“I have heard a rumor lately—one that involves the two of us,” he said, speaking now only to Lady Georgina. Lady Buckworth may remain, but that wouldn’t stop him from having his discussion with her daughter instead. “The rumor claims that we are to be married.”
Lady Georgina refused to meet his eye, but Lady Buckworth let out a laugh.
“A rumor? My dear, Mr. Redmond, it is not a rumor at all! Your parents, as well as Lord Buckworth and I, came to this agreement long ago. It is why we are even within London.”
David’s spine began to stiffen in anger, but he was aware that these were not the people with whom he should be upset. It was his own parents who knew of his wishes and went against them, regardless.
“That may very well be, Lady Buckworth, but no one’s consent is required but my own, and I do not agree to this marriage,” he swiveled his gaze back to Lady Georgina, and was startled to find that she was looking up at him with something akin to hope in her eyes. “Please accept my sincerest apologies, Lady Georgina. You seem like a truly lovely woman. It is only that my heart belongs to another.”
He heard his words spoken aloud, and, at that moment, consciously realized what he had known deep within him for some time now. He didn’t just care for Sarah. He loved her. He loved her with all of his being and he couldn’t imagine spending another moment, let alone the rest of his life, without her. Suddenly all he wanted to do was finish this conversation, leave this house, and tell her exactly that. If she knew how he felt, would she forget her plans to return to America, and forsake all of it to stay here with him?
He knew of her hatred of London, but perhaps, if he could find some land outside of the city, or talk to his father about living in one of their country homes, she might stay with him there. He had lived in London for most of his adult life now, of course, but primarily it was due to his desire to be on his own. He no longer had that need to be alone—there was a woman with whom he wanted to spend the rest of his life.
But first, Lady Georgina. David returned his attention to the women before him, each wearing an entirely different expression from the other. Unsurprisingly, Lady Buckworth’s lips were turned into a grimace, her eyes narrowed, her fingers gripping the arms of the chair so tightly that David imagined she would likely prefer they were currently around his neck. Lady Georgina, however, had her head tilted to the side, her lips curled up in a smile, as though she were happy for him—as if she understood.
“Is your mother aware of this… decision of yours?” Lady Buckworth asked through tight lips, and David nodded.
“I have been completely honest with her from the beginning, Lady Buckworth,” he responded, leaning forward in the chair, his elbows upon his knees as he attempted to convey his earnestness. “Both your family and Lady Georgina seem lovely, and whatever man becomes her husband will be most fortunate. I, however, am not that man.”
He stood, bowing slightly to the women.
“Please forgive me for any discord I have caused. This was never my intent.”
Lady Buckworth said nothing to him—no farewell at all. David would almost prefer angry words that he could respond to, rather than her cold silence, but he took the opportunity to escape as fast as he could.
He was halfway into his carriage, one foot within and the other still on the step, when he heard his name being called and he turned to find Lady Georgina running down the walkway.
“Mr. Redmond,” she gasped as she neared, as though she had sprinted the entire way—which he imagined she had, either to get ahead of her mother or because she had needed to make up time after making her excuses to Lady Buckworth. Regardless, he urged her to continue. “I apologize for my mother. You were nothing but honest with us, which I very much appreciate. And I—I understand.”
“You do?” he asked, raising his eyebrows, then, sensing the awkwardness of their positions, him so far above her on the steps, he gestured toward the interior of his carriage. “Would you like to sit within for a moment? I will leave the door open.”
She hesitated before nodding. “Very well,” she said, following him up, taking his proffered hand.
Once they were seated, he urged her to continue.
“I am happy for you and the fact that you have found a woman you truly love,” she said, surprising him. He had only had the opportunity to gauge her expressions earlier and he had hardly heard her speak more than three words at once the night they had dinner together, so it was nearly amazing to hear so many at one time now. “I…” she looked down at her hands shyly. “I have found love myself.”
“Have you now?” he asked, sitting back into the squabs, crossing his arms over his chest. This was certainly an interesting turn of events. “I am very pleased to hear that, Lady Georgina. Which leads me to ask—why would your parents arrange for you to marry me when there is another who has captured your heart?”
She paused for a moment, as though she didn’t know what to say until finally, her words caught his attention once more.
“You truly are not aware of the arrangement,” she said, her words not a question but rather a revelation, and he narrowed his eyes at her in puzzlement.
“Whatever do you mean?”
“Oh dear,” she whispered, and he leaned in closer.
“Please tell me.”
“As you may or may not be aware, my family is in some difficult financial circumstances,” she said, somewhat hesitantly. “My father squandered away his fortune on ill-advised investments, leaving my family to sell nearly everything we owned of any worth in an attempt to make it back. I have an older brother to whom all of the estates will be left, but he is already married, so there was no opportunity for him to wed a woman who would provide a substantial dowry.”
She stopped talking once more, looking down at her hands. David wanted to shake her, to tell her to continue, but he had enough sense to realize that was likely the last method one should use with a woman such as Lady Georgina—he was liable to scare her away. Instead, he waited, which did not come entirely naturally to him, but he was rewarded for his patience.
