Lady of Charade

by St. Clair, Ellie

  “As a healer, I must be close to those who need me,” she said. “And I find that this is a neighborhood which bridges those who would come to a healer instead of a physician, and yet is not too threatening a place. It has worked well for me, I must say.”

  “But you are alone,” he stated, and she nodded, for she couldn’t very well deny it.

  “What if,” he continued, “The night I was placed upon your doorstep, I was someone else—someone who desired to take advantage of you?”

  “I don’t suppose there are many who would do so,” she murmured.

  “Whyever not?” he demanded, and she could see that he was actually concerned now. “You are a beautiful woman and one who must return to her lodgings late at night in fine gowns. You could not be more attractive to those who would be looking to steal from you or… more.”

  Sarah swallowed hard. “Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Redmond,” she said, though she knew he was simply being kind. She had seen the women he preferred, and she was far plainer than the lot of them. “However, I am well able to defend myself.”

  “Are you telling me that you know how to fire the shotgun that sits in the corner of your rooms?”

  “I do,” she said indignantly to his incredulous expression.

  “And how long would it take you to prepare the shotgun?” he asked, his eyebrows raising. “Longer, I’m sure, than it might be for someone to break into your door.”

  “I have other weapons,” she retorted.

  He shook his head. “Is there really no one who can watch over you? I had thought Lady Alexander was a relative? Have you no other family to rely upon while you search for the rest?”

  “My mother has passed,” she said quietly. “I have no siblings of whom I am aware. Lady Alexander has been kind, but she is unable to provide me any more support than she already does.”

  “I am sorry to hear of your mother,” he said quietly. “What of your father?”

  Sarah took a breath. She hadn’t intended to tell him of this, and in fact, she still hesitated to do so. But she had never been the type of person to whom dishonesty came naturally, and she was growing tired of living a lie. What was the worst that could happen now—she would be found out and have to return home to America? She was on the verge of doing so anyway.

  Somehow, despite his reputation, she had a feeling that she could trust David Redmond. She was keeping his secret—he must do the same for her. Perhaps he could even help. Although if Elizabeth’s husband hadn’t been able to provide any assistance, she wasn’t sure anymore if there was anyone who could. She took a breath.

  “My father is a lord,” she said, then bit her lip. “I just don’t know which one.”

  “Pardon me?” he said, his eyebrows rising in surprise.

  “I don’t know who my father is,” she said without meeting his eyes, but then forced herself to lift them. She had no reason to be ashamed—her mother had always been sure to tell her of that. It was not as though Sarah had asked to be born to a woman alone in the world. Which she certainly wasn’t. Sarah was proud of her mother and all that she accomplished, despite the circumstances she had found herself in.

  “I received a letter suggesting that I should find him, telling me that he was an English lord. I hesitated, but in the end, decided to do what I could to find him. Not because I want anything from him. I just… felt a need to know who he is.”

  She sighed, bringing a hand to her temple. “It’s been a long search now, and I feel that I am no closer than I ever have been to finding him.”

  Mr. Redmond simply stared at her as though she had told him she came from another world—which, she supposed, she did.

  “Please, Mr. Redmond, I beg of you—do not tell anyone else of this?” she asked. “I am invited to society events due to my association with Lady Alexander. Most assume, as you did, that I am a member of her family, and while I have never outright lied, I am ashamed to say that I have allowed the untruth to continue. However, I know not what else to do.”

  He slowly nodded and cleared his throat.

  “I must say, this is certainly the revelation,” he marveled. “Clarence knows all of this, does he not?”

  “Most of it,” she said, then looked at him more shrewdly, wondering how much Elizabeth’s husband had shared with him, if he was truly as surprised as he acted upon her confessions.

  “Well, then, you have the best man on your side, that is for certain,” he said. “I have never seen Clarence fail in anything.”

  That bolstered her spirits, though Sarah refused to raise her hopes. In all honesty, she was beginning to feel more than homesick—for America, yes, but also for the opportunity to live in nature once more, to be surrounded by the fields and forests where she could forage for the very things that allowed her to aid others. She missed being awakened by the birds seeming to call her name, by the sun streaming in from a window that was left open to the natural light and views outside her window. None of that could be found in London, and certainly not anywhere near her rooms. She was fortunate that she had made wonderful friends, but beyond that, she had no idea how her stay here would have been bearable.

  Not that she was going to tell Mr. Redmond any of that. She had shared enough.

  “You are here, then—alone?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at her, the expression one that could have been suggestive, had she not known better.

  “I am,” she said warily.

  “Cheapside may not be the most dangerous of neighborhoods,” he said slowly, as though he were contemplating her situation quite seriously. “But it still concerns me to think of you here by yourself, particularly when you will open your door to seemingly anyone.”

  “I knew who you were!”

  “Yes, but did you know it was me at first?”

  When she said nothing, he continued.

  “You did not. What if I was feigning sleep, and then rolled over to take you by knifepoint once you opened your door to me? What then? No, you cannot continue to stay here alone.”

