The Legendary Lord

by Valerie Bowman

  Sarah couldn’t help the smile that popped to her lips. “I would have liked to see the look on his face if I had.”

  “As would I,” Lucy replied with a conspiratorial grin.

  Sarah stood, turned around, and smoothed her skirts. There was no use wishing things had gone differently. All she could do now was face the future with courage. “What’s going to happen now, Lucy?”

  Lucy tapped a finger against her cheek. “If I don’t mistake my guess, Berkeley is downstairs in the study with your father, writing your marriage contract.” She smiled. “All things considered, I would not make his wedding night easy for him.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  The archbishop was a tall man with white hair, grand white robes lined with sable, and a permanently unsmiling face. Sarah had watched out the window from her bedchamber as the prelate arrived at her father’s town house at approximately eight o’clock that evening. Apparently, when a duke, an earl, and a viscount required his presence, the archbishop complied. The Duke and Duchess of Claringdon were there, as were the Earl and Countess of Swifdon. Along with Sarah’s parents, Hart, and Meg, they were the only witnesses. Lucy Hunt was smiling from ear to ear.

  Sarah’s bridegroom, while devastatingly handsome—which was annoying given the circumstances—looked somber. A bit as though he might vomit, actually. Which was exactly the way Sarah felt. How in heaven’s name had she gone from complying with her parents’ wishes and trying to do the right thing to becoming the biggest scandal in London—all in the space of a few hours? Her mother could only sob quietly, and her father looked right through her as if she didn’t exist. But Sarah knew he’d approved the wedding—demanded it, according to Lucy—or it wouldn’t be taking place.

  The archbishop read the same words that the bishop had read earlier, and Sarah’s head hurt remembering that she’d attempted this same sacrament just hours earlier with an entirely different man. The world had obviously gone mad. What sort of a fickle changeling was she that she was agreeing to this? She was a coward. She let her parents tell her what to do and when to do it. But hadn’t that always been the way? Do what you’re told, Sarah.

  She might have to marry Lord Berkeley because of the damage that had already been done to her reputation, but she didn’t have to like it. Of course, she’d been informed that Lord Branford had promptly cried off, disgusted and disgraced by the hoyden he’d nearly married. Father hadn’t put up a fight at all. Apparently, he’d readily agreed to end the contract and let Lord Branford go in order to more quickly move on with the contract with Lord Berkeley.

  They’d spent the afternoon going over it, Lucy had informed her. And now, what? Sarah was supposed to be pleased? Thankful that she’d been saved from her own reputation? A small part of her realized that she’d brought all this on herself. If she hadn’t run off to Scotland to begin with, she wouldn’t be in the situation she was in now. But she’d nearly got away with it. She had been moments from putting the past behind her, and then Christian had gone and done the most incomprehensible thing in the world.

  She’d sat in her room alone, quietly, after Lucy left. Sarah had had hours to think this afternoon. And that’s just what she’d done. She thought about her mad trip to Scotland, her return to England, Christian’s transformation into a legend among the ton, and their time together in Surrey. Finally, she’d determined she would marry Lord Christian Berkeley. It seemed she had no other choice, but she knew she did. She could run away again, from all of them. Leave and never come back. But the truth was that after all that had happened and even after what he’d done today, she loved him. She loved Christian. Whether he ever was able to say it back, she knew she loved him with her whole heart. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t incensed with him.

  “Wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife?” the archbishop intoned.

  Christian’s face was a mask of stone. He looked as though he already sorely regretted his decision.

  “I will,” he replied solemnly.

  “Wilt thou take this man to thy lawful wedded husband?”

  The words stuck in her throat. Christian tensed beside her, obviously worried that she would say no. Or flee. Even after all that had happened, she couldn’t do that to him.

  “I will,” she replied just as solemnly.

  There were more words, more vows, but Sarah didn’t hear them. All she could hear was the pounding of her own heart as her life was linked inextricably to the man standing at her side. A completely different man from the one she’d expected when she’d climbed out of bed this morning.