“I, of course, have no dowry, which is naturally a problem as I am a couple of years past what would be considered optimal marriageable age,” she said. “When my father was last in London, he was sharing his dilemma with your father, who in turn shared his own, as he thought they could come to a mutual understanding.”
“Of…”
“Of marriage,” she said with a sigh. “Unlike most arrangements, your father agreed to pay mine upon us wedding.”
David could only stare at her for a moment before he responded, though the words nearly choked him.
“Are you telling me that my father is so desperate to be rid of me, to see me married off, that he agreed to pay a dowry… for me?”
How embarrassing. How utterly debasing. If anyone ever found out about this…
“I’m not sure I would call it a dowry,” said Lady Georgina kindly. “Perhaps more of an agreement?”
David ran his hand over his face. Had he really been such an embarrassment to his father? And how did the man think that marriage would change him? Why did it matter?
“But what of your suitor, the man you say you love? Surely if he loved you an equal amount in return, he would pay the dowry for you?”
Lady Georgina looked out the window, her eyes far away.
“He absolutely would—if he could. Unfortunately, he has no access to any money that could even come close to paying a thing for me. He is… not from the nobility.”
“Who is he?” David asked, intrigued, and Lady Georgina’s cheeks turned bright pink.
“He is a footman within our homes,” she said softly. “We fell in love during the summer, when he was at our country estate. It continued throughout the winter. I cannot imagine my life without him, but I also cannot imagine a life with him. My parents, of course, forbid it.”
David sympathized with her. He was facing a somewhat similar dilemma, although he was in a bette
r position to do something about it if he so chose. Lady Georgina would likely be held to whatever her parents decided for her.
“I’m sorry,” he said, reaching out and placing a hand on her arm. “Truly, I am. If there is ever anything I can do to help you, please come find me.”
He gave her the address of his boardinghouse, and then she began to depart the carriage.
“My best wishes to you, Lady Georgina,” he said with a wave.
“And to you, Mr. Redmond.”
He hoped he wouldn’t need them.
Chapter Twenty-Five
It had taken some time, but finally, Sarah found the London townhouse where Lord and Lady Buckworth, as well as their daughter, the beautiful Lady Georgina, were staying. She was surprised when she saw it—if they were marrying their daughter to a son of the Earl of Brentford, she would have thought they would be far more wealthy a family. The house lacked any decoration, and had great uniformity with the houses surrounding it.
Not that it mattered—not to her anyway, she thought bitterly.
Sarah took a deep breath. She had been well aware of the hatred Lady Torrington felt for her—one did not need to be particularly emotionally understanding to realize that. She hadn’t been prepared for it, in a way. However, it was difficult to understand how a woman could hate someone who had nothing to do with the sequence of events that had ended thusly.
With that being said, as much as Lady Torrington’s final words had cut deeply into Sarah’s very soul, she was also aware that the woman would have said anything to cause her pain and to convince her to leave the house. Sarah’s only regret was that she had allowed the woman to see how much her words had affected her.
Before she permitted the pain to filter through to her heart by believing all the Countess had said, Sarah decided she would ascertain the facts. She could have asked David, of course, but Sarah had now allowed enough doubt to creep in that she wasn’t sure she would be able to believe what he told her.
So she decided to call upon Lady Georgina. She began to approach the house down the street but stopped when she saw a familiar carriage parked in front of it.
David’s carriage. But what was he doing here? She began to take another step forward, but then stopped when she saw a woman running from the house. She was beautiful, her dark hair in an intricate chignon, her dress worn yet still fitting beautifully around her willowy frame. She was chasing after David like a woman in pursuit of her love, and it seemed as though Sarah’s heart stopped beating.
Then she saw David stop at the top of the carriage steps, speak a few words with the woman, hold out his hand—and pull her inside.
Sarah could only stare at the scene in front of her. After thinking it through, she had been convinced that she would arrive here and be presented with one of two circumstances—either there would be no one living here by the name of Lord and Lady Buckworth, or she would speak with Lady Georgina, who would tell her that there was nothing between her and David—assuring her that it had all been Lady Torrington attempting to torture her further into believing the worst of David.
But now that she had seen the woman—with David—her gut wrenched as she realized that Lady Torrington had been right. And why wouldn’t it be true? David was the son of an earl. She had always known that a man like him would never truly be with a woman such as her. Yet with all of his charm, his words of care and concern for her, she had allowed him to convince her otherwise—that she was a woman he could be with for more than physical intimacy, that perhaps he could even fall in love with.
She had been wrong. She still had no doubts that he had been truthful—she was sure he did care for her, as he had said. Just as one could care for an acquaintance, a friend, or a mistress. The worst of it was that she had been well aware that this was how their time together could result, and she had given him all of her anyway—her body, her soul, her heart.
For she loved him. She knew it now by the way her heart seemed to be torn in two. She loved damn David Redmond, but she would no longer stay and be a dalliance for him while he was everything to her. She couldn’t—it hurt far too much.