  Sarah crossed her arms over her chest. Who did he think he was, that he could make proclamations about what she could and couldn’t do?

  “While I appreciate your concern, I do as I please, Mr. Redmond.”

  “So I am supposed to walk out that door, return to my own home, and forget that you are here alone, at risk? I think not.”

  He was becoming as angry as she, though why, she had no idea.

  “I have been just fine for the past nearly two years, and I will continue to be fine in the future.”

  He was shaking his head. “I have heard of many midwives and the like who have been taken advantage of. I will not allow that to happen to you.”

  “Why?” she questioned. “Why do you care?”

  “I just… do,” was his response, as he looked away from her, not meeting her eye. “Can you not stay with the Duchess of Clarence, or perhaps Lady Berkley?”

  “They have both been kind enough to offer me residence, but people come to me here in order to treat them, and I do not want to be far from them, in order that I might continue my work.”

  “Is there no one else who can look after them?” he asked as though he already knew the answer, and she shrugged.

  “I suppose there is, yes,” she said. “However, if I had not the purpose to help these people, then I would lose all reason to remain in England and would leave entirely. I promised myself two years to see this through, and I have nearly completed my timeline. Upon that, I will be returning home.”

  “Which would be?”

  Sarah opened her mouth to tell him, but then shut it just as quickly, using their return to her rooms as an excuse to give herself time to think of what she should say. She couldn’t explain why, but suddenly she feared what it would mean was she to tell him. Would he think less of her? She was aware of what some English felt about America, though that shouldn’t worry her. And yet, his opinion seemed to matter to her.

  “Far from here,” she finall
y settled on, allowing him to think what he chose as she turned the lock and opened the door for him.

  “Very well,” he said, apparently having decided upon something himself. “If you do not wish to move, then I shall have to stay here with you.”

  “Pardon me?” It was Sarah’s turn to exclaim. “You cannot stay here!”

  “Whyever not?”

  “You have a life—a family! You cannot leave it all to act as my protector. Besides that, were anyone to ever find out…”

  Sarah shook her head, not believing that he could even suggest such a thing.

  “I have already been here for two days and no one is the wiser. Who would ever determine such a thing? No one will be overly concerned about my whereabouts—trust me. My valet will think that I—ah, have found other lodgings for a time.”

  That he was staying with a mistress, no doubt, which Sarah determined she would never, ever become, despite how drawn to him she was.

  “You cannot stay,” she repeated.

  “Then find somewhere else to live,” he said nonchalantly, and she dug her nails into her palms. He irked her to no end.

  She reached out a hand to feel his forehead once more, hoping that if she focused on his treatment she might forget about him as a man. He was still warm, but certainly no hotter than before.

  “You seem to be getting much better,” she said. “Though I would like to keep an eye on that wound for one more night—one more only—if you will stay?”

  “A beautiful woman asks me to stay with her another night?” he asked with a cheeky grin, and she would have swatted him were she not afraid of injuring him any further. “Of course I will.”

  “Very well,” she said, though she was somewhat worried about what that might mean. “For tonight only.”

  Luckily, he did not seem inclined to try anything further, and he fell into sleep quite easily, as she had thought he might with the medication she had given him for pain, as well as his body’s requirement for sleep as it healed.

  She made sure to dress before he woke this time, and resolved to maintain formality as they parted that morning.

  “Time to go!” she said cheerily once he rose. “Return to your own home and give your family some peace by allowing them to be aware that no harm has come to you. I shall be fine. You take care of yourself.”

  She turned to her small table and began preparing a couple of small vials for him.

  “If you choose to see a physician, then so be it. Otherwise, ensure you change your bandages. I’ve included more potion for the pain.”

  She pointed to one vial, then the next.

  “The other is to apply to your wound when you change your bandage, which you must do—often. Ensure that your hands, or those of your valet, are clean when you do so.”

  She put both vials into his hand, his warm fingers closing over hers for a few seconds before she could pull them away.

  Neither of them said anything for a moment, until finally he cleared his throat.

  “Clean hands?”

  “Yes,” she said with a nod. “My mother always told me it helps in recovery. I have no idea why, but I am not arguing.”

  “Interesting,” he murmured. “Well, fortunately I will return here and you can see to me yourself later on, to ensure that I have followed your instructions accordingly.”

  “You do not need to return,” she said. “I have lived here on my own in perfect safety for quite some time now. Nothing has changed.”

  “On that, you are wrong,” he returned, holding up a finger. “For what has changed is that I now know you are here alone, and I could not sleep well at night knowing that you were here in danger.

  “I’m not in any dang—” she tried to protest, but he cut her off.

  “I will be back,” he promised, and she warily watched him leave, wondering if he would be true to his word—and whether or not she wanted him to be.

  Chapter Eight

  When David pushed open the door to his lodgings, Hampton was sitting upon a chair, darning a sock. He looked up and then rose as David entered, nodding to him with only the words, “Good morning, Mr. Redmond.”

  “Good morning?” David said with some shock. “That is all you have to say?”

