As they approached the captain's table, Miss Finch was still standing in front of the table. Now, her fists were clenched, one on each hip, and she glared at Raymond.
Apparently, she'd already started her tirade.
“... And you thought you could pay me off with this?” she said, reaching into the pocket concealed in her gown.
Even from a distance, Sarah recognized the shape and glitter of the brooch. It was the one Adam had purchased.
She glanced at Adam. His expression was a mix of annoyance and shame.
Miss Finch continued, “You sent this to my room as what... payment for services rendered? Like I'm some whore?”
Raymond leaned back in his chair and yawned. Then his face assumed a haughty, tight-lipped smile.
Sarah had seen that face more times than she could count. It always meant the matter was closed, as far as Raymond was concerned. And, with his family's social standing, what Raymond decided, Raymond got.
Miss Finch threw the brooch onto the table, where it bounced off a wrinkled damask napkin and then landed hard on the floor.
Everyone watched, transfixed, as the brooch shattered into countless tiny shards.
Raymond glanced at Adam, amused, and then nodded with a smile. “Good choice, brother,” he remarked.
The gathering crowd stared at Adam, but only for a few seconds.
Miss Finch was not relinquishing center stage that easily. “It was glass? You didn't even have the decency to buy me something of value?”
Raymond gave a humorless laugh, and replied, “As you said, 'services rendered.' It was all you were worth.”
The crowd gasped, almost in unison. Even at the top-of-the-trees class level, such crass behavior was unthinkable.
Sensing a small victory, Miss Finch knew it was time for her parting line. Turning towards Sarah, she said, “This is how his lordship treats women. Pray that, as his wife, you'll fare better.”
Then, the actress turned and stomped out of the room. In the silence that followed, all Sarah heard was the clack of Miss Finch's shoes on the polished mahogany floor, and then the creak of the door before it slammed behind the actress.
The captain stood up, cleared his throat, and muttered something about the show being over. Then, in a clear voice, he ordered, “Champagne for every table, on the house.”
Conversation erupted almost instantly, as people milled back to their tables, occasionally glancing at Raymond and Sarah.
Raymond gestured at Sarah's empty chair. “Do sit down, my dear. The woman – like most of her kind – was delusional. I'd only met her when we boarded the ship, and sent her that trinket in appreciation of last night's performance.”
Sarah remained standing. In a low but crisp voice she replied evenly, “Enough is enough, Raymond. She hadn't performed last night. Not on a stage, anyway.”
Nearby guests gasped and whispered to each other.
Sarah knew she wasn't behaving well. Not as the docile female society expected. Not as a well-bred lady of the upper class, either.
She didn't care.
It was bad enough when she was privately humiliated by Raymond's bad behavior and many mistresses. But now, in front of so many people, and after he'd sworn to change his ways... this was too much.
She bolted for the door.
Over the whispers of the guests, she heard Raymond say in a studied, lazy drawl, “Adam, be a good lad and see if you can talk sense into her.”
That's when she picked up her skirt and started to run. And run. And run.
Several minutes later, she realized she'd probably passed her room. Or maybe she wasn't even on the right deck.
She found an empty card room, and – in the dark – leaned against the wall and sank to the floor, crying.
About ten minutes later, Adam entered the room carrying two glasses and a bottle of champagne.
“They were giving it away, and I thought you could benefit from a little bubbly.”
He sat on the floor next to her, his shoulder resting against hers. Then, as he uncorked the bottle, he announced, “My brother is an ass.”
Sarah half-sobbed as she nodded. “He is.”
Adam handed her a full glass, lifted his own, and clinked it against hers. “To the future. May it be far better than tonight.”
Sarah nodded and tossed back the champagne with one gulp.
Adam blinked. “Impressive. I don't think I've ever seen a woman drink like that.”
“I'll take that as a compliment.”
“Good girl,” he replied with a grin. “Seems like you're feeling better already.”
