“To thank you for being a wonderful cousin and even better friend. And to apologize for my mercurial moods of late.”
“Firstly, you are welcome and the thanks are returned. And please don’t even mention the latter—we are all entitled to the occasional mood swing. Although,” she added, needlessly straightening the jars on the shelf in front of her. “If there’s anything you’d like to talk about, I’m always here to listen.”
Sarah reached over and squeezed Eleanor’s hand. “Thank you,” she said, surprised to discover her throat had tightened with emotion. “Perhaps…soon. Now tell me all your wedding news while I finish my inventory lists.”
As Eleanor chatted about where she and Lord Reading would live—not in Mayfair they had agreed—and how Reading had been so supportive of Eleanor’s work here and a dozen other details that only a woman deeply in love would think to remark on, Sarah found the angst that had been plaguing her releasing. The tension in her brow softened and she felt a sort of peace settle over her heart. She couldn’t quite explain how it happened, but for the moment at least, her regret eased even as her heartbreak softened.
By the time Eleanor finished, Sarah was able to turn a genuine smile on her cousin and say, “I am so very happy for you.”
She could tell Eleanor wanted to mention Samuel James, and Sarah appreciated her restraint. She had meant it when she said she would open up to her cousin soon, she just wasn’t quite ready.
Distracting Eleanor with one of her favorite topics, Sarah said, “Now tell me what style of dress I should order for your wedding.” And so their next hour was filled with talk of muslin and lace and waistlines and hems.
Three weeks’ time found Sarah in St. Paul’s Cathedral, dressed in her very own stylish gown, the most lovely shade of pale aqua. Long white gloves encased her arms and aqua slippers peeped beneath her hem. It was a gown she would never be able to wear in Southwark, but she would be able to wear it to the weekly family dinners Lady Chalcroft insisted would continue after Eleanor’s marriage. And she would perhaps be able to wear it to the meetings with donors Eleanor insisted were important.
Since Eleanor’s return to society when she single-handedly saved the funding for their charity, she had become an unstoppable force in taking their organization to another level of service and efficiency. She had nearly doubled their contributions and tripled their staff. Sarah actually now found herself with the occasional free day, something to which she still wasn’t entirely accustomed.
Sarah wasn’t exactly sure how Eleanor did it all. Certainly she’d reduced her time spent in Southwark, but she was still there three or four days a week, assisting Dr. Kendall, working in their kitchen, and checking in with those families with whom she had developed a particularly close bond. The remainder of her time was spent in the city, meeting with other aid organizations and potential donors.
And then there was Eleanor’s betrothed, Alex Fitzhugh, the recently named Lord Reading. She didn’t know when Eleanor managed to spend time with him, but as he took his place in front of the altar, Sarah could tell he was not a man deprived of love. He stood as if he were ten feet tall, watching the back of the church with a hungry intensity that reminded Sarah of how Sam had looked at her the night they made love.
She swallowed back the tightness in her throat, blinking rapidly to avert any dampness in her eyes. Today was about Eleanor, not for memories of a fleeting love.
And yet, as she stood with the rest of the congregation to watch the bride walk down the aisle, she felt the whisper of her silk chemise against her skin and all she could think about was him. It had seemed a crime to wear her old chemise beneath the beautiful new gown and so she allowed herself to wear it this once. And as she’d slid it on, she felt as if he were embracing her.
Sarah wrapped an arm around her midriff and closed her eyes as Eleanor and Reading said their vows. For the millionth time, she wondered what would have happened if things had been different between her and Sam. If he’d not been so bloody managing, if she’d not been so proud.
She found herself in the same pose that evening at a ball hosted for the newlyweds by Eleanor’s father-in-law, the Earl of Southampton. She was standing well back from the dance floor, having turned down an invitation to waltz. Nonetheless, she had a perfect view of Eleanor and her new husband as they swirled around the floor, their bodies in perfect time. They gazed at each other as they danced as if there were no one else in the room and the sight brought tears to Sarah’s eyes. She quickly shut them before they spilled, and as a result did not see Eleanor’s mother approach.
