An Unexpected Countess

by Laurie Benson

  She almost laughed, but it was hard to do that when she had to walk out on the man she loved.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Hart had spent the night staring up at the curtains covering his tester bed, thinking about Sarah. In a few hours he would be making the journey to the coast to board a ship bound for Italy. He thought he was trying to escape Prinny and Blackwood and the pain of not knowing who he was. However, after hours of remembering every kiss, every conversation they’d ever had, he had come to the realisation he was really leaving because of her.

  Being around Sarah without being able to be with her would be too painful. He missed her already. He missed the sound of her voice. He missed the anticipation of never knowing what she would say next. He longed to hear the slight hiccup sound she made when she laughed too hard and that look that she would get in her eyes when she gave him her undivided attention. She was the only one who had ever lifted his spirits with just a smile. And he longed to be inside her—the one place he felt like he truly belonged.

  Ever since he was a child, he’d known it wasn’t wise to grow attached to people. The people you cared about the most would always leave you. His mother had left him when she fell from that cliff. His grandmother had left him when her heart gave out when he was ten. And he had been coming to care for Caroline, but she had left him for his father. After Caroline’s death, he had sealed his heart away, refusing to get close to anyone else, except somehow Sarah had found a way through.

  Needing her in his life while knowing she didn’t want him was worse than any hurt Blackwood or Prinny had inflicted upon him. When her brother had asked if they were married, she’d practically laughed at the notion. He should have expected that. She had already told him she did not want to marry him.

  The only thing he could do was go to Italy and attempt to forget her. He would stay as long as it took. And if he didn’t return until after her father’s diplomatic mission in London was over, then so be it.

  But as the morning light slowly crept along his floor and up the side of his bed to land on his bare chest, the thought of never seeing her again was leaving his heart in tatters. When Chomersley came in to notify him that he would have to rise soon if they were to have any chance of reaching the coast in time to board the ship he had booked passage on, it made him want to vomit. Hart rolled over and wondered if he could do it. Could he leave and never see her again? Could he do it without letting her know how he felt?

  He was a man who did what he wanted, when he wanted. And what he wanted was Sarah and he’d be damned if he left England without letting her know that!

  * * *

  Throughout the short ride to her home, he sat in his well-appointed carriage, trying to find the right words to express how he felt about her. But each time he would try to explain it, words would escape him. How was he supposed to get her to understand how important she was to him, if he couldn’t explain it to himself?

  When his carriage rolled to a stop on the cobblestones outside the Forresters’ town house, he looked up at the nondescript brick building and knew that when he re-entered his carriage his life would be changed in some dramatic fashion. He adjusted his hat, took a breath and stepped onto the pavement.

  After presenting his card to her butler, he was shown into a bright yellow drawing room while the man went to enquire if she was receiving. Here in England it would be customary for her mother to join them since Sarah was an unmarried woman, but since Sarah was unpredictable, he had no idea what would happen.

  He found he couldn’t sit still and walked around the sunlit room, picking up odd pieces of porcelain and looking out the window. He was rubbing his lucky coin, which had been in his waistcoat pocket, when he heard her enter the room.

  When he turned around, it was difficult not to smile at the sight of her wearing a yellow silk bandeau in her long, wavy hair and a demure yellow-and-pale-blue-striped dress with a white gauzy fichu tucked into the neckline of her gown. This was how she looked when she was at home and not expecting callers. He had not been able to wait for proper calling hours and now he was glad he hadn’t. She looked beautiful in a freshly scrubbed sort of way and he was glad she hadn’t arranged her hair to come in to see him.

  Her eyes narrowed on him. ‘You cut your hair.’

  He didn’t know how she would receive him after what they had been through together. He wasn’t expecting that, though.

  ‘I did,’ he said, running his hand through his shortened locks that Chomersley had asked him a dozen times if he was sure he wanted cut.

  Sarah approached him slowly, her eyes focused on his forehead. She stopped less than a foot away from him and took her hand and combed it through the short hair on the top of his head. ‘Why did you cut it?’

  ‘You told me you hated it.’

  ‘You cut it for me?’

  ‘You said that lock of hair that fell into my eyes was annoying.’

  ‘I said you were annoying. I loved that lock of hair.’

  Now she said she loved it—now, after he had cut it off just for her! Would she ever be predictable?

  ‘It will grow back,’ he said, watching her eyes following the progress of her fingers as she continued to comb them through his hair. She smelled faintly of lilacs and he took in his favourite scent.

  ‘It feels strange when it is this short.’ As if she just realised she had been touching him, she lowered her hand suddenly.

  He was sorry she had stopped. ‘Strange good or strange bad?’

  ‘Strange different.’

  ‘Did you speak with your parents about the person you saw yesterday?’

  She looked down at her blue silk slipper with tiny rosebuds as she pushed the sole of her foot against the rug. ‘I did. My mother cried for hours. Most of it, I believe, in relief that Alex is still alive. My father was silent for a very long time, but exhibited no signs of cardiac distress. He intends to hire a man to find him. He says there are things he needs to speak with him about in person. I’m glad I told them. They have a right to know.’ She looked back up at him. ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked, clasping her hands together in front of her.

