A Suitable Husband Page 11

  His logic was unanswerable. If she was to share her body with him soon a few kisses could hardly matter, so why should she not relax and enjoy it? She leant into his embrace, loving the feel of his hard legs behind her. ‘You are right, Oliver, I am being missish. It is not as though such things are new to me, after all.’

  The reminder that she had once belonged to another man could not have pleased Oliver. He ran his hands insolently over her breasts before removing them. Back rigid he vanished inside leaving Sarah feeling embarrassed and humiliated. She shook her head crossly and then followed him, intending to demand an explanation.

  However, the room was empty. He had gone. Whatever he had once intended to say to her was obviously not that important. She rang for Thomas. She would retire but first she had some plans to make. The housekeeper came bustling in. ‘I intend to go to Town, Thomas. Can you send ahead and have the house made ready for a visit?’

  ‘When are you expecting to leave, madam?’

  ‘The day after tomorrow. The roads are dry and, if we set out early, we will be in London by the evening.’

  ‘Very well, madam. I will go myself, tomorrow and sort things out. It must be two years since we were there and no doubt the staff have allowed things to slip in your absence.’

  ‘Good. Captain Mayhew and Edward will be accompanying me, of course. And accommodations will have to be made for the extra men who will be travelling with us.’

  ‘You will be taking Beth and Sally, I expect, madam.’

  ‘Of course; and you had better take two of the parlour maids with you. You will need the extra staff.’

  ‘Do you intend to entertain, madam?’

  ‘No; the season is all but over.’

  ‘In that case we will have enough staff to manage. Will that be all, Mrs Haverstock?’

  ‘I am going to retire. You can lock up after me.’

  ‘Captain Mayhew has gone out again. I will need to wait up for him. Goodnight, madam.’

  Sarah waited for the door to close behind the housekeeper before allowing her annoyance to escape. ‘Drat the man! He has no right to keep my staff up; he is most inconsiderate.’

  ‘How very kind of you to say so, my love.’ The deep voice that spoke from the terrace so startled her she dropped the lamp she had picked up to light her way to the bedroom.

  She screamed as the oil spilled and the flames flicked greedily at her skirt hem. Then she was on the floor, being rolled furiously inside the Persian rug. Seconds later she was free and sobbing against Oliver’s chest.

  ‘Hush, darling. It’s over. You’re unhurt. The fire’s out.’

  But she was shaking so much she was almost incapable of answering. ‘If you had not been there, I should have been burnt alive.’

  In answer he carried her to the nearest chair and sat down, cradling her close to his heart. ‘My love, if I had not been here, the accident would not have happened in the first place.’

  Chapter Twelve

  The aftermath of the second fire was not as disastrous as the first. It involved no more than a ruined dress, a broken oil lamp and burnt rug. It also repaired the rift in Oliver and Sarah’s relationship and they parted, that night, on excellent terms. He wished they had not parted at all.

  This accident had revealed to him a startling fact. He had avoided becoming entangled with hopeful young ladies and falling into parson’s mousetrap for his entire adult life. Finally, at two and thirty, not only was he approaching his marriage willingly he had actually fallen in love with his future wife.

  When he had seen Sarah with flames at her feet he had known, that if he lost her, his life would have no meaning. She was his heart, the very breath he breathed. As he stripped off his smoke damaged evening shirt he considered just how his change of feelings was going to alter his life.

  Before his affections had become engaged he had been quite content to marry Sarah on her terms: be a father to Edward, manage the estates and provide her with the babies she craved to fill the empty nursery. This was no longer going to be possible. Loving Sarah meant he needed her to love him in return. Without this, making love to her would not be possible and he decided he would no longer be able to fulfil his side of the bargain.

  There were still six weeks to the wedding; perhaps this was time enough to woo his wayward bride into admitting she loved him. One thing was certain; he would not reveal his true feelings until he was sure that Sarah returned them.