“Your time will come, dear,” Lady Chalcroft said in a gentle voice.
Sarah’s eyes snapped open and she lowered her arms.
“I—I only…That is, the sight of them is quite moving.”
Lady Chalcroft watched her daughter and Reading as they finished their dance. “Yes, they are happy. But two years ago it was quite a different story, as you know.” A shuttered look crossed Lady Chalcroft’s face and Sarah knew she was thinking of the years Eleanor spent hidden in Southwark, and her parents thought her lost for good. The elegant lady took a deep breath and turned back to Sarah.
“The point being, that I’m sure during that time, Eleanor despaired of any relationship between her and Reading—Mr. Fitzhugh at the time—working out. And yet look at her now.” She gestured across the room where Eleanor was now sipping from a glass of champagne under the adoring gaze of her husband.
“I suspect all is not lost with Mr. James,” Lady Chalcroft said, her gaze still on her daughter.
Sarah started and stared at Lady Chalcroft’s serene profile. She wondered just what the woman knew—Sarah hadn’t even confided her feelings for Sam to Eleanor…
“But he’s returned to America,” she finally said.
“Good heavens, do ships only sail in one direction? His sister lives here now, after all. I’m sure he’ll find himself on this side of the ocean soon enough.”
Sarah smiled. Lady Chalcroft made “this side of the ocean” sound like “the proper side of the ocean.”
“And if he does not or if he finds himself too stupid to realize what he’s lost, there are any number of eligible men in London, dear.”
Sarah started to protest but Lady Chalcroft kept talking.
“Perhaps not a nobleman—not that you aren’t worthy of one, mind you, but they can be a trifle high in the instep about their wives, er, running a business, as it were.”
Sarah smiled at Lady Chalcroft’s euphemism.
“But there are any number of men who should count themselves lucky to have a wife such as yourself, and who will be tolerant of your activities.”
This time Sarah had to bite the inside of her cheek to contain her giggle.
“Now, no more turning down invitations to dance. You must get out there and at least pretend to have a good time. Then one day, you’ll find you actually are.” Something in Lady Chalcroft’s voice made Sarah think she spoke from experience, but before she could ask her about it, the woman patted Sarah’s arm and sailed off.
Sarah was impressed that Lady Chalcroft—Cousin Elizabeth, she reminded herself—had noticed her turning down invitations, then realized there was probably very little Lady Chalcroft failed to notice in her little kingdom of the ton. Deciding it was best to follow her directive, Sarah smoothed her face into what she hoped was an inviting expression and began a slow perambulation around the room. She was halfway through her first circuit when she heard her name called.
“Miss Draper! I say, Miss Draper!”
She turned to see Lord Trowbridge approaching her, a wide smile on his face. She felt a moment’s hesitation at seeing Samuel James’ brother-in-law, but as he stopped in front of her with a proper bow, Sarah saw nothing but sincere good will in his face.
“Lord Trowbridge,” she said with a curtsey. “How lovely to see you.”
“Indeed,” he agreed. “Caroline and I have missed seeing you. My wife was quite take
n with you. She felt she’d met a—how did she phrase it? —ah yes, a kindred spirit.”
“Oh…I’ve been, er, quite occupied with the aid society.”
“Oh yes, of course. Quite the undertaking, that.”
“It is,” Sarah agreed, just to keep the conversation going. She wasn’t sure why he had sought her out. “Where is Lady Trowbridge?”
“Oh she’s about here somewhere,” he said with a wave of his hand. “She is the most sociable woman I’ve ever known. I say, would you care to dance?”
Sarah hesitated a moment, but recalling Lady Chalcroft’s admonition, smiled and took Lord Trowbridge’s hand.
The song was a quadrille, which involved much promenading about the dance floor, making it possible to keep up the conversation.
Lord Trowbridge asked her about Southwark and the people there. He seemed genuinely interested and mentioned how Caroline had expressed a desire to volunteer.
