by Jenna Jaxon
Mama and Isabelle had assured her, too, that her looks would solidify her place, and though she’d been sceptical, Sarah had realised after her first ball that they were right.
Men would overlook a lot of things, it seemed, when one smiled prettily at them.
All it did was make her despise the lot of them. So like her father. So like her brother.
But then she’d met Daniel.
The lance of pain that shot through Sarah’s heart at the memory of her first meeting with Daniel was enough to shake her from her reverie.
It was no good rehashing these memories.
They served no purpose.
“Anyway, it’s no use crying about it now,” she said brightly, though her smile felt brittle. “Let us instead finalise your plans for tonight.”
Elizabeth offered a small smile in response, and Sarah hated the pity she saw there.
But mercifully, her cousin stood and led the way to the drawing room where they would look over the final guest list and menus and both pretend that Sarah’s secret was forgotten.
***
As he took his place at Sir George’s table that night, Daniel decided one of the many positives of being in Landscastle and away from most of the Peerage was that he could be seated next to Sarah.
Being the highest-ranking Peer, he was placed to Sir George’s right. And being the daughter of a viscount meant Sarah sat beside him.
He’d never really paid much attention to titles before, but he was infinitely glad for them now.
He still couldn’t quite believe that she was here beside him. In the flesh. Close enough to touch.
She’d avoided looking at him when he’d arrived this evening. He knew because he hadn’t been able to stop looking at her.
Sarah had never understood her beauty and the power it could wield. Which made her all the more attractive.
This evening, her glorious golden hair was pinned in a riot of curls that made him want to unpin it and run his fingers through its silken softness. She was bedecked in ice-blue silk, the dress hugging her curves before sweeping in folds to the floor, making him think all manner of wicked things, which made chit-chatting with the vicar deuced uncomfortable.
The colour made her eyes appear even more aqua blue. And he remembered how he’d once told her he’d only seen that colour in the Mediterranean Sea off the coast of Spain. Hadn’t he promised to take her to see that same ocean one day?
He would have, too. He would have married her and taken her anywhere in the world that she wanted to go.
He’d wanted to go to her, to engage her in conversation, to watch the blush that always seemed to develop around him heat her cheeks. To catch a glimpse of her turquoise eyes when she deigned to look at him.
But she really did seem to have this running away and avoiding him thing down to a tee, for he couldn’t seem to get near her.
But when the bell rang for dinner, she’d had no choice but to speak to him.
Daniel wondered momentarily if he shouldn’t feel a bit insulted by her distinct lack of interest in him.
Not only that, but he was starting to worry that he was being a nuisance, even making her uncomfortable.
It was during the soup course that he realised she was as affected by him, as he was by her.
He’d shifted in his chair, his thigh accidentally pressing against hers, and she’d promptly dropped her spoon with a clatter that drew the eyes of all of the other guests.
When he’d looked at her, paying no mind to anyone else, he’d seen that she was breathless, her cheeks flaming.
It could have been embarrassment at her faux pas, but he didn’t think so.
And this was what kept him from giving up all together. This slight glimmer of hope.
For she hadn’t told him that she didn’t want him. She had told him that it was impossible. And he simply refused to accept that.
Until Sarah told him that she felt nothing for him, that there was no hope of her feeling something for him, even a fraction of what he felt for her, he couldn’t walk away.
And if he spent a lifetime on the side-lines of her life awaiting a declaration that might never come, it was still preferable to not being around her.
And so he would wait.
***
Sarah sucked in a much-needed breath, allowing the stinging winter air to fill her lungs and calm her racing heart.
Dinner had been excruciating.
All day she’d fussed over the smallest details in order to distract herself from the fact that Daniel would be in attendance.
Everything, down to the berries of the holly boughs adorning the table, had been rigidly under her control, and she’d convinced herself that she had her heart and body under control, too.
And then he’d walked into the room.
Lord, would she ever get used to the sheer impact of him?
No matter where he went, who he was in the company of, he commanded the room like no other she’d ever met.
The black dinner jacket he wore was snug enough to accentuate his powerful, muscular arms. Arms that she knew could wrap around a woman and make her forget her own name.
He wore a waistcoat the same, dark green of his eyes, and his snowy-white cravat was pinned with an emerald.
She knew he cared not a whit about fashion. It seemed unfair then, that the dandies of the ton should spend hours carefully constructing their clothing and hair, and this man made the lot of them look utterly ridiculous.
More than once, she’d felt his eyes on her, but she couldn’t go to him nor could she allow him to approach her.
Her poor heart just couldn’t cope with it.
Then when she’d sat beside him and his thigh had brushed her own? Merciful heavens, she actually had to check and ensure her gown hadn’t caught fire from the heat.
She only hoped that he assumed her scalding cheeks and laboured breathing were due to embarrassment and not because of the real reason; that she was almost expiring from wanting him.
