by Cheryl Holt
So…there it was, and he hadn’t even had to search Mildred’s files or figure out how to open her safe. Sarah was about to reveal every detail he’d been seeking.
His expression was carefully blank. “It sounds as if he had an intriguing history.”
“They begged her father for permission to wed, but he refused. So they eloped, but he chased after them and brought her back. Robert disappeared, and she never heard from him again.”
“How did he disappear?”
“She’s not sure. She thinks her father bribed him to go away. He was penniless so he probably would have accepted a large payment.”
“That’s fickle of him. It certainly makes their romance seem fake and unimportant.”
“I can’t guess the depth of his affection, but hers was very real. She never got over it.”
“Is that why she never married?”
“Yes, that’s why, and here’s the rest of it.” She shifted so she could look him in the eye. “Swear again that you’ll never tell anyone.”
“I won’t. I swear.”
He kissed her to seal his vow, and when she drew away it was clear she believed him.
Oh, Sarah, Sarah, so naive, so gullible…
“She and Robert had a baby together. A boy.”
“No!”
“Yes.”
“Her father locked her in a home for unwed mothers, and when the child was born he was wrenched from her arms and given up for adoption.”
He swallowed down a thousand wild exclamations. Blandly, he said, “My entire life, there have been stories like that, but I’ve never personally met a female who experienced such an ordeal.”
“I hadn’t either—until now. Nicholas, she’s obsessed with memories of her son. She’s desperate to learn what happened to him. It’s why she visits the gypsies. She asks about him and if she might cross paths with him someday.”
“That explains it,” he murmured.
“Dubois told her that her son is very close, and she’s anxious for him to be correct.”
“I thought this was all fun and games for her. It’s not a hobby?”
“No, she goes with very serious questions, and she’s convinced their predictions will come true. Anyway, if she could locate her son she’d name him as her heir. Ultimately, he’d be very rich.”
Nicholas frowned. “Clayton wouldn’t like that.”
“No, and it worries me. I’m afraid for her. He doesn’t have her best interests at heart.”
“Nor does Winston Winthrop.”
“It’s why I wish you’d check on her occasionally—to be sure she’s safe from them. Plus, you remind her of Mr. Stone so she treasures your acquaintance.”
“How long has she been grieving and pining away?” he asked. “How old would her boy be now?”
“It’s been thirty years, and his birthday is today. It’s why we had our fancy supper. To celebrate it.”
My birthday is today…
He nearly mentioned it aloud so he could hear—just once—the reply, How nice! Happy birthday to you!
But as with every other secret he’d kept from her, he kept this one too. At this late date, why practice candor?
“For you, Sarah, I will remain her friend, and I will try to watch over her, but if she likes me because I resemble her missing beau that’s a very low bar. Mr. Stone must not have been all that impressive.”
“Don’t denigrate yourself to me. I don’t like it.” She smiled a sad smile, and some of the potent charge in the air started to wane. “We had a grand, but fleeting amour, didn’t we?”
A wave of panic swept through him. “You talk as if this is goodbye.”
“It’s the beginning of goodbye. I have to gradually separate myself from you until it seems as if none of this ever transpired.”
“It’s not possible. I’ll remember every detail.”
“I would say—if you ever realize you’d like to marry—you should find me, but I’m not optimistic so I won’t say it. If I assumed you’d eventually proceed, I’d wait for you forever, and I couldn’t live like that.”
“I’d marry you if I could,” he claimed.
“Don’t lie when you’re sitting so close to me. You might be struck by lightning, and I’d be struck too.”
He chuckled. “Let me rephrase my comment: I’d marry you if I were the marrying kind.”
“I’ll always tell myself that’s the truth.”
They were grinning, studying each other’s features, committing them to memory. Finally, she said, “Would you walk me back?”
“Not yet.”
“We’ve been out for so long that Mildred is probably wondering if I’ve misbehaved.”
“I might be a cad, but I’m hardly so debauched that I’d seduce you out on a public street.”
“She thinks you’re just that wicked.” He feigned offense, and she laughed. “I think you’re that wicked too. I should get going.”
She stood, and he couldn’t conceive of how he could persuade her to delay.
He was so conflicted over her! All of his decisions seemed stupid and wrong. He comprehended Mildred’s concerns about his motives, but why hadn’t he defended himself? Why hadn’t he sworn he would act the gentleman? Why hadn’t he at least tried to show himself as a better person?
He was simply bowled over by the recognition that any relationship with Sarah was pointless, and there was no reason to postpone the conclusion.
He stood too and took her arm, and he sauntered as slowly as he could to stretch out the interval. His heart was so heavy it was aching in his chest. There was a voice in his head shouting at him to stop being a fool, to keep her for his own, but he ignored it and continued on. Much too rapidly, they were at Mildred’s stoop.
They turned to each other, and the moment was fraught with options. He might have surprised them both with a sudden proposal, but before he could speak a word or share a last kiss, the door was yanked open, and Mildred was glaring at them like a hovering, nosy mother.
“Hello, you two,” she said. “I’d about given up on you.”
