by Jenna Jaxon
This time, the throat clearing started to sound like someone was about to lose a vital organ.
“Sarah, perhaps you should write to your friend then. And catch up with Lady Isabelle?”
Sarah looked at her cousin, and her cheeks paled alarmingly.
Right, that couldn’t be anything to do with him. So, what the hell was going on here? Daniel’s patience was fast running out.
He’d bought his Scottish hunting lodge, come all the way up here for some peace and quiet over the yuletide season. And all he’d gotten was confusion, riotous emotions, and a too-brief encounter with the woman who really was the root of all his problems.
And the only one who could make him truly happy.
It was time to leave. He was getting angry again, and he’d learned that his anger did nothing but get him in trouble.
Standing, he addressed the baron, who had remained quiet during his wife’s interrogation. “My apologies, once again, Sir George, for my unpardonable behaviour.”
The smaller man studied him a moment before sticking out his hand.
Daniel shook it with no small amount of relief.
“As to it being unpardonable, given what you suspected, I’d say it was justified.” Sir George grinned swiftly. “If you have a mind to, you should join me tomorrow morning for a hunt.”
Daniel heard a soft groan behind him at the invitation.
Sarah didn’t want him around then? It shouldn’t hurt after three years — and four months — but it did.
“I’d be delighted,” he answered swiftly, this time earning a muffled oath that had him biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.
The little termagant! What had he done to earn such displeasure? He ignored the niggle of hurt at her reaction.
“Lady Elizabeth.” He turned and bowed to the woman. “Thank you for your hospitality. And once again, my apologies.”
“Oh, stuff and nonsense.” The lady waved a hand. “He’ll be right as rain by Christmas. And it’s been—“ Her blue gaze ran speculatively from Daniel to Sarah, and back again. “—informative,” she finished with a sly smile. “We are having a dinner party of sorts tomorrow evening, your grace. Something to start the festive season. I do hope you will join us.”
This time there was a very definite, “Oh, for heaven’s sake,” from behind him, and he coughed to cover his laugh.
In truth, he was torn between hurt and amusement, and amusement didn’t cause that painful twist in his heart.
“I would be delighted to accept. Thank you, my lady.”
He’d been told that he could charm the birds from the trees when he set his mind to it. Shame Miss Sarah Starling seemed about as far from a bird as was possible.
“Sarah, why don’t you walk his grace out before you begin your letter to Lady Isabelle,” Lady Elizabeth said, with all the subtlety of a chaise-and-four barrelling through the living room.
“Lady Balton,” Daniel corrected, realising he’d never explained.
“What?”
Finally, Sarah had addressed him.
He turned to look at her, seeing shock and myriad other emotions in her expressive eyes.
“Lady Isabelle married the Duke of Balton last year,” he said.
For a moment, Sarah looked so stricken that he moved involuntarily to comfort her. But the look was gone as swiftly as it had come and thankfully, stopped his madness in his tracks.
Good Lord but he struggled to control himself around this woman.
“She is very happy, Miss Starling,” he said carefully, wondering just what that look was about.
Surely the fates wouldn’t be so cruel as to have Sarah be in love with the bookish duke Isabelle had married? That wouldn’t be why she’d run?
CHAPTER SEVEN
“I’m quite sure she is,” Sarah said quietly, and he was relieved that now she looked sincerely happy. “And I am thrilled for her. I’m just sorry to have missed it.”
Ah. That explained the sadness of moments ago. But if missing out on such things upset her so, then why had she run?
“Something else to write her about then, Sarah,” Elizabeth broke into Daniel’s reverie. “Your grace, if you’ll excuse us, I think I should get my husband another cold compress for his nose.”
Lady Elizabeth practically dragged her poor husband from the room, leaving Daniel and Sarah scandalously alone.
He decided that he very much liked Lady Elizabeth.
Daniel was torn between wanting answers and wanting to kiss Sarah senseless now that he had the chance. For once though, he thought with his brain and not another part of his anatomy.
“I think you owe me some answers, Sarah,” he said softly.
Her chin tilted up mutinously. “I don’t owe you anything, your grace.”
God, she was a stubborn thing. Was it odd that he found that attractive?
“No, I suppose you don’t.” He stepped closer, pleased to hear the hitch in her breathing. “But I should like one all the same. You have no idea how much it tortured me, Sarah, thinking the worst had happened to you.”
Once again, her eyes became pools of pain, and he hated that he’d put that look there. But they needed to have this conversation. For his sanity, if nothing else.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry that I did that to you. To Isabelle. But—“
His jaw clenched as he watched the shutters come down over her eyes. She wouldn’t tell him anything, he realized.
“I can’t give you an explanation, Daniel. So, it’s best that we just forget it.” She turned to leave, but he reached out and grasped her arm, careful not to hurt her.
“Sarah, you cannot walk away from me again. I cannot imagine what could be so bad that you can’t tell me.”
She stayed mutinously quiet, and his temper flared once again, though he kept it in check. For she was right. She didn’t owe him anything.
