David mentally kicked himself. The kiss was a direct result of his racing libido, nothing else. She was a woman, yes, but he had known her too long, too well, for her to be a love interest. There was no mystery with Sarah, no intrigue. But how to convince Sarah without hurting her feelings? “Ah, perhaps,” David said evasively, taking the coward’s way out yet again. “However, I think now we should begin to focus on this earl of yours. What is his name?”
“Oh,” Sarah replied, with what appeared to be relief. “Let me see.”
She began rummaging through her bag for something, but all David could think about was the look he had seen on her face. Was she finding it hard to think of him as a lover as well? Surely not. The girl had been over the moon for him since they were children. It was the main reason he had for treating her like his sister. The better to quash any notion of love between them. Did it perhaps work so well that she didn’t want his advances any more than he wanted to give them? And why was that such a sobering thought?
Sarah was glad for the time to collect her wits while searching for the letter given to her by Mrs. Cole. That kiss from David was even more debilitating than the previous one. Whatever had he been doing with his tongue? Was that normal? She was going to have to ask Hannah or Rose. Thus far they had been closed-lipped (oh the pun in that!) about what happened between them and their husbands behind shut doors, but no more. Sarah simply had to know if such, er, play was customary.
Sarah hoped it wasn’t an indication of deviant behavior, because she had enjoyed it immensely. If she hadn’t injured David so, she wondered what else would have happened. Odd, though, Sarah thought to herself, it seemed the injury had begun swelling even before I had hit it. Perhaps it was residual from the previous damage she had inadvertently dealt. In any case, she really must prevent herself from hitting there again. It seemed to be David’s Achilles’ heel.
Although the knowledge may come in handy, she had to admit. Despite her complete enjoyment of the kiss, she was actually relieved when David changed the subject. She was getting far too used to kissing David. She knew they must not mean anything. He was just a man. She had read enough novels to know that men have needs, and those needs didn’t mean love or even romance. Rose said it was instinctual behavior. Something going back to when humans were more like animals than the genteel people they would become.
Sarah had to remember that David saw her as family: a cousin, sister, niece. He would break her heart in a moment if she forgot that fact. And Hannah would never forgive her if she showed up on her doorstep in tears as a result of not heeding her words.
“Ah, here it is,” Sarah said after scanning the letter quickly. “Herbert Villiers, the Earl of Blackwood.”
“Very good. Let’s finish our ablutions, dress, and see if our good innkeeper can direct us to the earl’s estate.”
“I do hope we can clear up this matter peacefully.”
“As do I, my dear. As do I.”
Sarah began to put herself to rights. Making use of the privacy screen, she was able to change into the day dress she had packed for the occasion. It was a soft dove gray that she had been told brought out her eyes in a becoming way. The neckline was somewhat lower than her other dresses, but her friends had assured her it was the fashion, and she did not look the least bit “convenient” in it.
With all the “Long Meg” references, Sarah still had concerns over appearing as less than she ought.
Stepping out from behind the screen, Sarah leaned in to the mirror for last minute adjustments and to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. When she looked up, she saw David eyeing her heatedly. Glancing down, Sarah could see her reflection in the mirror and saw just what David must be seeing.
In her bent position, the swell of her breasts was near to bursting over the low neckline of her dress. She had never considered herself particularly endowed, especially in comparison to Hope or Rose, but perhaps she had not been giving herself enough credit.
Standing up straight, Sarah ignored the flush rising to her cheeks and she squared her shoulders almost proudly. It seemed her husband found her attractive, at least. And desirable, if the kiss they shared before was any indication.
Turning around, Sarah gave David what she hoped was a sultry look. On the verge of saying something completely ridiculous she had read in a lady’s novel, she managed to trip on her own dress. All that emerged was an awkward, “Ack!”
Glancing at David to judge his reaction, Sarah saw that despite his compelling look earlier, he had apparently returned to his dressing and, therefore, missed everything that had happened afterward. Perhaps he was not feeling the romance she hoped, but base desire. Not quite sister anymore, but certainly not anything approaching love.
Oh well, better for her heart, she supposed.
Both relieved and disappointed, Sarah lifted herself off the floor and brushed her skirts down into a smooth line. Grabbing her reticule and pelisse, she turned to David, ready to begin their adventure. Hopefully, she could remain on her feet during their outing. She was quite sure the earl wouldn’t be impressed opening the door to a crumpled mess on his porch.
“I believe I am ready, David.”
David looked up and smiled.
“You look lovely, my dear.”
“Thank you,” Sarah replied automatically, looking at David in the morning light. Sun lit up his flaxen hair, and the blue of his waistcoat reflected beautifully in his eyes. “You look like an angel.” She sighed.
David blushed.
“Uh, th-thank you,” he stammered, looking around uncomfortably before picking up his hat and turning to open the door.
Sarah mentally kicked herself. Angel? What was she thinking saying that out loud? Unable to make eye contact, Sarah walked past David, who was gallantly holding the door open for her. She couldn’t think of anything to make the situation less awkward, so for once, she didn’t say anything at all.