“We strolled to the fair and back,” Sarah told her, “and we lost track of time.”
“I figured that was it.” Mildred glanced at Nicholas. “I hope you won’t deem it presumptuous of me, but I packed your bag.”
He snorted with amusement. She knew him so well! He’d been planning to loaf for a few hours, perhaps to tarry until Mildred went to bed so he could pursue a few more intimacies with Sarah.
He was an ass. He was an idiot. Neither woman should have to tolerate such a wretch in their midst.
“Thank you for packing it,” he said. “I hate that I put you out.”
“You’ve been no trouble, Nicholas,” Mildred stated, then she scowled. “I take that back. You’ve been an enormous amount of trouble, but I like a man who brings me trouble.”
“I appreciate the hospitality.”
“You’re welcome to it in the future—so long as Sarah isn’t sleeping under my roof. Don’t be a stranger.”
“I won’t be.”
There was an awkward pause, then she shifted her scorching gaze to Sarah. “Why don’t you come in so I can lock up?”
“I will.” Sarah peered up at him. “I’ll expect to see you before you leave for London.”
“I’ll make sure of it.”
Mildred pulled her into the vestibule as she handed over his portmanteau.
“Goodnight, you scalawag,” Mildred said.
“Goodnight.” He nodded to Sarah who was standing behind her. “I’ll stop by soon. I promise.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” Sarah replied.
Then the door was shut, and Mildred spun the key. He dawdled, feeling like a dunce and wishing he could hear if they were discussing him. Yet it was madness to linger.
He walked out to the street, wondering if he could bear to show up at Clayton’s rented house so early
. But really, where else would he go?
CHAPTER TWELVE
“I have to tell you something.”
“What is it, dear?”
Mildred smiled at Sarah, and the poor girl appeared so miserable that she could barely stand to look at her. It was Mildred’s fault she was so forlorn. Fate had played a role too.
Nicholas and Sarah had shared such a potent attraction, and she’d wanted Sarah to experience a genuine amour, but she shouldn’t have tossed the pair into such tempting proximity. Especially with Nicholas being such a libertine.
There was no doubt about it. She was a cruel idiot. She’d promoted and facilitated their affection, being certain Nicholas would break down and propose, but it had been a deranged plan. He claimed he was no gentleman, but he was actually very gallant. He had no money, and he would never force Sarah to suffer the genteel poverty where he wallowed.
She deserved a much better conclusion, and he recognized that fact.
Mildred wished she was wiser or smarter so she could counsel the younger woman on how to muddle through without him. She should have been spewing platitudes about time healing all wounds, but she’d learned from her own pathetic situation that time did nothing of the sort.
“I hope you won’t be upset,” Sarah told her, “but I have to mention it or I’ll explode.”
Mildred’s spirits sank. “You haven’t misbehaved with Nicholas, have you? Please don’t tell me it’s that.”
“No, I haven’t misbehaved. I respect you too much, and I couldn’t bear to dim your esteem.”
“You never could.”
They’d been walking, investigating the architecture of some of the prettier cottages and evaluating the ornate carriages parked out front. They’d tried to deduce the names of the exalted families who were in Bath for the summer, and Sarah was adept at identifying the crests on carriage doors.
They’d dropped off a few calling cards, which was silly because Mildred wasn’t in the mood to socialize, and she’d like it if no one replied. They’d been shopping too and were both carrying baskets of food. Their loads were heavy, but luckily they were almost home.
Sarah put her basket on the ground so Mildred put hers down too.
“It’s about Mr. Winthrop,” Sarah said. “Last night, he stopped me in the upstairs hall for a private chat about you.”
“Oh, no.”
“He wanted me to tattle over how you’re spending your money and if you’ve been to the gypsies. He even asked if your lawyer had visited.”
Mildred sighed. “I’m sorry you had to endure it.”
Sarah held out her hand, a coin in her palm. “He slipped me a shilling when we were finished! He seems to suppose we’re in a conspiracy now so I’ll spy on you.”
“I’ll talk to him about it.”
“It’s more than that, Mildred. His conduct was deceitful and dishonest. I realize you’ve been acquainted with him for ages and that you deem him a friend, but he’s not. He doesn’t have your best interests at heart.”
“He’s a friend in some instances,” she said, “but not in others. He and Clayton like to confer about me.”
“I was wondering if that’s why he was so curious.”
“They’re convinced I’m tottering into a senile abyss, and they can’t abide the notion that I’m so independent. They’re typical men. They feel it goes against the laws of nature for a female to have a fortune, but I don’t manage it myself. Mr. Thumberton manages it for me. I wish they’d mind their own business.”
“I really can’t stomach either of them. Mr. Winthrop was so smug in his belief that he’d corrupted me. He thinks we’re chums! He thinks I would betray you for a shilling! I’m so irate.”
Mildred studied Sarah, loving how her eyes flashed daggers, and she grinned. “May I share a secret, Sarah?”
“Will it calm my fury?”