His sleepless nights, the money and time he’d spent searching for her; they were all his choice. But he’d missed her so damned much.
And now, standing here with her again, her floral scent surrounding him, her body close enough to touch. He ached for her.
“Daniel, please.” She implored him with her eyes, the tone of her voice, and his heart twisted in response.
Didn’t she know he’d do anything in his power for her? But it wasn’t in his power to walk away from her. He couldn’t just forget her. He hadn’t been able to for years. How could she expect him to now when he’d finally found her?
“Sarah, if you’re in some kind of trouble, let me help. I want to help.” For a moment, he thought he’d gotten through to her.
She opened her mouth as if to speak. But within seconds the mask was back in place.
“I’m not in trouble. I just — I had enough of London. I wanted to get out.”
“You had enough of London? Everything in London?”
She flinched slightly, and if he hadn’t been watching so closely, he’d have missed it.
He watched a hundred different expressions play out across her lovely face. And he wondered if she had any idea what an open book she was.
All too soon, she landed on something that looked very much like coldness.
“Yes,” she said, her tone biting, her words cutting. “I had enough of everything and—“
Daniel already knew what she would say. It still hurt like hell, though.
“And everyone,” she finished, tilting her chin once more.
And there it was.
The confirmation that she wasn’t who he’d thought she was. And his memories of what they had were obviously fantastical. And yet, he still couldn’t quite believe that.
He didn’t speak for a moment, lest he say something stupid like tell her how much he had missed her. How much he lo—
Well, there was little point in thinking that way. Far too much had happened in such a short space of time. He needed to leave and figure out how to get over her once and for all.
&
nbsp; “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said softly before turning to take his leave.
“What? You’re still coming to dinner?”
Was it his imagination or did she sound panicked about that? Well, that was too bad.
Something was niggling at him in the back of his mind. The Sarah he’d known would never just callously give up her friends and family. Just walk away from Isabelle Carlton, whom he knew she’d loved like a sister. Even if he truly had meant nothing to her.
But he didn’t think he’d been that wrong about her character. Though he was every kind of fool for not just letting it go, Daniel knew he wouldn’t rest until he got to the bottom of whatever was going on here. There was something more to it.
“I was invited, so I am coming,” he said easily. “Don’t worry, Miss Starling. I am not the type of man to chase after a woman who doesn’t want me. Not anymore, in any case.” He laughed, hearing the harshness of his tone.
Without another word, he bowed slightly and turned to the door.
Before he swept through it, her soft voice halted him in his tracks.
“Daniel.”
He turned back to face her, hope rising in him, foolish man that he was.
She looked so vulnerable, so beautiful, that it took all his strength not to pull her into his arms and insist on fighting her demons for her.
“I—“
He waited an agonising eternity.
But she merely shook her head.
“It’s for the best.”
He didn’t believe that. He couldn’t. But he wasn’t about to tell her that.
So, without a word, he walked away, all the while knowing that despite his words to the contrary, he would always pursue her. The past three years and four months had proven he was unable to just let her go.
***
He was gone, and Sarah could finally let the tears come. And come they did. In huge, gut-wrenching sobs. It felt like her heart was breaking all over again.
For three years, and four months apparently, she’d convinced herself that she was healing.
She had done her mourning for the life she’d known. She had grieved for what might have been. And then she’d moved on. She’d built a happy life.
Two days in this man’s company and she knew she’d been fooling herself.
Her soul wouldn’t allow her to be happy without Daniel, and her heart wouldn’t allow her to pull him into her mess.
Sarah felt wrung out. Exhausted from crying, exhausted from her sleepless night, exhausted from the riot of emotions she had experienced since Daniel’s appearance.
His jealousy had given her a warm, delighted glow, and she had to admit that her heart had melted when she finally understood the reasons behind his attack on George.
It was really rather lovely. Well, not for George.
And though she’d thought his jealousy ludicrous and his reaction preposterous, the second he’d mentioned Isabelle and began praising her beauty, she’d been ready to march back to London and give her dearest friend a black eye of her own!
Her vicious thoughts had shocked and shamed her.
Yet they wouldn’t be quieted. Until he’d said he preferred blondes…
Sarah wiped her eyes and made to move from the living room and lock herself away upstairs until she got a handle on herself.
The news of Isabelle’s marriage to her Mathew was another thing that caused Sarah’s emotions to go haywire.
Isabelle and Sarah had spent many happy hours plotting all sorts of ways to get Isabelle’s childhood friend to sit up and take notice of her.
Those times had been the happiest of Sarah’s life, aside from her time with Daniel.
Though Lady Farrow was quite disdainful of her, the Farrows’ townhouse had been infinitely preferable to the viscount’s, with her mother worrying about money and her father drinking and whoring and making their lives at times unbearable. And that wasn’t even taking into consideration the behaviour of her debased brother.
It had shocked and pained her to hear that Isabelle had finally gotten everything she’d ever wanted, and Sarah hadn’t been there for it.
