“Yes.” He reached for her hand and twined his gloved fingers with hers. “Can you forgive my behavior toward you and your brothers?”
“Of course.”
His expression relaxed and he blew out a breath. “Thank God. I was worried you wouldn’t.”
Something else she’d not expected. “Really?”
The edge of his mouth lifted to form an incredibly roguish smile. “Does it surprise you to know I enjoy your company?” When she nodded, he raised her knuckles to his lips for a brief kiss. “It shouldn’t. You’re the only one who can make me smile.”
Speechless, Sarah could only gape at him. She wasn’t sure if he was being honest or deliberately flirtatious. Either way, he made her feel appreciated, as though she’d accomplished something meaningful, something he was grateful for.
“I’m glad,” she heard herself say. “More than you can possibly imagine.”
His eyes gleamed as he bowed his head toward hers. She sucked in a breath. Would he kiss her? She wasn’t yet sure. But what if he did? Should she allow it?
Her heart pounded harder as he drew nearer. She was asking herself the wrong questions. What she ought to be asking was, did she want to allow such intimacy between them?
Yes, her body insisted with wild jubilation. Yes, you most certainly do. You’ve never been kissed before. Don’t pass up this chance.
Her brain was far more hesitant, warning her to be careful, to not give him the wrong impression. If they kissed, surely he’d think they were on their way to the altar.
Before she could finish her internal debate, his cheek brushed the side of her head, and then he whispered against her ear, “Dance with me, Miss Townsbridge.”
A shiver raced through her. She knew she wasn’t a stunning beauty. If asked, she would describe herself as ordinary, perhaps even plain. Athena had always been the one with the almond-shaped eyes, delicate nose, and full lips set in a heart-shaped face surrounded by a thick mass of curls.
Not once in her life had Sarah felt desirable.
Until now in this very moment with Brunwick’s seductive voice breezing over her skin, his masculine scent, a rich blend of brandy and sandalwood, swirling around her, and the warmth of his hand clasping hers.
It was dizzying, and as a result she could only nod.
The moment she did, his lips grazed her cheek, so swiftly she scarcely had time to appreciate the gentle caress.
“Thank you.” He offered his arm and she accepted. A wicked smile teased his lips. “I sincerely hope the next dance is the waltz.”
IT WAS.
Chest tight with emotion, Matthew clasped Miss Townsbridge’s hand while placing his left palm against her back. He hadn’t lied when he’d told her she looked lovely tonight. In fact, she’d stolen his breath when she’d stepped out onto the terrace, dressed in a gown cut from golden silk. The fabric hugged her delectable figure, instilling in him a severe urge to run his hands over each perfect curve.
The music started and he stepped forward, guiding her into the first part of the dance. His apology seemed to have worked, or perhaps it had been his explanation. He’d merely offered some measly crumbs to appease her curiosity, but they’d gained the sympathy and forgiveness he needed. All he had to do now was play the seductive charmer, and he’d no doubt she’d soon give him the answer he wanted.
It wouldn’t be hard.
Pressing his hand more firmly against her back, he caught her gaze and held it while leading her in a wide arc. “I’d like you to join me at the opera tomorrow evening.” He took a deep breath and savored the sweet scent of roses that clung to her skin. “Don Giovanni is playing. Have you seen it?”
“No. I’ve not had the chance yet. And I’d be delighted,” she added softly. “Thank you.”
His heart expanded with an indefinable emotion he dared not explore more fully just then. He cleared his throat. “You’ll need an escort, of course.”
“I’m sure my parents would be happy to accompany me.”
They confirmed this as soon as the dance was over, allowing Matthew to breathe a sigh of relief. Happy with the progress he’d made that evening, he stepped back and gave a short bow. “Until tomorrow then.”
“You’re already leaving?” Miss Townsbridge asked.
He smiled in response to the hint of regret playing in her eyes. “I only came so I could enjoy one dance.”
Her blush made him wish he could stay, but he’d already made up his mind before coming. If he was to win her, he had to move slower and with more finesse. Their interaction this evening was a perfect example. He’d handled it with the skill of a grand master chess player. And now it was time to retreat - to make her miss him a little so she would rejoice when they met again tomorrow.
Slowly but surely he’d make her crave him. Until she dreamed of letting him kiss her. Until the only answer she’d give him was, “Yes.”
He addressed her parents. “It’s been a pleasure.”
“Indeed,” Lord Roxley murmured. “We look forward to seeing you again soon.”
Matthew gave a quick nod, smiled at Miss Townsbridge, and departed. Once in his carriage, he tried not to worry about the anticipation kicking his own heart into a faster rhythm. He was simply excited because his plan appeared to be working. It had nothing to do with anything else, certainly not with an eager desire to spend more time getting to know Miss Townsbridge and absolutely not with some desperate longing he harbored for her to feel affection toward him.
No. There was nothing like that. Because that would suggest he was getting emotionally attached. Which he absolutely was not. She was just a woman he liked enough to marry. Nothing more.