  ***

  Sarah come out to watch the carriages, taking their baggage, Thomas and the parlour maids to London, prepare to leave. ‘Edward, Rags cannot come with us. He is still too weak; the heat and noise would make him ill again.’

  ‘But, Mama, he will pine on his own. I have left him for a single night, never a whole week.’Sarah ruffled his hair. ‘Elsie will take good care of him. He loves her too, does he not?’ She watched Sam and Jack load the last trunk into the baggage cart. The housekeeper and the two girls clambered into the ancient carriage. Edward was distracted by the activity and wandered off to say his farewells to Sam, who was driving the carriage, and Jack who had been promoted to under-groom.

  The two vehicles rattled out of the yard. She felt the warm weight of Rags against her leg. ‘How are you, boy? Still too tired to run after Edward, but never mind, you will be back to normal soon enough.’ The dog thumped his tail and pressed harder, leaving her delicate, muslin gown liberally covered with dog hairs. Sarah didn’t care. Like the entire household she was so glad the dog had not died that he now had carte blanche to behave as he wished. Ruefully she had acknowledged her son’s pet had a permanent position inside the house.

  She had not spoken privately to Oliver that morning; for some reason whenever she approached he appeared to find urgent business in the opposite direction. For once her conscience was clear: she had done nothing that could possibly have offended him. Maybe she was imagining it, after all he had his men to organise and an estate to run.

  The letters informing her father and her sister of the date of her forthcoming marriage had been dispatched. Thomas had been instructed to deliver a letter to her lawyers containing the details of her wishes with regard to the estate and her funds. The note also asked them to call on her at a specified time. ‘Edward, I am going in. You will stay near the house, will you not? Remember what you have been told.’ She still could not bring herself to refer to Oliver as Edward’s father.

  ‘Yes, Mama. Rags can’t go far, and I’ll stay with him.’

  The Hepworth’s had sent word they were intending to call that afternoon. Sarah feared the visit would revolve around her wedding plans. It was going to be difficult to lie to Harriet and pretend this was a love match but she had no choice. Her friends would be horrified if they knew that not only had she proposed the match herself but her reasons for so doing had nothing to do with love and everything to do with expediency and convenience.

  It was imperative she talked to Oliver before they arrived. It would not do for them to appear as anything other than besotted with each other. She giggled at the notion: he was a soldier to the core. The gentler emotions did not feature in his makeup. Passion and lust; yes, he had more than enough of that, but she was sure he was not capable of love.

  Then she recalled the picture of her son being cradled on his lap - perhaps she was misjudging him. After all he did love her son. But a woman? She doubted he had ever seen a female as more than a warm body in the dark, to be used and discarded the next morning.

  Sarah caught a fleeting glimpse of broad, blue serge covered shoulders and black top-boots but sensibly refrained from calling out: Oliver would inevitably vanish if she did so. She ran him to earth in the estate office at the back of the house. ‘There you are Oliver. I have to speak to you.’

  He pulled out a plain wooden chair for her to sit on. ‘If you must, my dear, I suppose I will have
to listen.’ He sounded so dejected at the prospect that Sarah forgot about her vow to remain polite in all circumstances.

  ‘For heaven’s sake, Oliver, what’s the matter? You have a face as long as a wheelbarrow this morning. And you are trying to avoid me? There is no point in denying it, you know.’

  His face was sober when he spoke. ‘I have no intention of denying it, Sarah. I decided it was safer, for both of us, to remain as far from each other as possible. Good God, woman, my stupidity nearly caused your death last night. I am surprised you can bring yourself to speak to me.’

  ‘Don’t be so ridiculous. Your prompt action saved my life; something you appear to be making a habit of, I might add.’

  Slowly his mouth curved and his eyes held a suspicious glitter. ‘So, my love, I am both ridiculous and stupid. It’s a miracle that you think I’m capable of running this estate.’

  Sarah’s eyes twinkled in response. ‘You are so right; I am momentarily considering placing it in Edward’s capable hands.’

