“There were too many rumors surrounding Meredith’s murder,” he said, even though he’d had no intention of saying any of this. “There were too many people speculating. I was bombarded by journalists asking questions, and the invitations were flooding in. People didn’t care about me or Meredith, they just wanted my notoriety to add intrigue to their dinner parties. I had no peace to mourn.”
“Did it work? Running to India?”
He smiled. How like her to see right through him.
“Yes. I saw things I would have never seen while attending balls and soirees and my parliamentary duties. I saw war and deprivation and death. I saw perseverance in the face of certain defeat, and I saw the resilience of the human spirit.” He had witnessed so many things. Things he would never tell anyone. Things he tried to forget and things he tried to never forget.
“They changed you, these things you saw.”
“They did. They made me realize that life isn’t about what ball you’re invited to or what people you associate with. It’s about what you do with the time you have.”
She reached across the carriage and put her hand over his. He looked into her eyes. “I’m proud of you,” she said softly.
“For growing up?”
“For growing.”
He looked away, discomfited.
“Is that where you were when I first arrived in London?”
“I had returned the day I received you. I’d been called back by the queen to give my report in person, and I had every intention of returning, even if she didn’t want me to.”
“And does she want you to?”
Did she sound a little breathless when she asked that? He wasn’t certain. “I don’t know. I’ve yet to meet with her. Every meeting we’ve scheduled, she has been indisposed and canceled.”
The carriage rattled to a stop and Ross fell silent. He’d never told anyone about the things he had seen, and while he hadn’t been specific, he’d told her more than he’d told any other person.
Before he could think more on that, the hack driver tapped the window with his whip, indicating they were at their destination. Ross hopped out and reached in to help Sara down. Her fingers felt so fragile in his, but he knew that to be false. She was as strong—stronger—than any woman he had ever met. She was fiercely loyal to her family and stubborn enough to keep her father going. She stood behind Meredith even though she admitted that her cousin was not all that society had deemed her to be. He knew she would make a formidable duchess, though not if she didn’t believe in herself.
He shelved that thought as they walked into Mrs. Kettles’s nethersken. The place was silent and empty. Sara looked around, and Ross knew she was looking for the children they had seen the last time, the ones who haunted her thoughts. He, too, wished to save everyone, but he was pragmatic enough to know that wasn’t possible. At least for one person. That was why it was imperative that they get bills passed in Parliament that would aid the orphaned children and protect them against the evils of the people who lived on the streets. Nevertheless he found himself looking in the corner where the blond waif had sat with the baby on her shoulder. That the place was empty was more disturbing than if they’d been there.
Mrs. Kettles entered from a back room. Her look was none too friendly when she spied them. “What d’ye want?”
“Good day, Mrs. Kettles. We are here to follow up on our previous visit. We were wondering if our brother has returned,” Sara said, taking the lead.
Mrs. Kettles glanced at Sara, then back at Ross. “No.”
She was lying. It was in the gleam of her eye and the way she squared her body toward them.
“I— We have reason to believe that he has been here,” Sara said.
“Ain’t seen ’im.”
“I believe you have,” Ross said quietly.
“You should leave.” The gleam in her eye turned to fear.
“Why?”
“I ain’t tellin’ you nothin’.”
“I promised to pay you handsomely.”
“I ain’t takin’ yer blunt. I ’ave a business to run, and some of me clients are not on the right side of the law. I take yer blunt, I lose their trust and I lose me business. Now git out.”
Ross’s back teeth came together. He’d never been ejected from such a place, and it rubbed him the wrong way. On the other hand, he understood what she was saying. If she lost her credibility with her tenants, then she would have no more tenants.
“Are you saying my brother is on the wrong side of the law?” Sara asked with a bite to her words.
“I ain’t sayin’ nothin’ more.” To emphasize her point, she pressed her lips together and glared at them.
Ross and Sara exchanged a glance. Their one good lead had just disappeared.
Ross took Sara’s arm and guided her out of the nethersken.
“That didn’t end well,” Sara murmured.
“No. Unfortunately not.”
“Do you think he was here?”
“I do. Recently, too. I’ll ask Montgomery if we can put a man in here to keep an eye on things. Maybe Charlie will return and we can follow him.”
He tried to propel her to the waiting carriage, but she dug her heels in. Ross sighed.
“What do you think happened to them?” She was referring to the children.
“It’s a transient area, Sara. They probably moved on. Maybe their parents found a job in a nice house.”
Sara’s look told him she didn’t believe that any more than he did. “I pray no harm has come to them.”
He did as well, but there was naught they could do unless they traipsed through the rookery looking for them and asking questions. That was a bad idea on many levels.
The ride back to Rossmoyne House was silent.
“We will find him,” Ross promised.
“I hope so.”
“Will you please stay at Rossmoyne House? At least until this person is caught and I know you’re safe. After that you’re free to go wherever you please.” The words hurt to say, but he had to say them. He didn’t want her leaving afterward, but that decision had to be Sara’s.
