The Townsbridge's Series

by Sophie Barnes

  She chuckled in response to his playful tone. “You truly are insufferable.”

  “Hmm. Your turn.”

  Sarah chose to do as he’d suggested earlier and aimed for the largest hole in the board - the one worth ten points. This time, her ball sailed through the opening without a hitch.

  “Well done, Miss Townsbridge,” Brunswick applauded while she clapped her hands and made a small jump. She really didn’t care if she’d taken the easy way out. All that mattered was that she’d met with success.

  “You’re very good at this,” she told him later when it was clear who the winner would be. “I don’t suppose you have a similar game at home where you’ve been secretly practicing in anticipation of this outing?”

  He grinned, eyes sparkling with the sort of amusement she could get lost in for days. “Why, I do believe you’ve found me out.”

  She loved this easy, unrestrained side of him where he laughed and joked and behaved with carefree abandon. They finished the game and moved on to another where they had to hit a ball with a mallet, much like one would in a game of pall mall, so it rolled up a seesaw that caused it to tilt, allowing the ball to slide down the opposite side and drop into the waiting hole.

  Sarah laughed when Brunswick’s ball flew over the seesaw and past the hole. “You’re hitting it too hard. A gentle hand is required here. Do step aside and allow me to show you.”

  And so she did.

  He grumbled, tried a few more times, and eventually managed to get it right on his fifth attempt. “There we are. That wasn’t so hard.”

  A snort of amusement escaped through Sarah’s nose. “Certainly not, Your Grace. You truly are a champion among men.”

  His eyes met hers with considerable mischief. “I’ve always considered myself a paragon of sportsmanship.”

  “Indeed?”

  Sarah smiled at him as they went on to the next game. She was immensely pleased with how the day was unfolding, and later, as they admired the view from the top of the Chinese tower, she allowed herself to sidle up closer to him. Even though they were never completely alone with Anna always somewhere nearby, Sarah felt as though they’d managed to tuck themselves away from the rest of the world for a while - as if here, with her, in this park, Brunswick had let his guard down completely.

  “I’ve enjoyed our outing today a great deal,” she confessed. “Thank you for agreeing to join me.”

  “It’s been a pleasure.” He gave her a sideways glance and she noticed a serious quality to his eyes now that hadn’t been there before. Her heart skipped in anticipation of what he might say. If he proposed again, would she say yes? Mind racing she tried to stay calm, only to learn there’d been no need for concern when he said, “I was wrong to think you’d marry me without becoming better acquainted first.”

  “Are you saying you’re glad I turned you down?”

  “No. I still think we could have made it work, but I don’t think it would have worked as well as if we were to start out as friends.”

  “Friends, Your Grace?”

  “I do hope you’ve come to regard me as such.” He suddenly sounded uncertain.

  Sarah gave him a warm and reassuring smile. “Of course. I, um...I like spending time with you.”

  “And I with you.” He reached for her hand and raised it to his lips for a kiss that lingered much longer than what was deemed appropriate. “Perhaps we can meet again soon?”

  “Yes,” she agreed, perhaps more readily than she should have and certainly with her voice sounding too breathless for someone whose feet were still planted on solid ground.

  As if noting the effect he had on her, the edge of Brunswick’s mouth curved to form a purely wicked smile that sent sparks of heat dancing down her bare arms. Leaning in, he whispered, “I’m sure we can arrange for additional outings. A visit to Vauxhall could be fun. And eventually, if you dare, a private candlelight meeting at my folly.”

  Sarah swallowed while trying to tamp down the buzzing sensation that seemed to fan out from her belly. Her heart fluttered wildly as if anxiously seeking attention. She didn’t feel like herself. In fact, she felt quite out of control and she somehow knew it had something to do with Brunswick’s words and the way he’d phrased them, so seductively they seemed to flow through her body like molten lava.

  “What you’re proposing is–”

  “Not to be talked of again until you’re ready.”