How was she ever to survive his proximity?
A cold breeze blew across the balcony where Sarah now stood, and she shivered, wishing that she’d thought to grab a cloak before making her escape.
After dinner, Elizabeth had led the ladies to the drawing room, and Sarah had taken the opportunity to slip outside.
No doubt dancing would start soon, but Sarah had no wish to dance. And she was frankly terrified of dancing with Daniel lest she do something silly like let him see the effect he had on her.
And he would ask her, she knew.
He was determined not to allow a distance between them.
Despite all he’d said about no longer chasing her, Sarah had an awful, sinking feeling he wouldn’t stop until he got answers.
But she had none. None that she could give him in any case.
Sudden tears stung her eyes, and Sarah rapidly blinked them away and turned her face to the night sky. It was clear tonight, with the light of millions of stars illuminating the snowy ground.
Try as she might, it was impossible to shake the despondence over how her life had turned out. Sarah always strived to be as positive a person as possible, even in difficult circumstances, but she was failing tonight.
Yes, the life she had known had been taken from her, but she had her health, a family who loved her, and a place in this small, beautiful part of the world.
Daniel’s return to her life was making her yearn for the impossible. It wasn’t London or the haute ton that appealed. It never really had, truth be told. But he appealed. And given the fact that he was a duke and therefore the crème de la crème of Society, London and Seasons and everything else came with the territory.
Oh, but what was the use in thinking this way?
Sarah would always be a bastard, and Daniel would inevitably be tainted by any association with her.
Feeling frustrated with her inability to let it go, Sarah dashed away the unwelcome tears before turning to go back inside.
; The breath caught in her throat.
Daniel stood in the doorway, and the way he was watching her made her heart almost fly fully from her chest and straight into his hands.
CHAPTER NINE
How long they stood there gazing at each other, Daniel didn’t know.
In the moment that Sarah turned around to face him, he was transported back more than three years prior. To the first night he’d seen her. To the first night she’d shifted the very axis of his world.
It had been another boring Society event that his mother had guilted him into attending.
Daniel had been feeling even more irritated than usual.
The room was stifling, though it was still fairly cool for Spring. But the Mayfair townhouse was packed to capacity, and between the sheer volume of people in attendance and the suffocating desperation of marriage-minded mamas, he could barely catch his breath.
He looked around the room, and his eyes landed with dismay on his mother and her friend Lady Hartley, who was on a ruthless mission to marry off her daughter by Season’s end.
Daniel muttered an oath to himself before slipping behind a pillar.
He knew his mother would love nothing more than for him to wed Lady Augusta, and he wasn’t about to stand around to chit-chat with the braying woman.
The crowd to his left parted a little, and Daniel saw his opportunity. He had a clear route to the balcony, and he wasted no time in hurrying to the open doors.
As soon as he stepped through the French doors and into the light spring evening, Daniel was able to breathe easier.
The night was cooling already, though it still held the aroma of spring flowers. More importantly, however, the balcony was mercifully empty.
Daniel heaved a sigh of relief and moved away from the door and further into the shadowed areas of the terrace.
Feeling an immediate wave of relief at not being surrounded by people who chattered an inordinate amount considering they had very little to say, Daniel prepared to spend a happily silent ten minutes hiding here, before escaping to a gaming hell for the evening.
A sudden noise drew his attention, and he stifled an oath as he turned to face his unwanted guest.
And there she was.
“Daniel.”
The softly spoken word brought Daniel back to the present.
She still had the same impact she’d had on him then.
His heart still raced. His body still stirred to life.
And suddenly, the mystery surrounding her disappearance and the hundreds of questions that remained unanswered, even the fact that she was still hiding so much from him, didn’t matter.
All that mattered was that he felt exactly the same as he had all those years ago and given the opportunity, he was quite sure his feelings would only grow stronger.
“We met for the first time on a balcony,” he said gently, stepping closer to her.
He watched her impossibly blue eyes widen, and he wondered, not for the first time, if she might be scared of him.
But then she smiled, and its impact was dazzling.
“We did,” she agreed. “I believe you were hiding.”
He answered her smile with a grin of his own.
“As were you, if I recall correctly.”
“Ah, but I was hiding from the censorious eyes of people who knew my father and brother.” Her eyes darkened slightly with remembered emotion, and Daniel felt a ridiculous urge to sweep her into his arms and protect her from the all the world’s ills.
But as quickly as the fleeting feeling had come, it disappeared again and her teasing look was back.
“But you seemed to be running away from a group of women.”
He frowned in mock offence, stepping closer still.
He could reach out now and smooth his thumb over her cheek. He could reach out and pull her body against his own.
“I’ll have you know it’s absolutely terrifying being at the mercy of those women when they want to get a ring on your finger.”
“You were determined to remain unshackled back then.”
“And you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.”
He saw her breath catch at his words, and her cheeks flamed, even in the cold night air.
