Tempting Sarah

by Gayle Buck

  Mrs. Jeffries stared at her, wide-eyed and bewildered. “Yes, my lady. I understand. At least—but I shall do it, of course.”

  “Be sure that you do. I shall hear otherwise if you fail me. And you will not like the consequences of that, I am quite certain,” said Lady Alverley warningly. “Now you may take your leave. I am an old woman and this situation has profoundly overtaxed me.”

  Mrs. Jeffries rose at once, profusely apologizing for impinging upon her ladyship. Seconds later, she had exited. Her manner at leave-taking was almost that of a prisoner who had received a stay of execution.

  Sarah looked at her grandmother, a faint frown pulling together her brows. “What are you trying to accomplish. Grandmama? You have practically bullied Mrs. Jeffries into compliance with your wishes.”

  “I wanted to stop that woman’s mouth, Sarah. Elizabeth Jeffries has panicked. She would have taken her lamentations and protestations to every ear that she could have gotten to listen,” said Lady Alverley. She gave a sudden, bitter laugh. “And those ears would have been plentiful, I assure you! This is just the sort of on dit that this town thrives on. There will still be questions, but now, hopefully, there will also be a reasonable explanation for Captain Jeffries’s sudden removal from town that might be halfway believed.”

  “But what of Margaret, ma’am?” asked Sarah quietly.

  “I have consulted with Marie. We have decided that our best course is to put it about that Margaret has been coming on for a bad bout of the measles. More than one acquaintance has made comment to me that Margaret has not been herself lately. It will be believed that she has been hard hit by the disease. There have been a few scattered cases, and fortunately Marie recalled that Margaret had actually spent the afternoon recently with Lady Frobisher and her children, who are now known to be suffering from the disease. Naturally, it has been my judgment to remove Margaret from the putridness of the town air. She will have been taken down to your father for nursing and proper recovery,” said Lady Alverley.

  “But what of me? How can I be expected to continue to go about in society if I have supposedly been exposed to measles?” objected Sarah.

  Lady Alverley smiled triumphantly. “My dear Sarah, you had the measles when you were quite small! I recall it distinctly. I was preparing to make one of my rare visits to your parents, when your mother wrote to me, warning me that you had come all over with spots.”

  Sarah thought about it very carefully. She could see how the story, flimsy as it was, might possibly work. Then she shook her head. “This is all very well, Grandmama. But it is only a delaying tactic, when all is said and done. It will still come out that Margaret eloped with Captain Jeffries.”

  “We must hope that it does not do so, however, until the Season is over and you are established. Then let the gossips talk to their hearts’ content. The summer is long enough to wear out even the most titillating of tales,” said Lady Alverley dismissively.

  “What of the servants, ma’am? Have you given thought to them?” asked Sarah. “Holby went with Margaret, I am sure of it. There must already be rumors flying around, for you were quite overset when I came up to visit you in your dressing room, while Herbert knows full well that my sister’s note to me contained bad news.”

  Lady Alverley frowned. “Yes, Marie pointed out the same difficulties. But I do not think that they are insurmountable. My dresser will attest to anyone who has the impertinence to inquire that I was vastly put out over a gown which I ordered and which was found to be atrociously cut. I shall have to send a stiff note to my modiste to give greater credence to the story, of course, but I drop such sums in the woman’s shop that she will swallow whatever outrageous blame I may accuse her of.”

  “That is perfectly horrid,” said Sarah.

  “Perhaps, but it is also convenient. As for Herbert, I shall speak to him myself.” Lady Alverley smiled. The cold expression had returned to her eyes. “Believe me, if he wishes to remain as my butler, he will do his utmost to put a stop to any speculation that the servants under his sway may have the audacity to utter.”

  Sarah left her grandmother soon after to get ready for the first public appearance that she was to make without her sister. It was a picnic to which both she and Margaret had been invited, and it was a harrowing hour and a half for Sarah as she began putting into place the story that Lady Alverley had concocted. Fortunately, Miss Hanson accompanied her and bolstered her report with little details of her own. By the time that the picnic was over, Sarah had accepted several sincere wishes for her sister’s speedy recovery. She was profoundly relieved to be able to take her leave at last and return to the town house.