“LAST NIGHT’S DANCE and tonight’s invitation to the opera have made it official,” Sarah’s mother said as they travelled by carriage to the theatre. “The Duke of Brunswick is courting you, Sarah.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Sarah’s father muttered. “If you’re not careful you’ll wind up married to a man you do not care for, all because you were trying to help him.”
“Which in and of itself would suggest she cares,” Sarah’s mother said.
Sarah’s father groaned and prayed aloud for God to save him from impossible women. Sarah on the other hand simply smiled. She was immensely pleased with the manner in which things were now progressing between herself and Brunswick. While his apology was commendable, it was his willingness to share a part of himself with her that made her feel truly triumphant. Granted, she’d still a lot more to learn. They were only at the beginning. But it was a start.
Whether she’d ever marry him however; that was yet to be determined.
“How has your day been?” Brunswick asked once they were comfortably seated in his box with him at her left and her mother to her right.
“Excellent. Although I was not thrilled with having to move my rabbit.”
“You ought to have known I’d eventually find it,” her mother said. “Honestly, the smell, Sarah. I can’t imagine what you were thinking.”
Sarah hadn’t noticed a smell. At least not one strong enough to prompt her mother to investigate.
“I trust your mother was not aware you’d acquired a pet?” Brunswick asked.
“It’s not a pet,” Sarah said. “It’s a rescue.”
“All the more reason to keep it in the mews with the other animals,” her mother said.
Sarah wanted to remind her that the other animals consisted solely of horses and wouldn’t be appropriate companions for a small, helpless rabbit, but her father made a shushing sound, halting her comment. “The performance is starting.”
Sarah sank back in her seat and tried not to feel too annoyed. Her parents knew she was passionate about this. She’d been saving animals most of her life, and she always made sure they didn’t cause trouble for anyone else.
“Tell me about the rabbit,” Brunswick whispered against her ear once the opera was well underway.
And so she did. She told him ho
w she’d found it and brought it home, how she’d cleaned its wound, bandaged its leg, and fed it.
“Is this something you do a lot?” he asked once she was done with her tale. “Take in helpless animals and patch them up.”
“It happens on occasion.”
“On how many occasions?” he asked with a teasing lilt to his voice.
“On at least seven that I can think of. It all began with a puppy I found by the garden gate when I was eight years old. His ear was torn and he’d clearly not been fed for a while, the poor thing was so scrawny. So I took him to the kitchen and fed him.” She smiled at the memory. “Our cook at the time promised to keep quiet about it, but hiding a puppy is no simple task. Charles was the first to find out. He even offered to help and ended up becoming Mozart’s designated walker. Even after Mama and Papa agreed to let me keep him.”
“Do you have any other pets?”
“They’re technically not pets.” She lowered her voice even further. “My parents won’t tolerate those on account of the shedding.”
“I see,” he said with a chuckle.
“How about you,” she asked. “Have you ever had a pet?”
“Once, when I was a boy. My fa–”
Sarah watched his entire demeanor change, and she realized he’d spoken without thinking, only to be reminded of what he’d lost.
“Excuse me,” he muttered and started to rise.
Once again he was trying to run, to distract himself so he would forget.
Sarah reached out and grabbed his hand. “Have you ever been to Kew Gardens?” she asked.
“No. I, um, actually–”
“Neither have I, but I hear it’s quite splendid. Perhaps we could go together?”
Her suggestion had the desired effect. Brunswick smiled, his distress a moment earlier seemingly put to rest. “I must say, Miss Townsbridge, I’ve never been invited out by a lady before.”
“As you’ve probably already realized, I am different from the norm. And besides, there’s a first time for everything, Your Grace. Shall we say Thursday?”
“I can bring my carriage to pick you up at nine. Is that too early?”
“No. It’s perfect.” Immensely pleased with her ability to lighten his mood and ensure she’d see him again soon, Sarah turned her attention toward the stage while a smile played upon her lips.
It wasn’t until later, when the lights came back on for intermission, that she realized she still held his hand.
STANDING BY HIS BEDCHAMBER window, Matthew stared into the night. He’d never particularly liked the opera. The only reason he’d suggested going was because he’d wanted to see Miss Townsbridge again in a different setting. That, and he’d wanted a chance to show her one of the benefits she would enjoy as his wife. His box was exceedingly comfortable and offered a particularly superb view of the stage. Her parents had commented on it, but the lady herself hadn’t seemed to care. She’d been far more interested in chatting. And he, he had to admit, had been so enthralled that the three hour performance he’d dreaded had flown by in no time at all.
He placed his hand on the cool window pane and expelled a breath, allowing it to fog the glass. She wasn’t far, just a stone’s throw away, and he couldn’t help but wonder what she was doing at that exact moment. Was she sitting up late enjoying a book, having a late night snack, or sleeping peacefully in her bed?
Closing his eyes for a moment, Matthew told himself not to care. It didn’t matter what she did, if she liked to walk so fast that it felt like one’s heart would fly from one’s chest, whether she found the work he’d done on the folly impressive, or if she was keen on helping an injured animal back on its feet. The only thing of any importance at all was that she would make a suitable duchess and a good mother for his children. Anything more was too dangerous.