David followed his wife to the front desk of the establishment. She had fallen silent after her unexpected compliment, and he was surprised to find that bothered him. However, what was one to say after being likened to a heavenly being? Certainly he had given similar compliments to women, but never had he been told such about his own person.
And being held to such a standard was worrisome. He was no angel. He wasn’t even sure he could be considered a true gentleman anymore. Not with the thoughts that had run through his head earlier when he happened to catch Sarah’s reflection in the mirror. To say the thoughts were salacious would be a massive understatement. He had wanted to take her right then and there, like a tavern wench. But she was no light-skirt. This woman was his wife…and a lady.
Lovemaking with Sarah should be—were it to even happen—gentle and sedate. He would have to slake his lust some other way. He would get a mistress. That had been his plan upon finding himself in this marriage, anyway.
Why does the idea suddenly seem less appealing than it had previously? he wondered.
The innkeeper’s acknowledgment of their arrival thwarted any further musing on the subject, however, and David turned his attention to the matter at hand.
“My good sir,” he began, once pleasantries had been exchanged, “could you direct us to Blackwood’s estate?
“Of course, my lord,” the man replied before hesitating. “Is he expecting your visit? The earl is not particularly welcoming of strangers.”
Sarah gave David a sidelong look. That did not come as much of a surprise.
David simply inclined his head. “Regardless of the earl’s attitude, we mean to visit the man.”
The innkeeper said nothing else, except to give succinct directions to the Blackwood manor.
David thanked him and offered Sarah his arm. It seemed the incident in their room was forgotten as she took his elbow with a genuine smile. David was again reminded of the quiet grace Sarah had. Grace probably wasn’t a word she would use to describe herself, but David thought it apt. Sarah Jardin was never one to hold a grudge. S
he had a kind word for nearly everyone. She was also the first to give one the benefit of the doubt. Considering her less than ideal upbringing, David marveled at her generally positive attitude and her ability to see good in even the most tenuous of situations.
Feeling his own good nature reemerging, David began to look forward to the day ahead. Getting this Potter fellow out of the hangman’s noose would be a good deed—of which his lagging self-worth was greatly in need. Plus, he was looking forward to getting to know Sarah better. She was proving to be a delightful, and surprising, companion.
The carriage ride was an extremely pleasant one. Sarah was as charming as a child, pointing out the wild flowers and lush foliage as if it were the first time she had seen such a thing. David enjoyed enlightening her on some of the more obscure names of the growth. His time with Simon Trumbull had served him well. Simon had always enjoyed plants and gardens. In fact, he and Rose were working together to grow a new type of the flower for which she was named. They planned to call it the Warren if they were successful. A tribute to Rose and her maiden name.
David still shook his head when he thought of his friend happily married to Rose Warren. The two had been betrothed since childhood, but Simon had had no desire to ever marry the chit in all the years David had known him. Then suddenly…love everlasting. David supposed, if it could happen to a ne’er-do-well like Simon, perhaps he and Sarah had a chance. Although, truth be told, David would be surer of this if, say, his friend Alexander had found love. Alex still appeared stuck in playing the game of rake. Romance and marriage seemed to be the last thing on his mind.
The drive came to an end much sooner than David would have liked, but the Blackwood estate was as charming as the rest of the scenery. A large Tudor style mansion stood at the end of a long winding drive. The yard just around the house was orderly and well-manicured. There were gardens in the distance beyond the house and acres and acres of wilderness surrounding the extensive grounds. It was truly an estate of which to be proud.
Proud. Yes, that was the word for the earl. Within seconds of being introduced to the man, David was overcome with an intense dislike for the pretentious fool.
“I do not believe we had an appointment, Rochester,” the man said, not even looking at David. Instead he was standing facing his portrait that hung ostentatiously above the fireplace.
Instantly David felt the urge to turn Blackwood physically to face him as a gentleman, but he was on a mission of mercy, and he had to keep his wits about him.
“No, Blackwood, we did not. However, a disturbing event seems to have occurred and we, my wife and I, have come to see if it can be rectified.”
At this point, the earl turned from his painting and looked at David. He then turned his gaze to Sarah. After a deliberate perusal of her face, clothing, and carriage, he sniffed and turned back to his own image, apparently finding it much more pleasant.
“I know of no such incident.”
David curled his hand into a fist and made to lunge at the detestable being. It was one thing to dismiss him, but a lady?
Sarah grabbed his arm, and David glanced over at her with a silent snarl. She shook her head and looked at him pleadingly. She mouthed William in a silent reminder of what was at stake, and David softened his features. She was right. A battle would certainly end in the farmer’s death.
Struggling to fight his baser instincts, David tried communication one more time.
“I am referring to the matter of William Potter.”
Blackwood scoffed. “That criminal? How is he of any import?”
“That ‘criminal,’ as you call him, was just trying to keep his family warm,” David reasoned.
“Ha!” Blackwood faced David and folded his hands behind his back. “Since when does it take a forest of wood to keep one family warm? Would you condone the rape of your land by a thief in the night? I think not.”
“An entire forest?” Sarah gasped. “We were told of only one tree.”
“A thief and a liar, then,” Blackwood said, looking back to his picture one more time. “Even more reason to punish the wastrel.”