As Sarah saw the beautiful skirts of the woman begin to emerge from the carriage once more, she finally realized what a fool she must look, standing here immobile as the world carried on around her. She picked up her own skirts—those of one of her best dresses, which she had donned to see her father, a man who clearly had no thought for her at all—and fled.
*
David whistled a merry tune as he walked up the Cheapside street to Sarah’s rooms. He was conflicted about Lady Georgina’s situation—he wished he could help her, yet he could not see how he was in any position to do so, besides marry her but yet allow her a relationship with her footman, a man he would have to hire on. That, however, was now inconceivable, for he had plans of his own.
He removed his gloves, noticing his palms were slightly damp in anticipation of seeing Sarah and asking her what would be the most important question of his life. He perhaps should have returned home first and spoken with his father, informing him of all that had transpired with Lady Georgina and Lady Buckworth, but at the moment he cared far more for ensuring Sarah knew just how important she was, how much he wanted—no, needed—her in his life.
If his father didn’t allow him to utilize one of his country estates—and at this point, David thought it more likely that they would cut him off entirely than actually provide him with anything after the conversation he had just had—then David was sure he could find himself and Sarah a small home in the country. It wouldn’t be much, for he would have to determine just how he was going to create income for himself, but he was certain that together, they could make anything work.
After she hopefully agreed to marry him, he would take her to see the Earl of Torrington. He wasn’t sure what the man’s reception to her would be, but at the very least, David would be there to comfort her if necessary.
David knocked on the door but was disappointed when no ensuing answer came, so he pulled out the key Sarah had left him with and let himself in.
His jaw dropped open in surprise at the scene before him. Sarah was standing in front of her wardrobe, rifling through the fantastic, colorful array of dresses, pulling out only the most utilitarian, drab dresses he had ever seen and throwing them into a heap on the floor behind her, under which, he finally realized, lay her valise.
Her hair was unpinned, flowing down her back, while the rest of the room was in shambles. Her herbs and bottles of concoctions were on the floor beside the valise along with her shotgun and three daggers, while everything else was piled in the corner.
On the small desk lay pieces of paper, each covered in her soft, feminine writing.
She was leaving. The revelation took far longer than it should have to filter through his mind, but once it did, waves of disappointment crashed through him unlike anything he had ever felt before. She couldn’t leave—not yet, not until he had said to her all he needed to say.
“Sarah?” he finally called out, and she turned, shocking him when she did, for her face was covered in tears that she angrily and hurriedly brushed away.
David strode across the room in moments, but when he reached his arms out toward her, she stepped away and around him.
“Whatever is the matter?” he asked, shocked at all that lay before him. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going home,” she choked out finally, her words as brusque as her current actions. “Where I never should have left.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked, wondering whatever could have happened between the time he left her and his return. “Were we not going to visit Lord Torrington?”
“I have been to the Torringtons’,” she said, crouching now beside the old, tattered, and patched valise, roughly folding her dresses and skirts and shoving them into the bag as she spoke. “I have my answer. Now it is time to go.”
“I thought you were going to wait for me?” he said, perplexe
d. When had she spoken to Torrington? There was only a short timeframe between when David had left the man and then returned to Cheapside. What could Torrington have said in that space of time that would have so upset her? While David had his doubts whether the man would accept her, he thought Torrington was a decent enough sort who would have done so much more gently than others would have. But by Sarah’s reaction, it was as though the man had dumped her out on the street without a word of explanation.
“You have done enough for me,” she said, looking up at him for a moment, long enough for him to see the spark in her eyes, shining through her tears. “I release you from your duties.”
“You never held me to anything,” he said, attempting to maintain his own calm reason. “I chose to be here—to be with you.”
“Because you felt beholden to me. Because I saved your life. And then, because I allowed you into my bed.”
The room seemed to be spinning around David. Where had this woman come from? For this was not his Sarah, the woman he had come to know, had come to love. No, his Sarah was gentle, kind, loving, and rational.
But then, this was clearly not a typical circumstance.
“Sarah,” he said cautiously, taking a slow step toward her. “I am not here because I feel beholden to you in any way. Nor am I here to take you to bed.”
“Ah, you are done with me then,” she said with a curt nod. “Very well. I understand.”
David rubbed his forehead. Never before had he the occasion in which he had to convince a woman of his feelings toward her, for never before had he had any feelings for a woman that were beyond the intimacy she was describing.
He wished he were a man like Clarence, who could find the correct words for every moment. His own always came across so trite.
“Sarah,” he attempted again. “I am here for you. Whatever has happened, please tell me, and I will do all I can to help you.”
“Very well,” she said, rising and crossing her arms over her chest as she stared at him. “I visited Lord Torrington’s home and was told that he was aware of my existence but that he had no desire to want anything to do with me. That my mother was a harlot who he compromised, and then the family forced her to leave due to her situation. Does that tell you all that you need to know?”
Lady of Charade Page 18