  “I pronounce that you are man and wife,” the archbishop declared.

  There was a bit of clapping, some hugs, and some congratulations and best wishes. But Sarah didn’t remember any of that, either. There was a wedding dinner, quite out of the ordinary, given that weddings were usually held in the morning. But the group ate, toasted, and drank wine. By far the most joyous people in the room were the duchess and her set, while Sarah’s parents glowered at everyone else. All the while, Sarah couldn’t even look at her new husband seated next to her.

  An hour later, she woodenly got into a coach that was set to take her to Viscount Berkeley’s London town house. Her new town house. She was a viscountess now. Her trousseau, the one she’d picked out for a life with Lord Branford, was loaded onto the coach and the conveyance rolled off.

  When they arrived at Christian’s town house, he waited for the footmen to pull down the steps, then he got out and helped her down. He tucked her arm over his and escorted her up the stairs into the foyer.

  The butler was pleasant. The housemaids smiling. The house was finely decorated and smelled clean and fresh. And slightly … masculine, a little like her new husband. All of the servants bowed and welcomed her. But Sarah was still in a daze. The footmen rushed about to carry her trunk to her room. Her new husband showed her to her bedchamber on the second floor.

  “I’m directly next door … if you need anything,” Christian said.

  “I never want to see you again.” Sarah promptly walked into the room, shut the door, and locked it.

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  Christian was out of the house the next morning long before his bride was awake. He proceeded to complete every errand that needed attention, including several matters that would normally be seen to by the servants. Then he spent a sweaty midmorning fencing at the club. Finally, he ended up at Brooks’s, where he stared sullenly into a glass of brandy that he barely drank. Some of the other patrons gave him odd looks. Apparently, the story had traveled fast. He’d known it would. But no one approached him or said anything. Good. The way he was feeling today, he might bloody well punch one of them in the face if they so much as coughed in his direction.

  He didn’t blame Sarah for being angry with him. He wasn’t certain why he’d done what he’d done. He only knew that he’d had to stop the ceremony. Knew it wasn’t right. Knew he couldn’t sit there in an uncomfortable church pew and watch the woman he loved—and he was quite clear on that score now—marry another man. He’d thought she loved him, too. But she certainly was angry.

  Upton slid into the seat next to him. Christian hadn’t even heard the man approach.

  “I hear congratulations are in order,” Upton said.

  “Yes,” Christian replied woodenly, pushing his glass back and forth on the tabletop between his palms.

  “You’ve got to be the most unhappy bridegroom I’ve ever laid eyes upon. And what in God’s name are you doing here of all places? Shouldn’t you be, say, in bed with your new wife?”

  “My new wife doesn’t want me in her bed,” Christian ground out.

  “That bad, eh?” Upton replied.

  “I merely interrupted her wedding, ruined her reputation, and brought the censure of her parents and friends down on her head. Not much.”

  “Yes, it does sound a bit dramatic. Seems you might have picked a better time and place, but the point is that you love her, don’t you?”
>
  “Madly.”

  “Have you told her?”

  “No.”

  Upton slapped his palm against his forehead. “Why not?”

  “Again, the ruination of her life. Even when followed by the words I love you. It makes them sound a tad insincere. Oh, and there’s also the bit where she told me she never wanted to see me again.”

  Upton winced. “Sometimes ladies need time. Whenever Jane’s angry with me, I give her time and plenty of space.”

  Christian slid his glass over to Upton. “That’s exactly what I intend to do.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  On the second day after her wedding, Sarah awoke, rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and sat up. The events of the last few days came rushing back to haunt her. She groaned. She hadn’t seen Christian yesterday. He’d left early and been gone till long after she’d retired. She’d spent the day alternately worrying and exploring her new home. She’d met all the servants and spoken at length to the housekeeper. Being the lady of a great home was a role she’d been born to. It seemed only natural that she begin immediately. Everyone had been perfectly lovely and welcoming. She was already feeling at home.