“Things change,” she said, and it could have been wishful thinking or utter madness on his part, but he thought he heard regret in her tone.
“Some things,” he agreed. “But not that.”
Her eyes lit with joy and his heart soared in response, but her happiness was quickly replaced by desolation.
“I’m sorry, I can’t –“
Sarah moved to hurry past him, but Daniel reached out a hand and caught her gently before she left.
“Sarah, please stop running from me.”
She studied him for what seemed like an age.
Finally, she sighed and shook her head slowly.
“It’s no use,” she mumbled miserably.
And here they were again, at an impasse.
She didn’t trust him enough to tell him what had sent her fleeing from London or what was making her keep her distance now.
But, God help him, he didn’t care. If he could just spend some time with her, if she just wanted to be with him, no matter what had happened, that would be enough for him.
The only thing that would make him lose hope would be if she loved another.
A lance of pain twisted his heart at the idea.
He knew he couldn’t stomach the thought of another man holding her, kissing her, loving her…
If his behaviour the other day towards Sir George was any indication.
“Tell me one thing,” he said gruffly, and even he could hear the desperation in his tone.
“What?”
This was going to be hard to hear, but he needed to know.
“Did you fall in love with someone in London?”
She was silent for so long he thought she wouldn’t answer, and the anticipation was killing him.
Finally, though, she spoke.
“Yes, I did.”
A pain unlike anything he’d ever felt lanced through him. Well no, that wasn’t strictly true. The pain when she’d disappeared had been worse but damn it, this hurt.
“And you followed him here.”
It was as he’d feared. And now he wanted to be the one to run away.
“No,” she answered, and once again she wore that desolate expression that damn near killed him. “No, I left him behind.”
He couldn’t help it. Couldn’t have stopped himself if his life depended on it.
He was still holding her arm so it took nothing to pull her flush against him.
Of course, it was possible that she wasn’t speaking of him. But something inside him was drawn to her. It had always been thus. And he just knew she felt the same way.
And nothing else seemed to matter in that moment when she was saying what he desperately wanted to hear, when she looked like an angel, when he could feel her pressed against him.
He leaned down and kissed her as though his life depended on it. And in that moment, he felt as though it did.
CHAPTER TEN
It was another bitterly cold morning, but Sarah welcomed the icy wind that took her breath away, the crunch of snow beneath her sturdy walking boots, the flakes that fell against her face.
It served to clear her mind and help her make sense of her muddled thoughts.
A particularly biting breeze blew flurries of snow around her feet, and she pulled her cloak tighter around her.
Elizabeth had tried to stop her from walking in such bleak conditions, but Sarah felt as though she were going slowly mad cooped up with the memories of last night.
Daniel’s words. Daniel’s arms around her. Daniel’s kiss.
The freezing day seemed to grow suddenly stifling as she remembered last night’s encounter. It was stamped onto her very soul.
She hadn’t slept a wink.
Daniel had been the one to break the kiss. He’d pul
led his mouth from hers then pressed his forehead against her own while they both struggled to get their breathing under control.
Good sense had well and truly fled Sarah’s mind, but she knew she had to get a handle on this spiralling situation.
“Daniel—“ she’d started, but he pulled himself upright and shook his head.
“Don’t,” he said softly, almost pleading.
There was a tense silence as Sarah tried to sort her muddled thoughts.
Don’t what? Don’t run again? Don’t tell him they shouldn’t do this? Don’t ask him to leave her alone when all she wanted was to throw herself back into his arms?
Mercifully, he spoke again, meaning she didn’t have to.
“We keep going round and round in these circles, Sarah, and it’s driving me mad. You won’t tell me what happened all those years ago. I’m not thrilled about it, but I respect your decision.”
Well, that was good, wasn’t it?
“Tell me not to pry. Tell me to mind my own business. But please—” He reached out and grasped her hands in his own, and a now-familiar desire rippled through her. “Don’t tell me to stay away. I don’t think I can.”
Before she could respond, he’d kissed her again briefly, but it had been enough for her to catch fire all over again.
The sound of Elizabeth calling out for her had finally knocked some sense into Sarah, and she had realised that anyone could have seen them together on the balcony.
They were taking a foolish and scandalous risk.
And much as she loved Daniel, for of course she loved him, always had done; she wouldn’t have him leg-shackled to a bastard for the sake of a kiss, even an earth-shattering one.
Without another word to Daniel, and really what was there to say, Sarah turned and darted from the balcony.
She’d studiously avoided him the rest of the evening and had pled tiredness then retired shortly after the guests had left.
Unsurprisingly, however, sleep had alluded her. And when she had finally dozed off, her dreams had been torturous. Filled with longing and nameless anxiety. More than once she’d woken up just reaching for Daniel, just wishing that he could somehow help to make it all go away. That he could somehow find a way for them to be together.