It already is.
You look forward to seeing her.
Just the mere thought caused his heart to race.
Don’t lose control.
He wouldn’t.
He’d been guarding his heart for nineteen years. Getting to know Miss Townsbridge did not equal falling in love with her. Heavens, he was much too sensible to let that happen. But he was also wise enough to admit that he ought to have some idea of who she was as a person - beyond what he’d learned during his selection process.
So he’d enjoy another outing with her. What possible harm could there be in that?
Happy with how things were going and his ability to keep control, he drew the curtains and climbed into bed without sparing Miss Townsbridge another thought. Or two. But no more than three.
“IT’S JUST AS PRETTY as I expected,” Miss Townsbridge exclaimed a few days later as they walked through Kew Gardens. They were making their way toward a Chinese tower she’d heard of and wanted to see. This time, she’d brought a maid along with her. Anna was her name. She trailed behind at an appropriate distance, so he and her mistress could speak with each other discreetly.
“I see you’ve decided to temper your pace for a change.”
“This park has a great deal to look at, Your Grace. The flower arrangements, for instance, are stunning. I fear I would miss most of it if we rushed.”
He tilted his head, acknowledging her appreciation for her surroundings. “Tell me, if you could do anything in the world, what would it be?”
He wasn’t sure where the question had come from, but the chance it gave him to learn more about her made him eager to know her answer.
She seemed to consider her response with care before saying, “I think it would be grand if I were able to invent a cure for smallpox.”
“Really?” He’d thought she’d say something far less serious, like that she would love to visit the pyramids or try to ride an elephant. But of course she wouldn’t. This was Sarah Townsbridge, the woman whose greatest wish was to help those in need. He really should have known better.
“There used to be six of us, you see.” She spoke with a wistful fondness, her voice conveying a loss wrapped in good and bad memories. “We Townsbridge children had another sister once. Claire was her name.”
A chill scraped his bones. He knew how this story would end and it wouldn’t be happily. And even though he hated the habitual words himself because they always seemed to fall flat, he couldn’t help but say, “I’m so sorry.”
“She was my identical twin,” Miss Townsbridge said. “I was six years old when she got sick and died. Mama says the sickness took her quickly, but according to my recollection, it went on forever. I remember everything from that time in various shades of black and grey. The house was not the home it is today, but rather a monstrous emptiness trying to devour us all. There was no understanding or acceptance on my part. I hated God for taking Claire from me. In some ways, I still do.”
“And yet you’ve managed to find peace beyond the grief.” He marveled at her ability to overcome such loss when his own continued to cripple him.
“I had my family. They suffered too so I wasn’t alone. And gradually, with time, I began to accept that nothing would ever be as it once was. Eventually, I moved on.”
“Because you stopped thinking about her as often?”
“Not at all. It was because I started talking about her, which prompted the others to join in, and soon, instead of this weight bearing down on my chest, I was able to smile over all the fun I’d had with Claire, if only for a brief time. I was blessed to have her in my life. We all were. I’ll always miss her. I think it’s the reason why I so often sit on the edge looking in, because I’ve never stopped feeling like half of me is missing, which is quite an awkward sensation to have. But it’s what lets me know she’s still with me. Right here.” She placed her hand over her heart. Then before Matthew could say anything she grinned. “Oh look. I think there are games over there. Come on.”
He quickened his pace to keep up with her, his mind still struggling to come to terms with what she’d just said. Surely there’d been a reason for it. A person didn’t bar
e their soul like that without cause. Did she know what had happened to him? Had she figured out why he felt the occasional need to flee?
His family’s death would be noted in the most current volume of Debrett’s. But few would make a connection. After all, it had been so long ago, most people would expect him to have gotten over it by now. But Miss Townsbridge wasn’t most people. He was starting to suspect she saw a lot more than anyone realized. Being on the outside always looking in, as she’d put it, would have made her a keen observer.
Matthew shivered. He didn’t want her digging around in his past or trying to save him. He wanted to keep the pain buried, and when it started to climb out of its hole, he wanted to stomp on it until it crawled back in.
Chapter Five
SARAH WASN’T SURE IF her comments had made an impact. What she did know was that they needed a fun distraction from the tragic story she’d decided to relate. Reaching a wooden crate filled with balls, she grabbed two - one red and one blue - and handed the blue one to Brunswick.
“Do you have a good throw, Your Grace?”
He glanced toward the wooden board roughly twelve feet from where they stood on which five holes were marked with different points. “I think I can manage.”
“Very good.” She tossed him a cheeky grin. “Will you go first or shall I?”
He swept his arm toward the target. “By all means.”
“All right then.” She stepped toward a wooden plank laid out to mark the line behind which she was meant to stand, and aimed for fifty points. The ball struck the edge of the hole before dropping onto the ground with a disappointing thud.
Blast.
“Ambitious, I see,” Brunswick murmured with a touch of humor. “Maybe you should have aimed for ten points instead.”
“Tease me all you like,” Sarah told him gamely as she stepped aside. “Let’s see how you do.”
A Duke for Miss Townsbridge Page 6