  ‘I needed to see you before I left.’

  ‘Left? Are you heading to the country?’

  He shook his head slowly. ‘I’m going to Italy.’

  Her forehead wrinkled and she didn’t look at all happy. ‘Italy? For how long?’

  ‘For as long as it takes.’

  ‘Takes for what?’

  ‘To forget you. Although I believe it will be a lifetime before that happens.’

  Her hand went to her stomach and she studied him. ‘Why do you want to forget me?’

  ‘Because knowing I’ll be living without you in my life has left me in pieces. I want to see you every day. I want to laugh with you and see your nose wrinkle up when you taste something you find distasteful. I want to know what it’s like to wake up to the sound of your voice. And see what your eyes look like when you’re heavy with sleep. I want to walk with you while I hold your hand in the sunshine. And I want to shield you from the rain and kiss you again in the moonlight. I want to have that sense of anticipation I get in waiting to hear whatever unexpected thing you’ll say next. And I want to hold and protect you through any hardships. I want to do all of that and it is tearing me up inside that I can’t. So I need to leave and try to forget you are everything I have ever wanted.’

  A tear slid down her cheek and he searched her expression for some sense of what she was feeling.

  ‘Why can’t you do those things?’

  ‘Because you won’t have me and even if you would, some day you’ll leave.’ He tried to swallow but it was difficult. ‘Sarah, I’m just a man. Not a very good one. But you are everything to me. I needed to say these things to you. I needed you to know what you mean to me before there is
an ocean between us.’

  ‘I think you are perfect.’

  Now his eyes were watering up, which was impossible because he never cried. But there were teardrops clinging to his damn lashes. He scrubbed them away and waited.

  They stared at one another, looking deeply into each other’s eyes. He tried to determine what to say next, but the words would not come.

  ‘What do you think it all means?’ she asked. ‘The way you feel about me?’

  ‘It means I’m bloody miserable when I’m not with you.’

  A hint of a smile played on those soft pink lips. ‘I’m miserable without you, too.’

  ‘You are?’

  She nodded. ‘I have been for some time now.’

  He took her hand in his. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘Because you are a man who doesn’t just want to be with one woman. You’re a man who doesn’t want a wife.’

  ‘That’s not true. Well, it was, but it isn’t true now. I have always felt there was something missing in my life. When I’m with you, I no longer feel that way. There is no one else I have wanted since that night I saved you from dying in the rain. There hasn’t been anyone since that night. And I know deep inside I never will want anyone else.’

  ‘But what about Lady Helmford? I saw you with her at the Everills’ musicale.’

  ‘Theodosia and I are friends. She is a lovely woman. It doesn’t mean I still want her. In fact, that night, I told her I was planning on a life of abstinence for a while.’

  The smile on her face was reaching her eyes. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I can’t have you and you are all I want. My desires in life have changed in a profound way. I know what I will always want is a life with you. I know you want to marry an American man and I’m as British as they come.’

  She swallowed hard. Her voice was breaking. ‘It’s important that I do not live my life an ocean away from my family. They need me and I need them.’

  His eyes scanned her pained expression and his brows wrinkled. ‘I would not ask you to leave your parents. I have enough funds that we could have homes on both shores. We could travel back and forth whenever you would like. You have mentioned a time or two that I might enjoy the American experience.’

  Tears were in her eyes. ‘You would do that for me?’

  ‘Darling, I would do anything for you. I love you.’

  Her hand flew to her mouth and there was hiccup mixed with a small sob. ‘You do?’

  ‘That’s what I came here to tell you. I love you. I couldn’t leave for Italy without letting you know that. But I don’t know what to do. The depth of the feelings I have for you terrifies me. It terrifies me that I feel this way about you and in the end I will be all alone.’

  She stepped closer to him. ‘You are all I want in this world. You and your too-long hair. You never try to alter me. There is no attempt to change my impulsive behaviour. No desire to restrict my adventurous nature. It feels as if you see me for who I am and you like that person.’

  ‘I love that person.’

  ‘And I love you, too.’

  He hadn’t heard those words since he was a child and they almost brought him to his knees.

  ‘Hart, I cannot stand here and promise you that I will not die before you. What I can promise you is that every day we spend together I will love you with every part of my being.’

  Could he do it? Could he risk having his life collapse around him if something happened to her? Could he live without her, knowing her light was shining somewhere else in the world? He couldn’t. It wouldn’t be living.

  He kissed her hand. ‘Those pretty words of yours are what one says in bed, darling. I thought I would mention it, for the next time we are there.’

  ‘But you’re leaving for Italy. There won’t be a next time.’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere without you, Sarah.’

  ‘Are you trying to ask me something?’

  ‘I suppose I am.’

  She raised her brows expectantly.

  ‘Should I get down on my knee?’

  ‘Do whatever feels right.’

  They were the very words he had said to her as they rolled around her rug that night. He had vowed to himself he never would do this.

  He got down on his knee.