  “But–”

  “I still hope to marry you, Miss Townsbridge, but I’m not sure my pride can manage being turned down by you again.” He drew back a little. Just enough for them to face each other more fully. “Let me know when you’ve made up your mind.”

  The next three weeks progressed in a similar manner. Matthew saw Miss Townsbridge every few days, either for a walk in Hyde Park - he was getting better at matching her pace - for afternoon tea with her parents, at a musicale where they both sat in the back so they could converse discreetly as they’d done at the theatre, during another ball where neither danced with anyone else - much to the delight of the gossips, and at Vauxhall.

  Yet Miss Townsbridge never once gave any indication of wanting more. Certainly not something as serious as marriage. Oh, she’d blush when he leaned in to give her a compliment, and her voice would drop to this husky murmur that heated his blood whenever he touched her. Indeed, there was no doubt in his mind he stirred her senses, yet she still managed to keep him at arm’s length.

  The whole business was driving him mad.

  Mostly because he was starting to fear his resolve. Hell, he wanted her in ways that terrified him - in ways he knew he could never allow no matter how much she tempted him with surrender. Love. The most dangerous feeling in the world. He had to resist it at all cost. He had to stay strong.

  So when her parents invited him for dinner again, he turned the invitation down and remained home instead. A little reprieve was in order. He needed a chance to find his bearings, to focus on what was important here - the necessity of their eventual union instead of some fanciful romance invented by poets.

  “You look like a wreck,” David St. Nichols, Viscount Ottersbridge, told him when the two took a ride out of London one day. Matthew knew him from his time at Oxford. David had said something during one of Matthew’s descents into misery, causing Matthew to lash out the only way he’d known how. They’d both thrown punches until they were lying side by side on the ground exhausted. Afterward, David had offered to buy Matthew a drink, and the two had been friends ever since. “I can’t help but wonder if it’s got something to do with that Townsbridge chit. According to the papers, you’re making a great deal of effort to win her hand, which would explain why I’ve not seen you in recent weeks.”

  “She’s turned me down twice.”

  “Ho! And yet you persist.” David laughed as they guided their horses onto the West Road. “Either she’s got you bewitched or you’ve sampled her goods and–”

  “Shut up. It’s nothing like that.”

  “Oh, I see. It’s the wanting what you cannot have, then.”

  Matthew shook his head. “You know I’ve been wife hunting for two years. I considered everyone and eventually picked her. Starting over with the whole process strikes me as exhausting, so I’m trying to change her mind by letting her get to know me.”

  David cut him a skeptical look. “You don’t let anyone do that. Hell, I don’t even know what makes that brain of yours tick for the most part. And when it comes to your past–”

  “I think I’ve managed to dissuade her from pressing that particular issue.”

  “So then?”

  “We’ve gone fishing, played games, talked at great length, and danced. I showed her the folly, you know.”

  “The monument to your suffering?” David snorted. “Good God, Matthew. If you’re not careful, she might fall in love with you.”

  “That is what I’m aiming for.” When David gaped at him as if he’d gone mad, Matthew felt compelled to say, “It’s
the only way I can think of ensuring her acceptance.”

  “It’s a bloody diabolical way, if you ask me,” David said. “Getting a woman to fall in love with you when you have no plan of loving her back? Christ. I’ve never thought myself to be the softhearted sort, but even I’m getting queasy just thinking about it.”

  Matthew tightened his hold on the reins and stared straight ahead. He couldn’t afford to feel guilty over this, and what good would that do anyway? Miss Townsbridge was of an age where she ought to get married. She wasn’t in love with anyone else. He wasn’t ruining her chance of a happy union. It was clear no other man had an interest. So then, what was the harm?

  You’ll break her heart and crush her spirit.

  No. He wouldn’t. She was a strong and capable woman. All he had to do was make sure she was too distracted to ponder the lack of his presence after the wedding. He’d make sure she had a whole zoo of animals needing her care, a dozen female companions for her to play games with, vast amounts of land on which to walk, and a pond where she could fish.