  In the carriage, Miss Hanson commended Sarah for her performance. “I was very pleased with your display of sangfroid, Sarah. I shall inform Lady Alverley of the consummate way that you handled even the most difficult of questions.”

  Sarah accepted the compliment with mixed emotions. She was not used to uttering falsehoods and it had gone hard against the grain for her to do it. “I wish that we were not forced to this subterfuge,” she said.

  “Quite! But we have no other choice. Remember that, Sarah,” said Miss Hanson firmly.

  Upon their return, the ladies found out that the plot had thickened.

  A second housemaid was found who was of a similar height to Margaret. She was dressed in Margaret’s clothes, a bonnet and a veil drawn closely about her face, and another maid was attired in traveling clothes. The two were handed up into one of Lady Alverley’s traveling chaises and bid farewell by Lady Alverley herself. The two maid servants were to be let off at a remote inn, where they could catch a mailcoach and go on an extended holiday to their respective relatives.

  Lady Alverley told Sarah with satisfaction that as far as anyone was concerned, it had been Margaret who had been sent off in the chaise.

  “This is all very well, ma’am, but what of Margaret? I am concerned for her,” said Sarah.

  “I have no doubt that your sister is faring well or we would have heard otherwise,” said Lady Alverley. “This little performance was just to still any rattles who might be inclined to believe that it was no coincidence that Captain Jeffries and Margaret should disappear from town at the same time. In fact, I made certain to wave to two personages passing by so that they stopped to talk with me as the carriage carrying our false Margaret was bowling out of town.”

  “You amaze me, ma’am,” said Sarah, shaking her head. “I never thought of taking the subterfuge to such elaborate lengths.”

  “People believe what they want to believe, facts to the contrary. Margaret was well liked, and we now have witnesses who will sincerely declare that they themselves saw her leaving town. There are malicious tongues, of course, but the majority will accept that Margaret was in that carnage and that everything has happened just as we have said,” said Lady Alverley.

  The next few days were uncomfortable for Sarah. She fielded several questions over her sister’s welfare, laughingly disclaimed her own risk of infection since she had had measles as a child, and altogether upheld Lady Alverley’s fiction.

  “But surely your sister had the measles at the same time, Miss Sommers? That is usually how it happens. One child contracts the disease and then the whole nursery has them!” said one lady.

  “I had the measles before my sister’s birth, my lady,” said Sarah with a smile. “Margaret had always considered herself to be fortunate that she had missed taking the childish complaint, at least until now!”

  The lady laughed. “Yes, I can well imagine! Well, it is to be hoped that she is not left with horrid scars on her face. Margaret was such a lovely girl!”

  Sarah wrote to her father, breaking the news of Margaret’s elopement as gently as possible. She did not really expect to receive a reply and so when a letter came for her from her father’s hand, she was greatly astonished. She broke it open and spread out the single sheet. After she read it, she went immediately to her grandmother’s dressing room where Lady Alv
erley was getting ready for the evening. “Grandmama, I should like a private word with you.”

  Lady Alverley took one look at her face and dismissed her dresser. When the woman had exited, she turned to her granddaughter. “What is it, Sarah?” she demanded. “You look rather pale.”

  “Perhaps you should read it for yourself. It is a letter from my father,” said Sarah, giving the sheet over to her ladyship.

  Lady Alverley quickly made herself mistress of the letter’s contents. She folded it thoughtfully and returned it to Sarah. “Make certain that you put that in a safe place. I would not wish its contents to become common knowledge among the household.”

  “No, indeed,” agreed Sarah. “I shall lock it in my jewel box. It appears that Margaret was not completely lost to all convention after all.”

  Lady Alverley managed to smile. “That is the only beam of light that I have had in this whole business. At least she did not run off to Gretna.”

  “No, she went home,” said Sarah quietly.

  “It occurs to me that Margaret is a very strong-willed young woman,” remarked Lady Alverley.