  And the kiss she gave him after saying yes was his favourite kiss of all.

  ‘So now I’ll be Lady Hartwick. That sounds quite lofty. It will take some getting used to. Perhaps when we are home in America, I could just be Mrs Sarah Attwood.’

  ‘Now that sounds odd. Perhaps I’ll let you try to persuade me.’ He gave her his most charming smile. ‘And since you are going to be my wife, there is something you should probably know about my surname...’

  * * *

  After agreeing they would be married in just two weeks’ time, he left Sarah in the Yellow Drawing Room and went to her father to ask for her hand. It was a little late for the man’s consent, but Hart wanted to begin that relationship with an honourable act and hopefully have a cordial relationship with his future father-in-law. He had never felt nervous conversing with another man but he did today.

  During their somewhat brief conversation, in which Hart had to confirm that, yes, he did indeed want to marry the man’s daughter even though he had never courted her and they had supposedly spent little time together, it was a jolt the first time Mr Forrester called him son. The word used as a term of endearment had never been uttered by anyone to Hart. His mother and grandmother had both referred to him by his Christian name. Hearing it used by Sarah’s father brought a lump to his throat.

  Experiencing what his life was going to be like with Sarah’s mother was another unusual experience for him. One he wasn’t prepared for. They had invited him to dine with them that night and she had asked Sarah to find out what his favourite foods were. Each and every one of them were on the table. The woman even found a bottle of an 1811 Croizet B. Léon cognac to serve that night. It was his favourite cognac and not easy to come by. She also hugged him. Twice.

  Chapter Twenty

  Three weeks later

  Sarah stood next to her husband on the terrace of Lyonsdale House in her favourite blue silk gown, wearing her favourite new pale blue silk shoes with tiny keys embroidered in gold on them. The sun was shining. The clouds were drifting by in a lazy fashion. All around her was the buzzing conversations of the people she cared the most about.

  She tilted her head up to the sky, soaking in the warmth of the sun. The baby in her arms snuggled deeper into her neck. Augusta really was a sweet child. And she had been so good throughout her baptismal service in St James’s Church earlier in the day. She’d slept through the entire ceremony. It was a perfect day.

  ‘When does your ship depart?’ Lord Andrew Pearce asked while taking a sip of champagne, standing to Hart’s right.

  ‘In five days,’ Hart replied, glancing over at Augusta snuggled up with Sarah.

  ‘London won’t be the same without you.’

  ‘I’m sure you will do fine without me.’

  There was a look that passed between the two men and she got the sense that it was more than a casual comment made by Hart’s friend.

  ‘Look at him,’ Hart said. ‘The icy Winter has been melted by that little boy.’

  The three of them looked to where the Duke of Winterbourne stood talking with Lyonsdale while he held his infant son against his shoulder. Sarah had spoken to the Duke a few times since her wedding breakfast. She still found him to be a man with a commanding presence, but she had to admire the way he was always immaculately turned out. He was a great friend of the Prince Regent. Hart still hadn’t spoken to the Regent since he left Carlton House the day he learned he was the man’s son, but he agreed that after spending four months in America he w
ould call on him when they returned.

  ‘Nicolas seems to enjoy his baby brother,’ Sarah said to Lord Andrew, taking note of how Olivia and Winterbourne’s young son was tilting his head from side to side to get his little brother to laugh.

  Andrew watched his nephew and smiled like a proud uncle. ‘He does. No one can get William to laugh the way Nicolas can.’

  Augusta wiggled in her arms and she adjusted her hold on her goddaughter. She looked across at Katrina, who gave her an encouraging smile. Wiggly children left her out of her element and she started to rock her the way she had seen Katrina do when the baby fussed.

  ‘What will you be doing while I’m gone?’ Hart asked, tugging the soft white blanket up over Augusta’s shoulder.

  ‘I actually have plans to spend some time in the country for a while,’ Lord Andrew said. ‘One of Julian’s estates has been having issues and, now that William has been born, I volunteered to go in his place.’

  ‘That’s very kind of you,’ Sarah interjected.

  Hart leaned into her shoulder. ‘He’s not being kind. He’s running from Skeffington’s widow before she catches him.’

  ‘Hart, that’s a terrible thing to say.’

  Lord Andrew tried to hide his smile, but his hazel eyes gave him away. A soft breeze blew through the terrace and lifted a few locks of his brown hair. She remembered when the wind would lift that charming lock of Hart’s hair.

  Lord Andrew looked down at Sarah from his impressive height. ‘No. It’s true. I am not proud to admit it, but it’s true. That woman finds me everywhere.’

  Augusta continued to squirm and Sarah shifted her a bit higher in her arms. The squirming continued until she looked up at Sarah and suddenly went very still. Oh, no. No. No. No. She knew that look. Augusta was not going to ruin her new blue satin gown. It was bad enough Katrina had ruined her favourite pink slippers with breast milk. This baby was not getting her gown.

  She shoved Augusta into Hart’s arms and he took her awkwardly. Had he even held a baby before? Well, now was as good a time as any to learn how.