“I will stay,” she said, taking an enormous weight off his shoulders. “But only because I don’t wish to bring danger to the Blackbourne’s doorstep.”
“Fair enough.”
—
“Sara.”
Sara stared blankly until Grace snapped her fingers in front of Sara’s face, causing her to blink.
“You disappeared on me for a moment. Where did you go?”
Sara smiled thinly. “My head was in the clouds.”
“What were you thinking so deeply about?” Grace asked.
Sara passed a hand over her face. “Forgive me, Grace. I asked you to come here to help you plan your dinner party, and I’ve been no help at all.”
“You obviously have more on your mind than whether we should serve lamb or beef.”
Sara hadn’t told Grace about the latest letter or the threat it contained. She didn’t want to alarm her friend. Although she’d had to ask Grace to come to Rossmoyne House because Ross would not allow her to go to Grace’s without him. And how awkward would it be to drag Ross to a dinner planning? Grace would have known something was amiss.
“I remember a time when you cornered me in a teahouse and forced me to talk about my problems.”
Sara smiled at the memory of the time when Grace’s husband, thought dead for nearly a year, returned from war injured, a changed man. Grace had been wasting away, trying to juggle it all and refusing to ask for help.
“I merely offered friendship,” Sara said.
Grace leaned forward. “I am doing the same.”
Sara looked down at the invitations in front of her. The ones she had been tasked to write and hadn’t yet.
“Is it Rossmoyne?” Grace asked.
“Yes. And no.”
Grace rolled her eyes. “Must I pull it out of you word by word?”
“I have feelings for him.
” There. She’d finally said it out loud, but that didn’t make her feel any better. In fact, it made her feel worse.
“That was not said with any degree of happiness. Love should not make you miserable.”
“I didn’t say that word.”
Grace’s eyes twinkled. “And what word would that be?”
“The love word.”
“So you are not in love with him?”
Sara pressed her lips together. She would not say that, either.
“It’s a simple yes-or-no answer, Sara.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Very well. What is holding you back from loving him?”
“It’s not feasible.”
Grace laughed. “Love never is, dear friend.”
Sara pulled the invitations closer to her. “We should focus on what you came here for. I’m sure Lord Blackbourne is expecting you home soon.”
Grace tugged the invitations out of Sara’s hands. “As a matter of fact, he is not. Ross is in love with you.”
“What?” The word came out as a high-pitched squeak. “He is certainly not.”
Grace shrugged. “I know only what I see, and I see the way he looks at you. Why did you ask me to come here instead of coming to my house?”
“Because Ross thought it was better this way.”
Grace smirked. The wretch.
“That has nothing to do with love.” Sara was an obligation to him. A way for him to right past wrongs. Even though she disagreed with him. “I have to return to Hadley Springs and my father.”
Grace sighed. “Not that again.”
“Yes, that again. He needs me, Grace.”
“I don’t want to be cruel, but Sara, honey, your father has no idea if you’re there or not.”
Well, that hurt. If her father didn’t need her, then what was her purpose in life? She had no one. Her mother had moved on without them. And Meredith…Meredith had never needed her in the first place. Grace was busy with her husband and everything that entailed. Sara looked away and blinked back tears.
“Oh, Sara.” Grace squeezed her arm. “Forgive me. It was not my purpose to hurt your feelings. Oh, dear. I shouldn’t have said anything. I should have kept my mouth closed. Will you ever forgive me?”
“There’s nothing to forgive. However, you are wrong. If I weren’t there, Father would forget to eat or even leave his laboratory. He needs someone to take care of him.”
Sara had to look away from the pity in Grace’s eyes. She could practically hear what her friend was thinking: The housekeeper was performing those tasks while Sara was gone.
“He worries about me,” she said weakly.
“Of course he does. But you’re still young, Sara. You can’t put your life on hold indefinitely because your father worries about you.”
“Put my life on hold? This is my life. There’s nothing to put on hold.” Oh, she sounded pitiful, but that was the hard truth.
“What would you do if your father and mother reunited? What would you do with your new life?”
Marry Ross. She pushed that thought away almost immediately. It was a hope she dared not hope. But there was one other thing. A wish, a desire that swirled around her in the dark of night, something she’d never put to words. “I want to do something for all the homeless children in London.”
It was as if a missing piece of her had fallen into place when she first thought of this; it felt right. She knew without a doubt that was her passion and her mission. And she knew that even if she stayed with her father, she would somehow find a way to make it a priority. She thought of the children at Mrs. Kettles’s, of the girl in the corner with the baby, of the hopelessness in their eyes even at such a young age, of the desperation that cloaked them and drove them to do what it took to survive. More than she wanted anything in her life, she wanted to help them.
With the exception of wanting Ross, but that was not possible.
She found herself telling Grace about the rookery, Mrs. Kettles, and the children she saw the first time who were missing the second time.
“That’s very admirable. I think you would be a wonderful voice for the children who have no voice,” Grace said.