David looked at Sarah. If what Blackwood said were true, Potter did deserve some penalty. Sarah looked distraught at the idea, but even she had nothing to say, it seemed.
“Well, sir,” David said regrettably, “I suppose we have taken up enough of your time.”
“Yes, as a matter of fact.”
Again David just wanted to land a facer, but he decided the blighter wasn’t worth it.
Without another word, David led a still stunned Sarah out of the grand manse. Outside, the shining sun and chattering birds once again lifted David’s spirits. As beautiful as the Blackwood manor was, he couldn’t shake the feeling of oppression inside its doors. Something was very wrong in that place. Very wrong, indeed.
Chapter Seven
Love is not blind, as is commonly believed. Love sees more, not less.
—The Duke of Lancaster
“Now what should we do?” Sarah asked. “I don’t think I can face the Coles. They will be devastated by this news.” She looked at David, wringing her hands.
David was gazing thoughtfully at the grand mansion. This gave Sarah pause…and, for some reason, hope.
“What are you thinking?”
Turning his head to look at her, David replied, “I don’t trust that man. I think perhaps it would behoove us to take a look at the damage ourselves. If nothing else, it will put my mind at ease. I just cannot seem to judge Potter based solely on Blackwood’s word.”
“Of course.” Sarah sighed. “Why didn’t I think of that? The man could be, and very probably is, lying.”
“Don’t get your hopes up yet, my dear. Blackwood knows his story is easy enough to check, so it could be I am making more of this than there is. But I get the feeling he is not used to being doubted, so it’s possible he exaggerated the truth, not expecting anyone to investigate.”
Sarah nodded. David was right. There was no guarantee the earl was lying, but there was still a chance to get William out of this predicament, and Sarah would leave no stone unturned to find the truth. She owed it to the Coles. She owed it to herself. To the mission.
“Then shall we inspect the real damage?”
“First, I suggest we see the local magistrate. I don’t know about you, but I would rather not have to ask Blackwood where the trees in question were located. I don’t think he will appreciate our continued interest in the matter.”
“That is very clever of you, David,” Sarah said.
My, but my husband is an ingenious sort, Sarah thought. How nicely David was turning out. Just a year ago she would have said David had no business being married, much less in line for an earldom, but the last few months had shown amazing growth in the man. He had always been an intelligent boy, but now he was using his mind for good and not mischief. He really was the most remarkable thing. He would have made the woman of his choice a wonderful husband, Sarah thought wistfully.
“Thank you, dear,” David replied before turning to open the door to their carriage. Sarah could have sworn she caught him beginning to flush. Could her simple words of praise have meant that much to him? Could her opinion of him matter? As she climbed into the vehicle, Sarah contemplated the meaning of this new development. Certainly, he had always been kind to her, shown some sort of odd affection for her, but could it be he valued her, too? In some intrinsic way, could she, Sarah Jardin, be worming her way into David Rochester’s heart?
Surely not.
But Sarah could not rid herself of the idea. She kept looking over at David. He seemed almost like a different man now. A whole new entity to be explored. What if, by some miracle, she could convince him she was worthy of love? Am I worthy of love? Sarah thought.
As in her opinion of her beloved, a year ago Sarah would have sworn she was not. Her self-worth was lower than the lowliest vermin. But recently, Lady Lancaster had shown her that she could be, perhaps was, so much more. Her fr
iends certainly saw something lovable in her. If nothing else, Sarah was sure of her relationship with the ladies of the Garden Society. She could tell them anything (and invariably did), and they still accepted her. And she would lay down her life for them.
But did that make her worthy of David’s love?
“What is going on in that pretty little head of yours?” David asked, interrupting her thoughts.
“You think I am pretty?” Sarah blurted out without thinking. She blushed and hurried to say, “I’m sorry. That was horribly forward of me.”
David chuckled. “No apologies necessary, Sarah. I am familiar with your mouth, remember?”
Sarah’s face burned even hotter, and she looked at her feet. Memories flooded through her unbidden. Memories of his mouth against hers, burning her as effectively as a brand.
David saw Sarah turn a shade of red he didn’t think possible, and he thought back to what he had said. Grinning, he realized his unintentional double entendre. He could only imagine where the implication had taken his wife’s mind. He certainly knew where his went. He could feel certain parts of him tighten just at the thought.
However, now was not the time for such feelings, so David decided to focus on Sarah’s original question.
“And, yes, now that you mention it, I do think you are pretty,” David said truthfully. “In fact, you seem to get prettier every day.”
Sarah’s head jerked up, and she looked at him in such surprise and disbelief that David nearly became angry. Has no one ever told the girl she is pretty before?
“Do you really think so?” she said in a barely audible voice.
David could see her eyes beginning to well with tears, and he was suddenly overcome with the desire to take her in his arms and protect her from all the hurt to which she had ever been subjected. While not a love match, they were friends, and David could not countenance one of his friends being so very hurt.
He took her hands in his and said, in no uncertain terms, “Yes, Sarah, I really think so.”
Enticing Her Unexpected Bridegroom Page 7