  When Christian hadn’t returned by dinnertime, she began to regret her last words to him. I never want to see you again. They were harsh and said in anger and untrue. Of course she wanted to see him again. They were married, for heaven’s sake. They needed to speak. They needed to decide their future. The night of their wedding, Lucy’s words had hammered in Sarah’s skull. You must not allow life to happen to you. She’d decided that day that she wasn’t going to allow life to happen to her. Not anymore. Never again. Do as you’re told, Sarah. Those words held no power over her any longer. She’d been angry. She’d been sad. She’d been a hundred other things. But she wasn’t about to marry someone she didn’t want to marry. She’d sooner flee to Scotland again and never return. And so it was with a fully determined—if still outraged—mind that she’d stood in front of the archbishop that night and allowed the wedding to proceed. But when they’d arrived at his town house and Christian had shown her to her room, the anger she’d felt earlier had flared and she’d lashed out at him. She hadn’t expected him to take her words so literally.

  Her gaze fell on a note sitting on her bedside table. It was folded and sealed with Christian’s stamp. Dread clutched her heart. She slowly pulled it off the table and unfolded it, breaking the seal with her finger. Christian’s handwriting filled the page.

  Dearest Sarah,

  I know you have no wish to see or hear from me. I intend to honor your request. I’m going to Northumbria for a few days and then on to Scotland. It’s inadequate, I know, but my deepest apologies for everything I’ve done. I hope someday you can find it in your heart to forgive me. For what it’s worth, I do love you, hopelessly.

  Christian

  Tears spilled down Sarah’s cheeks, and she read the letter over and over. He loved her? He loved her, the lout? He’d handled everything awfully and been a complete idiot, but none of that mattered anymore. He loved her.

  But he was gone. She’d driven him away with her disapproval. What did she expect him to do when she’d told him she never wanted to see him again? He thought he was giving her what she wanted, what she’d requested. Oh, she’d made a complete mess of things, too. They were quite a pair, the two of them.

  She rang for her maid and promptly dressed. Then she set about writing a letter of her own.

  * * *

  At precisely four o’clock that afternoon, the traveling chaise of the Duchess of Claringdon pulled to a stop in front of Christian’s town house. Lucy, Cass, Jane, and Meg alighted.

  As soon as the ladies were ensconced in the silver salon, Lucy wasted no time in announcing why they’d come.

  “I received your letter, dear, asking for our help. Of course you may have it. We realize what Berkeley did was a bit of a problem for your reputation, but nothing a duchess, a countess, and a future countess can’t overcome. We know everyone who’s anyone in the ton, and we’ve begun courting favor with our friends. We’ve already told half the town how your poor thwarted love story has ended happily after all and you’re properly married now, so who really cares? All’s well that ends well.”

  Sarah blinked at them. “You’re here to … stop the scandal?”

  “Of course, why else did you think we’d come?” Lucy asked.

  “We want to help you, Sarah,” Cass said softly.

  Meanwhile, Jane was helping herself to tea cake.

  “We’d like to help Meg here, too, if only she would stop being so stubborn and allow us to purchase a few new gowns for her,” Lucy added.

  “I appreciate the thought, Your Grace,” Meg replied with a wide smile, “but we’re here for Sarah at the moment.”

  Sarah bit her lip. “I wanted to … I mean, I … The ton will truly accept that story?” She felt silly and didn’t want to admit why she’d asked them to come.

  Lucy flourished a hand in the air. “The secret is, darling, that most of the most respectable people in the ton, including Cass and Jane and myself, have extremely scandalous stories of how we met our husbands. Everyone’s a bit willing to be forgiven when they’ve needed it themselves a time or two.”

  Sarah shook her head. “I never knew.”

  Cass blushed a little. Jane merely shrugged.

  “Of course you didn’t, dear,” Lucy continued. “That’s what’s so lovely about it. It’s all easily forgotten and swept under the rug once a nice tidy wedding takes place, and you’ve already done that.”