  Sarah laughed. “Yes, she is! Captain Jeffries had not appeared to me to be easily persuadable to anything, and yet Margaret managed to persuade him to go down to meet Papa.”

  “Your father’s reservations over the marriage are plainly stated. I would have thought that he would have refused his consent when Margaret appeared on the doorstep with Captain Jeffries in train,” said Lady Alverley, her lips tightening a little.

  “And what would have been the result, ma’am? A flight to Gretna, after all?” asked Sarah. She shook her head. “I know Margaret well enough to realize that she would not have been balked at that point.”

  “Nor would have Captain Jeffries,” said Lady Alverley thoughtfully. “He is said to be a brave man, having already distinguished himself on the field of battle. In all honor, he would not have relinquished Margaret and left her to utter ruin. I imagine that he stated the matter rather forcibly to your father.”

  “Poor Papa! Dragged away from his books by high drama to attend a hastily contrived candlelit marriage ceremony,” said Sarah, laughing again.

  “Did he not say that after they were wed, Captain Jeffries and Margaret had formed the intention of leaving England for the Peninsula?” asked Lady Alverley.

  “Yes, I believe so. Captain Jeffries was shortly due to return to duty in any event.”

  “That is very good,” approved Lady Alverley. “In a few weeks’ time, we shall be able to announce their marriage in all good conscience and that will be the end of it.”

  “I shall be glad of it, ma’am. These half-truths and lies come unhandily to my tongue,” said Sarah honestly.

  “A little while longer, Sarah, for Margaret’s sake as well as your own.”

  * * *

  Chapter 23

  Throughout the trying period, Lord Eustace proved himself to be a strong co-conspirator. He called frequently at Alverley House to offer himself as an escort for Lady Alverley and her granddaughter whenever one was required. His attentions toward Sarah began to be remarked upon by a few mutual acquaintances. It was agreed that Miss Margaret’s removal from town had given the elder Miss Sommers the opportunity to shine in his lordship’s estimation.

  Lord Eustace referred to the elopement only once, as he was driving Sarah back home from the park, and then only to compliment Sarah on Lady Alverley’s masterly handling of a difficult situation. “There has not been a whisper of scandal. Your sister should thank God on her knees that she has Lady Alverley in her corner,” he commented.

  “She is Mrs. Jeffries now,” corrected Sarah.

  “Indeed!” Lord Eustace glanced quickly at her. “Have you had word from her, then?”

  “I have had a letter from my father. My sister and Captain Jeffries threw themselves upon his mercy. They were married from our home under the auspices of a minister, a special license, and with my father’s permission,” said Sarah.

  “A respectable ending for all concerned,” said Lord Eustace. “Does the happy couple return to town?”

  Sarah shook her head. “Captain Jeffries was due shortly to return to duty. My sister accompanied him to his post.”

  “I am certain that must come as a relief to Lady Alverley, and to you, of course. It is now all neatly buttoned up,” said Lord Eustace.

  “Yes,” agreed Sarah.

  Lord Eustace was silent for a moment. His hands expertly guided his horses through the busy street toward Alverley House. “My mother mentioned that Lady Alverley called on her a day or two ago. Lady Alverley let drop the interesting information that you have had at least two respectable offers this Season, which you have rejected.”

  Sarah flushed. She wondered what her grandmother’s motive could have been for revealing that personal fact to Lord Eustace’s parent. It also amazed her that his lordship had repeated it to her. That was certainly a breach of convention. “That is quite true, my lord.”

  “May I know why you turned away those gentlemen?” asked Lord Eustace quietly.

  Sarah turned right around to stare at him, amazed at his boldness. A touch of anger entered her eyes. “Is this to be a sharing between friends, my lord?”

  Lord Eustace opened his mouth, as though he meant to say something. Then he appeared to change his mind, and he said nothing.

  Sarah was disappointed that he had not taken up her challenging statement. She shook her head. “I am sorry, my lord! In this instance, I prefer to preserve my privacy!”

  “I quite understand,” said Lord Eustace unemotionally. He guided his team to the curb and snubbed the reins.

  “Do you, indeed!” Sarah stared at him. “I wonder whether you do, my lord!” She swiftly turned on the seat and, catching up her skirts, jumped down to the pavement.