“First off, we should have our footman drill a hole in the coin, and you can make it into a necklace. You can wear it whenever we’re dining with Winston. It will give him a close up look at how you view his meddling.”
“I will do that!” Sarah vehemently stated. “I had planned to toss it in his face, but turning it into a necklace is a much better idea.”
“And second, I’ve had a dozen or more companions over the years, and he’s bribed every single one of them. You are the only one who ever confessed it to me.”
Sarah was stunned by the news. “Well, then, the other women you’ve hired were faithless idiots.”
“Generally, yes, and I’m delighted to find that you are just as marvelous as I imagined. I’ve told you before, Sarah, you’re a good girl. Your mother would be very proud.” She leaned down and picked up her basket. “Now then, I’d like to head home. I’m tired.”
Sarah picked up her basket too, and they continued on to the house.
“I’ve been dying to get that off my chest,” Sarah said.
“Why didn’t you apprise me sooner?”
“There wasn’t a moment when we were alone, and I’d hate to place you in a position where you’d have to defend him.”
“Where Winston and Clayton are concerned, I have no illusions.”
“Will you send him packing?” Sarah asked. “Isn’t he needed in London? Surely his spinster sisters are anxious for him to return.”
“He’s departing tomorrow. We’ll let him go without raising a big stink.”
“You’re a bigger person than I am, Mildred. I’m still trying to decide if I shouldn’t punch him in the nose.”
Mildred chuckled. “It’s nice to know that you’d act as my champion.”
“You have to promise me that—in the future—you’ll stay in touch with Nicholas. He could be your champion too. If your nephew or Mr. Winthrop grow too obnoxious, he could rein them in.”
“I’ve already considered it, Sarah.”
“Perfect.”
“Are you missing him today?”
“Terribly. I’m a despondent mess.”
“I’d offer inane clichés, but they’d only annoy you. Parting is not sweet. It’s all sorrow.”
“I agree.”
“Are you angry with me?”
Sarah scowled. “Why would I be angry with you?”
“I practically pushed you into his arms, then once he grabbed hold I jerked you away. I feel like such a fool.”
“You simply reminded me to behave myself. I have little experience with men, and no experience with amour, and I was in too deep. You kept me from drowning. How could I condemn you for that?”
“I wanted you to be happy.”
“I was happy. I am happy.”
“Shall we send him a note and invite him to supper?” Mildred asked. “The house is so quiet without him.”
“We can try to invite him, but I’m not certain he’ll be interested. He’s loafing with gamblers, and wagering is his passion. He’s probably too busy to spend an evening with us.”
“I’ll invite him anyway. He might surprise us.”
They arrived at her door, and as Sarah went into the vestibule a vehicle rumbled down the street. Mildred glanced over to discover that it was a horse-drawn cart and Dubois was sauntering along beside it.
He waved, and she waved too.
Sarah inquired, “Are you coming in?”
“It’s Dubois,” Mildred told her. “It looks as if he’s leaving town. I’ll chat with him for a minute, then I’ll join you.”
Sarah appeared as if she’d supply a comment Mildred wouldn’t like, but she bit it down and settled for a less-irksome remark.
“Don’t give him any money,” she said.
“I never give him money,” Mildred lied.
“And don’t believe any of his stories.”
“I rarely believe him, but please calm down. I’m just saying goodbye. I doubt I’ll see him again until next summer.”
Mildred started off, and Sarah called, “And don’t let him
give you any potions for me. I don’t want any!”
Mildred laughed and walked out to greet him.
“Are you abandoning me, Dubois?” she asked as he pulled his horse to a halt.
“Yes.”
“I was hoping to visit you one more time.”
“The festival is over, and normally I’d have camped outside the town limits for a few days, but I’ve been instructed by the city authorities that I should move on.”
“People complained about you?”
“They always complain, but on this occasion your nephew might have been responsible. He stopped by my tent last night with a female friend. Lady Middlebury?”
“Ah…I know her well.”
“She had her palm read, and she didn’t like my predictions.”
“You think he filed a protest about you?”
“It doesn’t matter who tattled. I was about to depart anyway.”
“I’ll pay you a hundred pounds if you’ll tell me what you learned from Lady Middlebury’s hand.”
“Ha! It would put you to sleep, and I wouldn’t accept compensation for such boring information.”
“You’re a scalawag.”
“But I can’t prevent myself from mentioning that there is a calamity winging toward her. It will strike her husband though.”
“Really? How fascinating. Will he grow ill? Will he suffer an accident? What will it be?”
“I couldn’t get a sense of it, but it will be massively shocking and astonishing. I wouldn’t describe it as an accident, but none of her dreams for him will ever come true, which means none of her dreams will come true either.”
“My goodness.”
“I’m not sure where they’ll be a year from now, but I wouldn’t loan them any money.”
“I’d never be that stupid.”
He grinned. “Does their horrid news make you happy?”
“Very happy. My companion, Sarah, is the Countess’s cousin. Sarah loathes her, and she’ll be delighted that there’s bad luck approaching.”
“How is Miss Sarah? I heard she drank my potion.”
“Who told you that?”