Sarah wasn't sure whether she leaned into him, or he was the one who moved first.
Either way, she was sure he was about to kiss her, so she closed her eyes and lifted her lips to him.
“Blast,” he muttered. “What am I thinking?”
Sarah opened her eyes and saw him scrambling to his feet.
As he opened the door to the hallway, he gazed back at her and said solemnly, “You deserve better.”
And then he was gone.
Sarah bit her lip. She'd been humiliated for the second time that night. Was he really going to kiss her, or had she only thought he would? Had she made a complete fool of herself?
She wanted to blame it on the wine, the events of the night, the champagne... anything.
But, in her heart, she knew the truth.
She loved Adam. She always had.
He had been her friend, almost a brother, throughout their childhood.
But now, as an adult, everything had changed. He had all the qualities she wanted in a husband.
As she sipped from her glass, the champagne suddenly seemed flat. Almost tasteless. Boring. Maybe even sad, like her life would be... without Adam.
But what he'd said, about deserving better? Was he speaking about Raymond, or himself?
Sarah gathered her skirts, stood up, and walked to the door.
She needed to know how Adam felt about her. Her happiness depended on it.
Chapter Nine
Raymond was stretched out on his bed, half-smiling as Adam lectured him.
Adam continued, “Sarah will be the very best wife for you. You know you can't find a better woman in England.”
Raymond yawned. “You're sounding like Father. We both know this is all about property. Our land. Sarah's family's land. Shared resources, and all that.”
Adam shook his head. “Is that all Sarah means to you?”
“No, she's a sweet thing, I'm sure. Never paid much attention to her, to be honest. She's always been... well, there. Rather like the furniture, y'know, and isn't that what a wife should be?”
“You're joking.”
Raymond rolled onto his side, propped himself up on his elbow and replied, “Why would I joke about something as tedious as marriage?”
“Sarah is like furniture to you?”
Raymond shrugged. “I rather think that's a compliment to her. She's... unobtrusive, if that's not too lofty a word. We get control of her family's land. She'll sure to produce an heir and perhaps an entire brood to keep her busy. Everyone's happy.”
Adam shook his head. “Your cynicism isn't flattering, and if this is humor, I'm sorry but it's missing the mark. By a lot.”
Raymond rolled back and stared at the ceiling. “Brother, your life has been far too tame. Go out and sample more women. I can even recommend a few, from personal experience.”
“No, thank you. I'm not interested in your cast-offs.”
“Fine. Let's not pretend that Sarah brings us anything besides an important piece of property and a somewhat pleasant demeanor.”
Raymond seemed oblivious to Adam's glare.
Raymond continued, “Oh, I'm happy to go along with this charade of being the devoted husband, at least for now, but as a lifetime role...? Never. My motto is, and always will be, 'Cherchez les femmes' of however those Frenchies say it. Chase the women!”
Adam stepped back, and glanced at
the door. “Sarah deserves better. I told her so, myself, just minutes ago.”
“Fine, you take her. I've heard that America is rife with rich heiresses. Most would leap at the chance to marry a man with a title.”
“You'd break off with Sarah, just like that?”
Raymond propped himself up on both elbows and retorted, “Of course I would. In fact, that's the plan, sailing to America and all.”
“What...?” Adam couldn't believe what he was hearing.
“Dear boy,” Raymond continued, “Go where the rich women are, and see if any bring more to the marriage than Sarah does. If one of them does, then it's 'goodbye Sarah'.”
“You disgust me.”
“Fine, then – as I said – you take Sarah. In fact, let's agree to that right now. I'll take my chances with those American heiresses. It's a logical solution.”
Adam shook his head and strode to the door. “No, you're the one engaged to Sarah, not me. You'll be facing the very worst social consequences if you betray her and marry someone else.”
Raymond guffawed. “It sounds like you're the one who's in love with Sarah. And I'm deadly serious when I say you should marry her.”