“You’ve quite won her over with your devotion to your vocation, Miss Draper. Although,” he continued with a slight flush and a grin. “I am afraid my lovely wife will be unable to contribute physically as she is, ah, in a delicate condition. It is the reason we returned early from our travels, you see.”
Sarah smiled warmly, having just caught sight of Lady Trowbridge dancing on the other side of the parquet floor. “I am very happy for you both. May I assume you’ve not made the news public?”
“Quite right,” Lord Trowbridge said. “Although I’ve privately told so many people, I very much fear it will soon be public knowledge.”
Sarah smiled again. Lord Trowbridge was so clearly besotted with anything having to do with his wife. It was very touching and caused that same funny little pang of longing she’d felt when watching Eleanor and Reading.
“Caroline will, however, contribute to your works, as she promised. Her brother insisted on providing for her quite handsomely in addition to her dowry. Caroline calls him a dreadfully managing sort, always trying to fix things for other people.” If Lord Trowbridge felt her physically start, he did not indicate it. “But I can’t help but think that such actions are simply demonstrations of his caring.”
Sarah studied Trowbridge’s face, looking for any hint that he was trying to deliver a message, but his classically handsome face was devoid of any subterfuge.
As the dance drew to a close, he said, “Oh! Look who we’ve ended up next to!”
Caroline and her partner were just bowing to each other and as she looked up and saw her husband, a beaming smile broke across her face.
“Darling,” she cooed and then seeing Sarah, exclaimed, “Miss Draper! How delightful to see you! Oh I am so glad to meet you here. I had hoped you would attend.”
Trowbridge offered an arm to each of them and escorted them to a quiet part of the room.
“Trowbridge, be a dear and fetch us some lemonade? The dancing has quite worn me out.” They shared a private smile and Trowbridge departed.
“Do tell me how you’ve been, Miss Draper. Or may I still call you Sarah?”
“Of course,” Sarah murmured. Caroline was slightly overwhelming with her energetic friendliness, not unlike her brother.
“I have quite missed furthering our acquaintance. Although we did have a perfectly splendid honeymoon, since we’ve been back, I’ve been at a loss as to how to contact you. I scarcely know my way around Mayfair—I have no idea where Southwark is. That is the correct name, isn’t it?”
“It is, but Lady Trowbridge, you should not venture into Southwark.”
“Please call me Caroline. And whyever not? You’re perfectly safe there, aren’t you?”
Sarah ignored that question and instead said, “I shall give you the direction of my kitchen and you may send word to me there should you like to meet here in the city.”
“Very well, but one day I should like to see you at work.”
Sarah hesitated. “Lord Trowbridge suggested that perhaps you should take extra care just now.”
Caroline laughed. “You’d think he was the first man to father a babe! I told him not to mention it until I was further along, although according to my mother-in-law, we should not speak of it at all until long after the babe is born. As if we found the poor thing under a cabbage leaf!”
Sarah laughed at that and they fell into an easy conversation about one lady’s gown and another gentleman’s dancing abilities, sipping lemonade delivered by Trowbridge who tactfully left them to their tête-à-tête.
Several minutes later and quite out of the blue, Caroline said, “So since my brother is not here and you are not in America, I can only assume he did something asinine.”
Sarah choked on her lemonade and the resultant burn in her throat made her eyes water.
“Ah…,” she began, at a loss as to how to respond.
“Oh you needn’t worry about offending me. My brother has long had asinine tendencies. He just usually does a better job at keeping them under control. Now do tell me what he’s done so I may berate him.”
“Oh no! That is to say—“ Sarah broke off, her cheeks flaming, but decided she was tired of always denying her feelings. Ever since her experience with Peter Greene, she’d closed off her heart, refusing to allow herself to truly get close to others. She’d even kept part of herself hidden from Eleanor and she was heartily sick of the effort it took. Deciding to take a risk, she said, “To be fair, I have a few, er, asinine qualities myself.”
“Oh good. Otherwise Sam would run roughshod over you.” Caroline turned more fully in her chair and Sarah realized again that Sam and his sister shared the same intense blue eyes. The sight made her heart clench with longing for him.