  “Is there another matter to which I must attend?” Hampton asked as David practically stumbled into the room.

  “Ah, if you could go pay the hack I hired to convey me here, I would most appreciate it.”

  Hampton nodded, finding the petty cash David kept nearby and leaving to pay the man.

  David could hardly believe it. He had been gone a few days now, and his one servant did not seem to think it a noteworthy event? Sure, there had been times in days gone by where he had spent most of his nights with a mistress of one sort or another, but never had he simply been gone for both days and nights without warning.

  Hampton returned and resumed his duties as David stared down at him.

  “Did my parents inquire about me?”

  “I am sorry, Mr. Redmond, but in what regard?”

  “About my whereabouts,” David said, attempting to hold onto his patience. “You do realize I have not been home now for two nights?”

  “Ah, yes, Mr. Redmond,” Hampton said, then looked up at him conspiratorially. “I assumed you were… with company. But to answer your question, no, your parents have not inquired about you.”

  “Has… anyone else?”

  “No, Mr. Redmond.”

  David sat heavily upon the chair next to Hampton, who hurriedly collected his work and moved into his own sitting area. David rubbed at his temple. Not one person had worried about where he might have been. It made him feel slightly sick to his stomach.

  Was there really no one who cared enough about him to wonder as to his whereabouts? Or was it simply that his own usual habits were so careless that no one questioned the fact he had been out of touch for more than a couple of days?

  The fact was, no matter the reason, he had no one close enough in his life to take any notice. It shouldn’t bother him. This was how he wanted to live, was it not? Unencumbered, without having to answer to anyone? And yet… somehow it left him feeling altogether alone.

  He reflected on the two days and nights he had spent with Miss Jones, though much of it had been rather a blur, and the first night abbreviated. She had been concerned for him, taking note of his continued whereabouts, ensuring that he continued to become well. While clearly, she was doing so because he was a man in need of medical care, at the same time, he could admit that it was… comforting, in a way, to have someone there looking after him. He sighed. His injury was causing him to go soft in the head.

  David knew he did have some manner of wits about him, however, for another thought that wouldn’t leave his mind was the feeling of Miss Sarah Jones’ lips upon his. He couldn’t pinpoint just what it was about her that called to him. She did not seem to have any feminine wiles, no powers of seduction, practiced ploys, or artful methods of making herself up in order to catch the eye of a gentleman. Those were the women he typically pursued, for then he had far less fear of them asking for anything in return from him.

  Miss Jones was the type of woman he avoided—one who would only provide attention to a man she was interested in for more than a moment in time. She would be looking for commitment, for attachment.

  Her soft vulnerability, however, combined with that surprising touch of inner strength, was more enticing than he cared to admit.

  Then there was her story—so mysterious, and yet he had appreciated the fact that she had been honest with him. She was a lady of charade with her attempts to mask her true upbringing. If others within the ton found out she was actually the illegitimate daughter of a man within their set… there would be uproar, he was sure. He wondered what Lady Alexander had to gain from all of this. He reminded himself to ask Clarence what he thought of the fact that the woman had agreed to assist Miss Jones, and yet not completely support her nor look out for her best interests.


  For how could one leave a woman like Miss Jones to fend for herself in the middle of London? It was unheard of—and now left him with the responsibility to ensure she was safe. For he couldn’t very well leave her to her own defenses now that he knew that truth of her situation, could he? She had likely saved his life. At the very least, he could protect her.

  He took a deep breath. What scared him the most was the fact that looking out for her wasn’t the upsetting prospect he would have thought it to be.

  *

  Sarah finished cleaning her rooms, then placed her hands on her hips as she looked about her. It was strange, really, how Mr. Redmond had been within her chamber but two days and now it felt slightly bereft here without him.

  The truth was, she didn’t often treat her patients within her rooms—she usually went to wherever they needed her help. This had been quite an unconventional situation. The memory of their kiss swirled around her mind, and she shook her head in annoyance. It had been an accident. One that he was likely not even aware of. Why this dratted man was getting into her head, she had no idea, but she had to put an end to this, or she would be in trouble. For not only had she have no time for a dalliance, which is all there would ever be between them, but she also had greater matters to attend to.

  At that moment, a knock on her door revealed a messenger, and Sarah smiled at the boy, giving him a coin and sending him on his way before she opened the note, revealing it to be from Lady Alexander, telling her of a party that evening. It was rather short notice, but it was at the home of the Earl of Torrington—a man who remained on her list as one that could potentially be for whom she was searching.

  She would go, she decided, though she wasn’t sure she could stomach many more of these events. She hated carrying on the lie of who she was, where she had come from, and she no longer wanted to impose on Lady Alexander. She was losing heart in her quest, beginning to question why she had ever come here in the first place. Did it really matter who her father was, or whether she had any other family?

  But it did, came the quiet reminder from a corner of her heart. For she had no one else in the world. She did have her friends, true—and what great friends they had become. But they were growing their own families now, and while she knew they would always be there for her in whatever capacity she required, she longed for a greater tie to someone else.