was so afraid for you,” Sarah said as they drew apart.

  “I have to admit I was a tad alarmed myself.”

  “Your nephew is insane.”

  “I agree.”

  Mildred fought off a shudder.

  Male relatives locked away their female kin all the time. Usually, it transpired when a husband grew tired of his wife but couldn’t get a divorce. Or when a father ordered his daughter to marry and she refused. A daughter’s decision to defy her father was always ruled to be a sign of madness.

  In nearly every case, the woman had no money or power so she couldn’t free herself. Mildred was lucky in a thousand different ways.

  She’d viewed Clayton as a silly, pretentious fusspot. It had never occurred to her that he would commit such a heinous act. They had a very small family, with just a few elderly cousins, but that was it. She and Clayton were the only ones of consequence who remained. He’d guaranteed a permanent rift, but how would he survive without her?