“Now,” Caroline said, as if there weren’t two hundred other people in the room. As if they weren’t celebrating Eleanor’s wedding. As if there was nothing more important than listening to Sarah’s story. “Tell me everything.”
And to her surprise, Sarah did.
Caroline was outraged at Peter Greene’s actions, horrified at Sarah’s parents washing their hands of her. Caroline’s eyes filled with tears as Sarah skimmed over the loss of her baby—there was no way she could tell that full story in a crowded London ballroom.
She confessed to falling in love with Sam, which made his sister smile in delight, and she described his announcement of their impending removal to America amidst the armload of gifts. At that, Caroline closed her eyes and shook her head.
“That man,” she sighed. “He really is very intelligent normally. And he’s generally attuned to other people’s feelings. It’s what makes his travel books so interesting to read; he doesn’t simply describe the places he’s visited, he describes the people. But when he gets an idea in his head, or should I say, in his heart, he sometimes forgets to consult those very people he most wants to include.
“This is not, mind you, an excuse of his idiotic habit. Why, when Trowbridge and I were courting, you would not believe what Samuel did.”
Sarah knew she shouldn’t pry, but suddenly any story of him was dear to her so she said, “What did he do?”
Caroline shook her head as she smiled. “Trowbridge and I met in Italy. He was on a Grand Tour and I had accompanied Sam. It was love at first sight for us and we both knew it. Sam, however, was afraid Trowbridge was simply indulging in a bit of holiday romance, so he had one of his friends pretend to court me.”
Sarah half-laughed, half-gasped. “He didn’t!”
“Oh I assure you, he did,” Caroline said with a sour expression. “He later said it was just to test Trowbridge. If his interest was not genuine, one rival would have shooed him off, or so he thought.”
Caroline glanced at Sarah as if reading her mind. “Do not agree with that idiotic idea!”
Sarah felt her cheeks flame. “Oh, I wasn’t!”
Caroline looked unconvinced but continued, “The point I’m trying to make is that if Sam had simply asked me, or good heavens, asked Trowbridge, we could have assured him that nothing in the world would prev
ent us from marrying. And his ridiculous subterfuges were unnecessary.”
“Clearly,” Sarah said.
“Again, I’m not excusing my idiot brother’s behavior. I’m simply giving you some insight into his thoughts so that you can more easily berate him for his high-handedness.”
Sarah frowned. “While I appreciate your consideration, I—well the fact of the matter is, your brother is in America and I am here.”
“Yes, and I am pregnant. If you think he won’t be here to welcome his first niece or nephew…” Caroline let her words trail off with a raised eyebrow.
“You are utterly diabolical, my lady,” Sarah said.
“Caroline,” she corrected.
The strains of a waltz began and Lord Trowbridge came to claim his wife for it. As Sarah watched them dance, she couldn’t help but wonder how far along Caroline was. No more than two or three months, she estimated which meant it could easily be six months until Samuel James was back in England, she thought with a sigh.
Eleanor’s father-in-law, the Earl of Southampton claimed Sarah for her second dance of the evening. The older gentleman—who had been the cause of Eleanor’s estrangement with Alex Fitzhugh two years ago—gallantly declared he was the luckiest man to secure her for the final dance. She laughed as he led her to the dance floor and caught sight of Lady Chalcroft, whose raised eyebrows clearly said, “When I advised you to dance, I meant with eligible gentlemen.” Sarah grinned sheepishly in response, but she figured small steps were in order for a woman who could count the number of balls she’d attended on one hand.
The evening came to an end with a tight hug from Eleanor.
“Thank you for everything, Sarah. You’ve made me who I am today.”
“Pish tosh,” Sarah said. “You made who you are today. I just allowed you to discover yourself while working your fingers to the bone.”
The two women stared at each other with happy tears in their eyes speaking more than words could convey. Finally Eleanor spoke, “I told Alex I couldn’t be away too long, but he’s planned a fortnight-long honeymoon. I shall be back to work the day we return.”
Lady Disdain Page 17