  His smile flipped her heart over. ‘I’m serious, Sarah. Are you quite sure you wish to continue with all this?’ He gestured vaguely around the room. ‘I’ll quite understand if you wish to break the engagement.’

  Sarah leant across the scratched pine table and placed her hands on his. ‘Never! I am happy as things are.’ She sat back and smiled. ‘And anyway it’s too late; I have told both my sister and my father and the banns are being called this Sunday.’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure, then I must give you this.’ He reached into his waistcoat pocket and removed a small box, almost shyly, and dropped it into her hand. ‘It was my grandmother’s. She gave it to me on my majority.’

  She undid the intricate gold filigree clasp and flicked back the lid. ‘Oh, Oliver! This is lovely!’ She removed the exquisite ring, and was about to slip it on, then paused, staring at her plain gold wedding band. She hesitated for an instant before slowly slipping it off her finger and dropping it into the empty box. She held the ring out to him and he took it and, holding her left hand, gently pushed the ring down her finger. It fitted as though it had been made for her.

  Sarah eyed it with unfeigned delight. ‘I love it. The setting is so intricate. The central emerald and the small golden stones all round it are quite beautiful.’

  ‘The golden stones are topaz. The ring came originally from Persia, I believe, hundreds of years ago.’ The removal of the wedding band and its replacement with the engagement ring was truly significant. By so doing Sarah had demonstrated she was placing herself, and her son, in his hands.

  They smiled, for once, in perfect accord. She moved her hands and placed them firmly in her lap then resumed her usual brisk, impersonal manner. ‘Oliver, exactly how have you organised this journey? Do your men travel on the carriage or do they ride with you?’

  ‘Jenkins and Smith, as the only two who can ride, will do so. Peters and Murray will ride on the coach. I will lead, of course.’

  ‘I thought that, Tom coachman, and William, my head-groom, who are both experienced, should drive my carriage. They have faced footpads twice and on both occasions the accuracy of William’s shots frightened them away.’

  ‘In which case he’s an excellent choice, although I don’t anticipate there’ll be any trouble of that sort. I doubt even our enemy would be foolhardy enough to attack a coach with six armed men accompanying it.’

  Sarah nodded. ‘I would not contemplate this journey if I thought I was placing Edward in danger.’

  ‘At what time will you be ready to leave?’

  ‘At six o’clock. I would like to accomplish the journey whilst it is still cool. Travelling becomes intolerable when the weather is hot.’

  ‘Excellent. I shall send the remaining men ahead to check that local lanes before we leave. Once we are on the toll road we shall be safe from attack.’

  Sarah pushed her chair back. ‘I am looking forward to this visit. It is two years since I was in town and Edward was far too young to remember much. I have promised him we will take him to see the Tower.’

  ‘I shall look forward to that. When do you see your lawyers?’ The inquiry was made without noticeable change of inflection, but this aspect of her trip still rankled.

  ‘I have asked them to attend me at the house on Thursday, at ten o’clock. This will leave ample time for any adjustments and alterations I might require to be done and still leave space for them to be returned to me for signing, before we travel home.’ Sarah ignored his sour expression. ‘Have you any meetings planned with those who are checking the marriage records?’

  ‘They are well able to search without interference from me. If they uncover the names we seek they will let me know immediately.’ The atmosphere had now moved from pleasant to strained and she had no wish to out-stay her fragile welcome.

  She stood up. ‘Actually I came to tell you Lord and Lady Hepworth, and their daughters, will be coming this afternoon. They will expect to see you too.’

  ‘And I shall not disappoint them.’ He half bowed and she nodded and left. Their meeting had once more ended unsatisfactorily. It would seem that they were both incapable of remaining on good terms for more than a brief moment.

  ***

  Sarah, Oliver and Edward waited, on the steps, to greet the Hepworths. Oliver had appeared, at the last possible moment, impeccably dressed in dark-grey top coat, crisp white shirt, pale blue waistcoat and impressively tied neck cloth. His breeches were fashionably skin-tight and his Hessians restored to their original shine. He was the epitome of an attentive bridegroom, a happy smile pinned securely to his face. Only she knew he was play-acting.