  “Ooh, what did you do, Lucy?” Meg asked, helping herself to a tea cake, too.

  “Stories for another time, dear,” Lucy said to Meg with a wink.

  Sarah smoothed her skirts. “That certainly makes me less worried. But I’m still afraid Father will never forgive me.”

  “Oh, pishposh. Your father will forgive you once he’s bouncing his first grandbaby on his knee. I’m certain of it,” Lucy said.

  “It’s true,” Cass added.

  “Babies do tend to be peacemakers,” Jane said. “Or so I’m told.”

  “Forgive us for not coming sooner and putting your mind to rest, but we thought we’d give the two of you a bit of privacy on your first day or two as a married couple.” Lucy waggled her eyebrows. “Then I received your letter and, well, here we are. Now where is the happy newly wedded bridegroom?” She glanced about for Christian.

  Shame flooded through Sarah. She was certain she was bright red. There was no way around it, she’d have to admit the truth to her friends. “He’s … not here.”

  Lucy blinked. “Not here? Whatever can you mean? He can’t have already left for an outing. Why, the two of you should still be indecently in bed all day.”

  More red heat. Sarah pressed her hands to her cheeks.

  Meg blushed, too.

  “Lucy!” Cass scolded.

  Jane Upton merely rolled her eyes and helped herself to more tea cake.

  “Not only is he not here,” Sarah admitted miserably, tugging at the collar of her gown, “but we…” She gulped and looked away. “We…”

  “Go on, out with it, dear. It can’t be that bad,” Lucy prompted.

  “It’s worse than bad,” Sarah said, meeting each lady’s gaze in turn.

  “Oh, dear.” Cass came over and patted her hand. “It’s all right. You can tell us.”

  “You are under absolutely no obligation to tell us anything,” Jane offered.

  “No, no. I want to. I need to. I need your advice,” Sarah said.

  “Of course you do,” Lucy replied, giving Jane a dirty look. “Go on, dear,” she prompted Sarah.

  “Cover your ears, Meg.”

  Meg did as she was told. Sarah took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She needed to tell them, but she didn’t have to see them while she told them. “We haven’t con-consummated our marriage,” she blurted out, then bent over and hid her face in her hands.

  There was
a slight gasp—she wasn’t certain from which lady—but soon she felt Cass’s comforting pat again. “There, there. It’s not so bad as that.”

  Sarah sat up again and opened her eyes. Lucy motioned to Meg to uncover her ears.

  “I’m so ashamed,” Sarah whimpered. “I’ve been such an awful wife to him and he … he…”

  “He what?” Lucy asked, sympathy in her voice.

  “He left for Northumbria,” Sarah managed through a dry throat.

  “What!” Lucy plunked her hands on her hips, looking positively outraged.

  “He left for Northumbria. This morning.” Sarah slowly dragged the note from her pocket and handed it to Lucy. “Here. This explains it all.”

  Lucy read the note aloud so the others could hear, and when she finished she shook her head and clucked her tongue. “That coward. How could he run from you?”

  “I’ve run from him often enough. Besides, he’s not a coward,” Sarah admitted miserably. “He was just doing as I asked.”

  Cass’s head snapped up. “You asked him to leave?”

  “I didn’t know he’d go to Scotland, but I told him on our wedding night that I…” Sarah made a small moaning noise in the back of her throat. “I told him I never wanted to see him again. Oh, I’ve ruined everything.”

  “There, there,” Cass repeated. “You haven’t ruined everything.”

  “Not at all,” Meg stated loyally.

  “Yes, I have. He’s left me and he loves the north. He may never return,” Sarah said.

  Lucy, who had been busily tapping a finger against her cheek, obviously plotting, pointed a finger in the air. “It’s true, he may never come back, unless he has a reason.”

  “What reason?” Sarah asked, brightening a bit.

  “I can’t think of a good reason,” Lucy replied.

  Sarah’s shoulders slumped again.

  “But I can think of an alternate plan,” Lucy said, a smile slowly spreading across her face.