  She’d be too preoccupied to think of him, let alone miss him. And on the few occasions when they met, he’d stop her from worrying over his absence by making love to her with zeal.

  It wasn’t ideal, but it was the best he could offer. She’d have a good life - the sort of life other young women would envy. He urged his horse into a gallop, not caring if David was able to keep up or not.

  The next time Sarah saw Brunswick, he was leaving a hothouse with a bouquet of flowers.

  “Oh,” she exclaimed and promptly cursed herself for sounding like a dimwitted fool while her heart proceeded to flutter like mad. Which was perfectly nonsensical.

  The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. Of course he looked handsome as ever, which somehow seemed to vex her.

  “Miss Townsbridge,” he said. “How serendipitous of us to meet here when I was intending to call on you forthwith.” He looked to her side and acknowledged her maid with a polite nod that only increased Sarah’s fondness for him.

  “You were?” she asked, attempting to sound only mildly excited. Lord, how she’d missed him these past few days. It was quite unreasonable and could only mean one thing.

  She’d fallen in love and apparently the act had turned her into a fawning idiot.

  He raised an eyebrow while she did her best to maintain her equilibrium. “Perhaps you will allow me to escort you home. If that is where you were heading.”

  “Thank you. I’d appreciate that.” To her relief her voice sounded normal. “As long as you do not mind a short detour. I’ve a sudden craving for an ice and Gunter’s isn’t far.”

  She was in desperate need of immediate refreshment, something cool to soothe her agitated nerves and dispel the flush she could feel in her cheeks.

  “Do you know, I’ve never had one before.”

  Sarah gaped at him. “You’ve never had an ice?”

  “No.”

  “Not even as a child? Your parents never bought one for you?”

  She recognized her mistake immediately and wished she could shove the words back in her mouth. What was she thinking, bringing up his childhood and his parents when she knew it would only remind him of loss?

  “In any case,” she told him brightly, hoping to quell the despair she knew would be sinking its teeth into him already. “You are in for a treat. The–”

  “Perhaps some other time.” He glanced around as if searching for an escape route. “It just occurred to me there’s somewhere else I need to be.”

  When he shoved the flowers toward her, imploring her to take them, Sarah refused. Instead, she forced her hands to remain by her sides and tilted her chin up a notch in defiance. “I don’t think there’s anywhere more important than right here, right now.”

  His lips parted and he took a step back, shook his head while staring at her as if she presented his every worst nightmare come to life. “I’m sorry.”

  When he turned and started walking away, Sarah signaled her maid and went in pursuit. It was time for this to end, no matter how painful he found it.

  “Lord Brunswick,” she said when she was close enough for him to hear without her having to raise her voice. “Your Grace?”

  Stubbornly, as if determined to put as much distance between them as possible, he kept on going, lengthening his strides until she was forced to make small running steps in between her own paces in order to keep up. Some people were starting to stare. Not that this part of Town was particularly crowded at this hour, but it was busy enough for people to notice a lady chasing a gentleman down the street.

  Good lord.

  Sarah offered them all a tight smile and prayed the scene would not be described in tomorrow’s paper alongside some ghastly caricature.

  She sidestepped a merchant, almost collided with a lady exiting a shop, and hopped over a puddle. Really. Enough was enough.

  “Matthew.”

  His head whipped round as he came to a halt. “Sarah?”

  She puffed out a breath. “Considering the speed you were going just now, I’m surprised you struggled to keep up with me that one time in the park. Goodness, I think I’m getting a stitch.”

  “What are you doing?” He looked utterly bewildered, which was rather alarming.

  Sarah grabbed hold of his arm and tried to appear as normal as possible. “Chasing you, apparently.”

  When he tried to pull away from her grasp, she tightened her hold and dug in her heels. He was stronger than she and perfectly able to wrench himself free if he wished.

  Knitting his brow, he gave her a frustrated stare. “I’m not good company at the moment.”