  She had dressed with equal care in an afternoon gown, with a pale green underskirt, short capped sleeves and white sarcenet overdress. She had had her hair dressed in a coronet and Beth had threaded matching green ribbons through the braid. Her left hand, new ring prominently displayed, rested on his right arm. Edward was resplendent in brown nankeen breeches and matching jacket. They made a handsome picture, which did not go unremarked by their visitors.

  Lady Hepworth hurried forward to embrace Sarah. ‘My dear, I am so glad you have set a date. I have brought with me some copies of ‘La Belle Assemblée’ which have but recently arrived. There are several gowns depicted which would make a perfect wedding dress.’

  Lord Hepworth shook Oliver heartily by the hand. ‘Well done, my boy. Shall we leave the ladies to their plans? I would like to hear, in person, about the latest atrocities.’ The party divided. Oliver and Lord Hepworth vanished speedily to the study. Edward, and his four young aunts, led the way noisily to the drawing-room where tea, scones, and cakes were to be served.

  Sarah and Harriet followed more quietly, but equally pleased to see each other. The girls, who ranged in age from Sophia, seventeen, and about to make her curtsy to society, to Lucinda, ten, near enough Edward’s age to be a friend. Sophia joined Sarah and her mother by the tea tray. Her sisters and Edward lay across the carpet, a box of spillikins scattered in front of them.

  Harriet studied Sarah closely. ‘Are you sure, my dear? This is a big step you are taking; do not let my silly remarks, and the present difficult circumstances, push you into something you might later regret.’

  ‘I am quite sure, thank you, Harriet. Oliver will make a wonderful father and a good husband.’ She smiled and her eyes shone with sincerity. ‘I have been on my own too long.’

  Harriet, convinced, allowed her delight to show. ‘He is perfect for you, my love. I could not have chosen better for you myself.’

  Over light scones, sticky strawberry jam and Cook’s own recipe fruitcake, the dresses were selected and the plans made. Charity, Chloe and Lucinda were delighted to be asked to be Sarah’s flower girls and walk ahead of her, to the church, scattering rose petals on the path.

  Harriet insisted that the wedding breakfast wou
ld be held at Hepworth House. As the celebration was to be a small affair, immediate family only were attending, everyone could be accommodated easily under her roof. Although both Sarah and Harriet had not mentioned it, they knew that, unless the mystery surrounding the attempted assassinations was solved and the perpetrators unmasked, there would be no wedding. It would be far too dangerous.

  Eventually the visit ended and they made their farewells. Lord Hepworth declared himself satisfied with the arrangements made for the journey to London and Lady Harriet and her daughters were delighted with the wedding plans.

  Oliver stepped away from Sarah as soon as the coach was out of sight. ‘I will not be joining you for dinner this evening, Sarah. I still have much to do.’

  ‘In that case I will eat in my room. As we intend to leave at six o’clock, we all need to retire early.’

  ‘Edward, I will see you in the morning. Are you looking forward to your visit to London?’

  The little boy beamed, unaware of the tension. ‘I am. I have a book with pictures of the sites. I can’t wait to see them.’

  Oliver stoked Edward’s hair, nodded to Sarah, and headed off towards the Dower House where his ten men were billeted. Sadly, Sarah returned to the drawing-room beginning to regret her decision to leave the familiar surroundings of Rowley Court and travel to Town in the company the man who plainly wished to be anywhere but with her.

  ***

  The early-morning mist was still drifting between the trees and the lake when Sarah, Edward, Beth and Sally took their places in the smart, travelling coach. The four horses, chestnut coats gleaming, stamped impatiently, eager to be off.

  The vehicle rocked alarmingly as the riflemen scrambled to their positions at the rear. Sarah heard the thump of their weapons as they were rested, primed and ready, on the roof. Then she saw Oliver emerge, mounted on a magnificent grey stallion, and followed closely by Jenkins and Smith on sturdy bay hunters.