Sara wasn’t certain how she would go about it, but she knew one thing: She had a very considerable dowry that was just sitting there and would continue to sit there because she had no use for it.
“Well,” Grace said, “now that we have your life figured out, I need one more single gentleman to round out the dinner party, and the invitations can be sent.”
Sara turned her attention back to the dinner party, but her thoughts were swirling with possibilities that had been beyond her just a moment ago. For the first time in a long time she was truly excited about something.
“I would invite Lord Newport,” she said. “He always makes a wonderful dinner companion.”
“Lord Newport it is, then.” Grace penned the invitation for Lord Newport while Sara lost herself in her plans.
Chapter 26
Ross watched Sara as they rode in the carriage to Lord and Lady Blackbourne’s small dinner party.
She was quiet tonight. Contemplative. That worried him. When she thought deeply, it never boded well for him; inevitably, her thoughts centered on why they could not be together.
And lately, his thoughts had centered on why they should be together.
Hang society. If she was uncomfortable in it, then he didn’t have to be in it. He didn’t like society all that much anyway, although occasionally, it was a necessary part of his position. He would find some way to make it all work, as long as it meant that he could have Sara in his life forever.
He was still somewhat surprised by his feelings for her. His mother was correct: Sara was not the type of woman Ross was normally attracted to. But now he could see that the women he was normally attracted to were not whom he needed in his life.
Sara was meant to be his duchess.
He wanted to talk to her about that, to tell her his revelations, but his mother was also in the carriage, and he was not discussing this with his mother present. She’d done enough damage.
When they arrived at the Blackbournes’ townhouse, Ross got out first and helped his mother out, then after a quick look around, he helped Sara out. She would say he was being overly cautious. He thought he wasn’t being cautious enough. The last letter had been a real threat, in his mind, and he was taking all the precautions he could.
James was riding with the carriage driver. Ross would not leave Sara’s side. The servants at Rossmoyne House were apprised of the situation and on high alert. Montgomery was working diligently to find the letter writer; Ross had hired a few people to keep an eye on Mrs. Kettles’s establishment; and of course there was Thomas. The boy was very good at what he did and savvy enough that Ross trusted him. Other than locking Sara in a room and not letting her out, there was not much else he could do.
They entered the Blackbournes’ drawing room and were greeted by Lady Grace Ashworth, the Countess of Blackbourne. She was a pretty lady. Not beautiful by society’s standards, but her smile and grace made her beautiful. She was tall and angular, too thin for Ross’s liking, but that was neither here nor there.
Sara and Grace hugged, a true friendship hug and not a silly touching of the cheeks. They began chattering away, and Ross’s eyes glazed over. He visually searched the room and found Lord Blackbourne to the side, watching everything.
Ross knew a bit about Blackbourne. He had fought in the Crimean War and was reportedly killed during a battle. Obviously, the death pronouncement had been wrong: Blackbourne had resurfaced a year later to take over the earldom. Sara had hinted that things were not so wonderful when the Blackbournes were reunited, but she had been relatively tight-lipped regarding specifics. Ross headed for Blackbourne.
The earl tipped his head toward Ross. “Your Grace, welcome to my home.”
“My lord, please call me Ross.”
They fell into a companionable silence, watchin
g Blackbourne’s guests. Ross was looking for anyone out of the ordinary or anyone who would pose a threat to Sara. It could be anyone here, or it could be no one. It was such a frustrating process, trying to find this miscreant.
Blackbourne asked Ross about India, and they had a lively conversation. Ross was well aware that he could be overly passionate about the topic, but Blackbourne didn’t seem to mind. He mostly nodded, interjecting infrequently, but Ross could tell he was listening and interested.
They were called in to dinner, where Ross was disappointed to discover that he would not be seated next to Sara. He was up the table from her and had to settle for quick glances at her, which was frustrating.
Despite her aversion to social functions, she was really quite good at them. She spoke to those on either side of her, Lord Newport on one side and the much older Lord Cranley on the other. She smiled and laughed occasionally and was otherwise simply perfect.
Since his mother had taken Sara shopping, he’d noticed an improvement in her gowns. No longer were they a drab brown or a color that washed out her complexion. Tonight she wore a simple gown in spring green with little adornment. Truth be told, she didn’t need adornment; nor did she seem to want it. Unlike Meredith.
He shoved that thought away. It wasn’t fair to compare Sara to Meredith. Ross had quickly discovered that the two were not alike in any way.
He liked that.
The women rose and left the men to their drink and their cigars. Ross had never been a cigar smoker, so he nursed the excellent whiskey that Blackbourne provided and leaned back to listen to the men.
Newport was the same as he’d ever been. Brash and loud, working too hard to fit in. Newport had always circled the periphery of the group Ross and Meredith had socialized with, desperate to be part of it but never fully accepted. He was one of those individuals who never quite fit in anywhere no matter how hard he tried. It seemed time had not changed him. He drank too fast and bragged too much. Ross tuned him out and turned his attention to Blackbourne, who was much more agreeable to speak to.
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