He leaned back and gazed at the ceiling. “Yes, I like this. In fact, it's a plan. We'll smooth things over when we get home. I mean it. Marry Sarah.”
Adam half-choked the words out. “And what will you do?”
“Me...? I'll find a good, stupid little heiress whose father will shovel buckets of gold at me, buying guaranteed titles for his daughter and grandchildren. So go. Marry Sarah. You deserve each other.”
Adam backed away with both hands up, as if rejecting everything Raymond had said.
Then, Adam swung open the door and shouted over his shoulder, “No, I will not marry Sarah, and this entire conversation disgusts me.”
His stomach lurched. He had to get away from Raymond. Otherwise, he might be tempted to do him bodily harm.
Adam stepped into the hallway, slammed the door behind him, and took a deep breath.
Then he realized Sarah was standing in front of him, with tears pouring down her cheeks.
As she turned and ran away from him, he panicked.
His mouth was dry as he tried to speak, but no words came out.
How much had she heard?
Chapter Ten
As the ship pulled into the harbor, Sarah remained in bed. Her breakfast, which Emma had sent to the room, went untouched.
When Emma returned, she tried to reason with Sarah. “Let's act as if nothing has happened. All you heard were snippets of conversation. It may have been about something else, and-”
“No, I know what I heard,” Sarah interrupted. “And I don't want to talk about it. I just want to go home.”
“You don't mean that. You've come all this way to see Father and Fred. You have to see Fred's new business. Even if things have gone pear-shaped with Raymond and... well, everything, Fred would be crushed if you sailed off without seeing him.”
Sarah sighed. Her sister was right.
Emma continued, “Besides, you said Raymond sounded drunk. Maybe he's sobered up and realized what a mess he's made of this.”
Sarah nodded.
“Cheer up. Raymond always comes back to you. You'll get him back. In fact, I'll wager that he'll honor his promises to you, ask Father's permission to marry you, and...,” her voice faded as she ran out of things to say.
“Please, Emma, don't even try to say that Raymond will turn over a new leaf and be a faithful and caring husband. We both know him better than that.”
Emma sighed and shook her head. “So, if he's the same cad he's always been, why are you so upset? Fine. This isn't a love match. If, in his cups, he said as much to Adam, what difference does it make?”
For a few minutes, Sarah stared at the satin comforter she'd kicked off the bed. Then, she gathered it up and smoothed it over the sheet in front of her, before putting her head firmly back on her pillow.
She knew her voice sounded calm – too calm – as she tried to explain the emptiness she felt, without sounding self-pitying.
“The difference is, the words were said and now I feel no obligation to him. We can all stop pretending. Raymond will find himself an American heiress. I'll sail home and start fresh. I may even have a Season.”
Emma raised an eyebrow.
Sarah retorted, “What? I'm not too old, if that's what you're thinking.”
“Actually, I was thinking you've left something out of this tale. Something that's upset you terribly.”
Sarah pulled the covers closer to her chin and closed her eyes, willing herself back to sleep. She hadn't told Emma about Adam's parting line, and she didn't intend to. Her heart was broken. That was enough.
Emma turned to check the dresser, making certain it was empty. “Fine. Let's not argue. After you're dressed, we can lock our luggage and have a steward take it to the lower deck.”
Sarah kept her eyes closed as she said, “There's no point. When this ship heads back to England in three days, I plan to be on it. Until then, an overnight bag will be enough.”
Emma snorted. “I give up. If you're determined to break things off with Raymond, do this right. Instead of hiding under the covers, tell the man.”
Sarah shook her head vigorously. She never wanted to see Raymond again.
Emma was insistent. “Sarah, he may care more than you realize.”
Sarah ignored her.
Then, Emma threw open the door, announcing, “Fine. I'm going to go get him, myself.”
After the door slammed, Sarah sat up and threw back the covers. As she changed into her morning gown, she muttered, “Fine, indeed. I'll get dressed. I'll tell Raymond he's free to... well, whatever his plans are. And then, after a brief stay in Boston, I'm going home. And getting my life back again.”