She was ecstatically happy for her friend. She could only imagine how happy she herself would be, if all of her problems went away. If Daniel swept her into his arms and told her he loved her and wanted to marry her.
Oh, for heaven’s sake, Sarah.
It didn’t matter that Daniel appeared to still care for her. It didn’t matter that she knew now, with utter certainty, that she could never marry a farmer, or a merchant, or anyone that wasn’t him.
She most assuredly couldn’t marry him.
So, she was to be stuck with only her misery for company.
It had been so very, very tempting to tell Daniel everything. To spill her shameful secret. To lean her head on that rock-solid chest of his.
When he’d been standing so close, beseeching her with eyes that bored into her like emerald fire burning through her misgivings. When she’d been surrounded by his scent and his size and just him, it would have been so easy to share her burden and let him help her carry it.
But Sarah just couldn’t do it. Wouldn’t do it to him. And wouldn’t do it to herself.
For as soon as Daniel, the powerful Duke of Darthford, knew that Sarah Starling was nothing more than another man’s illegitimate bastard, he’d have no choice but to walk away from her forever.
As foolish as it was, and even though she would no longer be tormented by his nearness if he should just leave and never look back, she didn’t want him thinking ill of her.
So then, what choice did that leave her?
She would have to see him, be near him, be in his company, for as long as he stayed in Landscastle. Somehow she would have to hide her true feelings — despite the fact they went haywire anytime he was near.
And when he left, she would have to pretend she wasn’t fazed by his departure at all. Even as she knew that when he left, he’d be taking her mangled heart right along with him.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Dearest, would it really be so bad if he knew?”
Sarah’s eyes flew to her cousin’s in surprise.
Surely Elizabeth knew it would absolutely be “so bad” if he knew.
“Of course, it would,” she said dully. Having spent another sleepless night worrying about and pining for Daniel Sutton, the last thing Sarah wanted was to be reminded how hopeless the situation was.
“Granted, I don’t know the man. And I’ve only seen him when he’s been chasing you or beating up my husband, but he seemed a decent sort.”
Sarah laughed in spite of herself. Elizabeth was the only women she knew who would think those things were in the man’s favour.
But she sobered quick enough.
Taking a gulp of her cooling tea, Sarah sighed from the depths of her soul.
“He is a decent sort. He’s wonderful. But—“ She swallowed past a sudden lump in her throat. “But he’s still a duke, Elizabeth. And I’m still a — a bastard.”
It still hurt to say it.
“Telling him would change nothing of the situation. All it would do is increase the risk of someone finding out. And I’d be ruined. Worse still, I’d have to live with either his revulsion or his pity. And I don’t know which of those I could stand less.”
Elizabeth leaned over and squeezed Sarah’s hand in silent support. There were no platitudes offered, and Sarah was glad of it, for what could be said to make any of this better? Any of this different?
“That reprehensible brother of yours should be shot,” she said stoutly.
“Well, that would solve a lot of my problems, but it wouldn’t change my parentage.”
“You don’t know that he’s telling the truth,” Elizabeth said, as though they hadn’t discussed this hundreds of times before.
Three years and four months ago.
“He showed me the letters, Elizabeth,” Sarah reminded her patiently. She knew her cousin was only trying to be support
ive.
But if there’d been any way to have avoided losing her whole life, losing Daniel, Sarah would have done it.
“I saw the words my mother wrote to that man. My father.” She grimaced. “And if I claim my inheritance, Michael will expose me. Any semblance of respectability I had would be destroyed. And worse, my mother’s memory would be destroyed, too.”
Sarah sighed once again.
“She did wrong, I know. But – she was a kind-hearted woman, and my father was an ogre, as you well know. I’m not excusing her actions, but I don’t think she deserves to have her name dragged through the mud by the vipers of London, do you?”
“No, I do not,” Elizabeth said immediately. “She was as fine a woman as ever I knew, and I know that whatever the circumstances, she dearly loved you, Sarah. That’s why she left you your grandmother’s money.”
“Yes, and that’s why Michael is threatening me with exposure. If I don’t claim my inheritance, if I don’t come back to release him from his duties as trustee, he can continue to spend my money without a care. Perhaps when he burns through it all, he’ll burn those letters, and I can have my life back.”
It wasn’t true, of course. And Elizabeth knew it, as well, if her silence was anything to go by.
When Michael spent Sarah’s money, he’d find some other way to blackmail her. Unless she stayed hidden away.
He knew she’d run with nothing, or thought she had. He didn’t know that she’d been hiding pin money for years lest he or her father get it and gamble it away.
What she had run with would mean nothing to him. Not while he had control of her inheritance from her mother’s side.
Grandmother’s fortune hadn’t been part of Mama’s dowry, thank goodness. And her father, or step-father she supposed, had refused to give Sarah a dowry.
She had always assumed it was because he simply didn’t have it to give. Now she knew he wouldn’t support another man’s child.
It had only really been her friendship with Isabelle Carlton that had ensured Sarah was admitted to the hallowed halls of London’s elite. That and the fact that her lack of dowry was kept under wraps.