  “Maybe not,” she agreed, “but you cannot keep running away.”

  “I am not–”

  “Least of all from me if you truly intend for me to be your wife.” She gave him her firmest look. “You need to talk, Matthew, and I am–”

  “No. There will be no talking, no trip down memory lane, no re-living the…the...”

  A raspy sound came from his throat, filling Sarah with genuine concern. “Dear heavens. Are you all right?”

  “I...I cannot…” He yanked his arm free from her grasp and began tugging at his cravat while coughing and gasping.

  Sarah’s blood froze in her veins. The man she loved was having a fit and she’d no idea how to help him.

  Acting on pure instinct, she pushed his frantic hands away from his neck since he seemed to be struggling with the intricate knot his valet had tied. No longer concerned over who might see or how this public display of impropriety could affect her own reputation, she began undoing the tangled mess as quickly as she was able.

  Who on earth had ever had the idiotic idea of wrapping lengths of linen about a man’s neck? It was absolutely ridiculous and served no purpose at all as far as she could tell. Muttering an indelicate series of curses, she wove one end of the cravat in and out of two different strips and was finally able to get some leeway. With a few more gentle tugs and a bit of careful unwinding, she had the cravat undone.

  “Matthew,” she said. “Look at me. Can you breathe?”

  He inhaled deeply, added a few short breaths, and eventually nodded. “Yes. Thank you. I don’t know what happened.”

  “I think I do,” she told him softly. Taking him by the arm once more, she talked to him while leading him along. “We’ll cross the street up ahead. You’ll be back home in no time at all. Don’t worry.”

  “I’m sorry, Sarah. I didn’t mean to ruin your afternoon like this. It’s completely unacceptable and…” He was quiet a moment before he admitted, “I’m quite embarrassed.”

  “Think nothing of it. I had no real plans anyway, and even if I did, I would never abandon you when you’re not well.”

  “I fear I’m not the most presentable gentleman at the moment,” he said when they’d walked a bit further. “Your reputation may not survive this.”

  “It will if we marry.”

  He stumbled sligh
tly. “I beg your pardon?”

  Sarah smiled. She’d been horribly shaken by what had happened. Her insides still trembled and her heart rate had not yet returned to normal, so it was nice to resume the familiar banter she enjoyed when they were together. “After everything I’ve put you through, I wonder if you would say yes if I were to propose to you.”

  He coughed and she instantly glanced at his face to make sure he was not about to have a second attack. “You’ll have to ask in order to know.”

  “Hmm…” They arrived at his townhouse where she waited patiently on the front steps for the butler to show up before even thinking of letting Matthew out of her sight. Addressing the older gentleman with a firm tone, she said, “Leave the garden gate unlocked please. His Grace has had a most strenuous afternoon, and I have every intention of making sure he is well cared for.”

  “Miss Townsbridge,” Matthew protested.

  “You and I need to speak,” she murmured. “And I don’t believe you want an audience while we do. So please, have your butler leave the gate open and I shall come find you. I promise.”

  Chapter 6

  Matthew flattened his mouth and gave a short nod of agreement. Knowing she’d already lingered outside a bachelor’s home too long, Sarah walked away together with her maid and returned to her own house next door. Once inside, after divesting herself of her outerwear garments, bonnet, and gloves, she turned to Anna. “Needless to say, nothing you may have seen or heard this past hour is to be passed on to anyone else.”

  “Of course not, miss.”

  “Thank you.” Sarah climbed the stairs and headed toward her bedchamber, only to be stopped by Athena when her door swung open as if she’d been listening at it in expectation of Sarah’s return.

  “What’s going on?” Athena asked.

  “Whatever do you mean?”

  Athena narrowed her gaze on Sarah. “In case you’ve forgotten, my bedchamber window overlooks the street. So does Mama and Papa’s, by the way, so you’d better hope neither of them saw you strolling along with a half-naked duke or they’ll both be planning your wedding post haste.”