About 10 minutes later, Sarah was sitting in a wing chair by the fireplace. She was dressed and had loosely styled her hair. But suddenly, as she stared at the pair of stockings in her hand, she started to cry.
The door to the stateroom opened slowly, and Sarah heard Emma's voice in the hallway, saying, “I'll leave you two to discuss things, alone. Tell Sarah she can find me on the upper deck, when she's ready to talk about this.”
Sarah sighed, arranged her skirt to conceal her bare legs and feet, and shoved the stockings under the cushion next to her.
Then, she straightened her back and forced a thin smile, hoping she looked less distraught than she felt at that moment.
But, instead of Raymond walking through the door, it was Adam.
He looked rather rumpled, as if he'd slept in his clothes. “Emma said you needed to speak with me.”
“You...? I thought she was sending Raymond.”
Adam took a step back. “Oh, I can go wake him, if you'd like.”
Sarah sighed and slumped a little in her chair. “No, I may as well tell you. After all, you were part of last night's conversation.”
Adam sat on the edge of the nearest bed and looked at her with a downcast expression. “I'm so sorry you heard that. I wanted to explain-”
Sarah put up one hand. “No, let me say this and get it over with.”
She took a deep breath before continuing, “Raymond does not love me. I don't think I was ever in love with him. This has always been... well, a 'marriage of convenience' was the old-fashioned expression.”
Adam nodded.
“So,” she said after another sigh, “I've decided to end this charade. Raymond is released from any agreement he had with me or my family. He's free to find love – or at least a wife – here in America, as he suggested he would.”
Adam looked as if he wanted to speak, but then pressed his lips together.
What was he going to say? Sarah wondered.
Tell me that Raymond didn't mean what he'd said?
Say that I should give Raymond another chance?
Sarah stared at Adam.
Adam stared back.
The
only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock on the nightstand, until Emma swung open the stateroom door.
“Sorry,” she announced. “It's freezing cold outside. I need a wrap.”
Then she paused. She looked at Sarah, who was staring at her hands with an expression of misery.
Emma studied Adam's grim face, and then – staring pointedly at Sarah – tilted her head in his direction.
Sarah shrugged in bewilderment.
Emma's voice almost exploded in the room, “Oh for heaven's sake, Sarah, did you tell him... or what?”
Sarah stared back at her hands and muttered, “I told him that Raymond is free from our agreement. We're not engaged.”
Emma prompted her, “And...?”
“And I never loved Raymond. Ever.”
Emma repeated, “And...?”
Sarah blinked. What else was she supposed to say?
Then, Emma addressed Adam. “And what did you say?”
Adam shrugged and began studying his own hands.
Emma sputtered, “I have never seen such a pair of fools.”
She paced the floor, gesturing with her hands as she spoke. “Sarah, tell Adam you love him and you've been in love with him for as long as I can remember. Even if you didn't want to admit it because of Raymond.”
Before Sarah could reply, Emma continued, “And Adam, tell Sarah you've never loved anyone else but her, since the time you rescued her from that tree when you were both eight years old.”
Sarah's voice was a half-whisper as she explained, “Emma, you're wrong. I should have told you this, but – last night – Adam stood in front of me and said he'd never marry me. In fact, the suggestion disgusted him.”
That's all it took for Adam to spring to his feet. “Oh my dear, that wasn't what I was saying. What disgusted me was Raymond throwing you at me as if you were just another mistress he needed to placate. And then he'd marry... I believe his exact words were 'some stupid American heiress', or something like that.”
Sarah felt a tidal wave of emotions crashing over her. Suddenly, the room seemed to be spinning and – at the same time – she was sure she was about to burst into tears. She pressed her hand to her mouth, hoping to retain some dignity.
The Elusive Earl (Love At Sea Book 2) Page 4