  Without glancing back, Sarah started quickly up the steps of the town house. She was startled when Lord Eustace caught her elbow and firmly escorted her inside. She would have turned in the entry hall to say good-bye, but he did not give her the opportunity.

  Lord Eustace nodded a greeting to the butler. “Miss Sommers and I shall be in the drawing room, Herbert. Pray see that we are not disturbed.”

  “What are you doing?” exclaimed Sarah furiously.

  Lord Eustace did not reply, but only directed her unwilling steps into the drawing room. Releasing her, he turned the key in the plate, locking the door. “There! Now we will be assured of privacy.”

  While Sarah was still staring at him in speechless consternation, Lord Eustace pulled her into his arms. “No!” she exclaimed, pushing at him.

  “Yes!” Lord Eustace kissed her lingeringly. Sarah’s resistance abruptly melted. His palms came up to cup her face. When he drew back, he said, “I’ve wanted to do that properly for a long time.”

  “Why didn’t you?” whispered Sarah.

  Lord Eustace sighed and dropped his hands to her shoulders. “I held back because I did not know what you would think. I had made it so plain that I was infatuated with your sister. On top of it all, I behaved like a fool the first time that I kissed you. I was afraid that you would reject me, turn away from me in disgust.”

  Sarah shook her head. “I would never have turned away.”

  His hands tightened on her shoulders almost painfully. “Sarah! How can you forgive me? I thought that I was in love with your sister. When I lost her, I offered for you out of pique and wounded pride. How can you forgive such an insult?”

  “Insult? Yes, I was insulted. But the hurt was worse. It was so difficult for me.” Sarah looked up into his eyes and a smile trembled on her lips. “I already loved you, you see. I had done so almost from the first. When I realized that it was Margaret that you had eyes for, I thought that I could not bear it. But I had to, for she is my sister and I wanted only her happiness. I thought—I thought that your friendship was all that I could ever hope for. And a half loaf is better than none, is it not?”

  “I was a rank
fool!” exclaimed Lord Eustace, turning away from her and running his fingers through his hair. “I thought that I had fallen in love with Margaret, but it was only an illusion born out of the strange miasma of my soul.”

  Sarah clasped her hands together. “It was Miss Leander, wasn’t it?”

  Lord Eustace turned quickly. “Why did you ask me about her that evening? How did you know?”

  “It wasn’t really difficult. I began to suspect—there were certain things that you said. It wasn’t really Margaret you were in love with, but Vivian Leander,” said Sarah. She drew in a steadying breath. “And it is Miss Leander whom you are still in love with.”

  “No!” The word was ejected forcefully.

  Sarah started at his vehemence and stood staring at him with questioning eyes.

  Lord Eustace faced her, his whole frame tense. “Pray listen to me, Sarah. I am not in love with Vivian Leander. I know now that I never was. I was infatuated with her, yes, enough to have contracted her hand.”

  He gave a bark of appalled laughter. “My God! When I recall what I went through when I realized the mistake that I had made! She was beautiful, spoiled, completely self-absorbed. She cared nothing for me. Once we were formally engaged, she told me that she wanted nothing from me but my name and my fortune. She suggested that after we wed I should acquire a mistress, for she had no intention of sharing my bed. She hinted that she might produce an heir, but it would not be my child. I repulsed her, you see. She wanted someone else, someone ineligible, but she had to settle for position and fortune.”

  Lord Eustace had spoken swiftly, a hard edge to his voice, but Sarah could see the shadows of hurt in his eyes and expression. She put out a hand to him. “My lord!”

  He threw up his hand. “Wait! There is more. I must tell you of the rot in my own soul, so that you will understand. I was trapped by convention. I could no more draw back from the betrothal than I could have flown across the Channel. The nuptial agreements were signed and the bride-price delivered. The announcement had been published. The invitations to the wedding had been sent out. Then Vivian was killed in the carriage accident. And I was glad! Sarah, I was glad! For just that short moment when I was told, all I felt was an immense wave of relief. The nightmare was over. So I thought!”