Regency High Society Vol 6: The Enigmatic Rake / The Lord And The Mystery Lady / The Wagering Widow / An Unconventional Widow. Anne O'Brien
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are very good for my self-esteem, Beth.’ The mockery was still there, but gentler. And although his reply was for his daughter, his eyes were still fixed on Sarah’s.
‘I must go in.’ Mrs Russell took a step away from him in clear retreat.
‘Of course.’ He managed the slightest of bows. ‘I have to thank you, Mrs Russell.’
‘I have done nothing to earn your thanks, my lord.’
‘I think you have. In many ways.’ An enigmatic reply, which did nothing to still Sarah’s heightened emotions.
Lord Joshua Faringdon, as he made his way slowly from stable to house, was left thinking, beyond question, that he knew one means of improving his housekeeper’s life. He could suddenly think of no better solution. The clarity of the plan all but took his breath away.
Later that same evening the blinding moment of revelation—but a revelation of quite what he was still unsure—continued to trouble his lordship. He sat in the library, staring blindly at the untouched glass of port. Was he having second thoughts? Undoubtedly. Even third thoughts, he decided. He did not wish to marry. Had no intention of ever marrying again. Had no belief in the strength or lasting quality of love. Would seriously have denied its very existence if pressed closely. Certainly there had been no evidence of its overwhelming power in his relationship with women.
So why the hell should it have come into his mind with the force of a lightning bolt that marriage to Sarah Russell was an outcome to be desired and pursued? There must be other, simpler, more predictable solutions to her—and his—predicament. And there was no certainty that she would actually be tempted to accept his offer. No suggestion in her manner that she felt anything toward him other than a mild tolerance. Except for that one moment that very afternoon—a slap of physical awareness such as he had never before experienced. The reaction in her own eyes as they had flown to his, held there, he could not say. Yet the image of her in the garden, laughing and joyous, came clear and unbidden into his mind. Once there, he could not shake it loose. Of course he did not love her. So why he should even consider to entangle himself in marriage he had no idea.
But he cared about her. Felt a strong urge—if he were feeling poetic, he thought with a quick grin—to stand as shield between her own slight figure and all the slings and arrows that the world might unleash against her. To see and hear her laugh and smile every day. To laugh and smile at him, with him.
He drank the port in disgust. He must truly be going out of his mind. His thoughts on this problem were neither sensible nor logical. And yet he was still gripped by a terrible conviction that marriage was the right step to take.
There again, his mind coming full circle and still as undecided as ever, if he did pursue this objective, would Sarah Russell agree? Knowing what he did of the lady, he had grave room to doubt it.
‘You wished to speak with me, my lord. And I have brought the menu for this evening if you would wish to approve it.’
Lord Faringdon stood with his back to Sarah, studying the view from the window, his thoughts engaged elsewhere. Nor did he immediately turn as she announced her presence. Which gave her the opportunity to study the firm set of his shoulders, the confident tilt of his head with its magnificent fall of hair. And it gave her an even greater sense of unease. Of foreboding.
‘Mrs Russell. Yes, indeed. If you would care to sit.’ He turned at last and indicated a chair beside his desk.
So it had come at last. Dismissal, with or without references. Sarah chose not to sit, but continued to stand before him, chin raised, as he approached. She had done no wrong. If he chose to dispense with her services, there was nothing she could do to change his mind. She would not think, she would definitely not think of that one moment when she had touched him, when the connection between them had raced through her blood with all the force of a summer flood. When their eyes had locked with such intensity, something vital holding them suspended in time. No. No good could come from dwelling on that.
‘Let us try for some honesty here.’ His words surprised her and his voice had an edge. ‘You have, as you are aware, presented me with a problem. I do not wish to employ you, for reasons that are plain to us both. But I know that if I terminate your employment here you will immediately seek another position elsewhere, perhaps not to your benefit or your comfort. Or even your peace of mind.’
She waited, brows raised, heart beating insistently in her throat. There was nothing she could add to his assessment of the situation. Nor could she guess where this was leading. His face was stern as if he had come at last to a difficult decision and was not now to be deterred.
‘I have thought about it all at some length. I feel a responsibility toward you because of the family connection through Theodora. I have a proposition to make.’ He paused as he swept her from head to foot with eyes that expressed all his exasperation with females who refused to take good advice. ‘I wish you would sit down, Mrs Russell.’
‘I would rather stand, my lord.’
‘I am aware. But you might consider my parlous state of health. If you stand, then so must I—as a gentleman.’ She could not mistake the sneer.
‘Forgive me. It was not my intention to be insensitive.’ Colour warmed her cheeks as she took the offered seat. It was so easy for him to put her in the wrong! What sort of proposition would he possibly make that did not include her dismissal? On a sudden thought her blood ran from heated to ice in her veins. Her throat dried. She could only think of one proposition. And now that the Countess of Wexford was no longer in residence…
Unaware of this shocking line of thought, Lord Faringdon continued.
‘I have seen how you have settled here in so short a time. I have seen how my daughter has taken to you. She has begun to blossom, begun to behave like a little girl rather than a matron of advanced years. And your own son too is content, I think. I believe it is important for everyone that you remain here in my household.’
It seemed more and more likely to Sarah, with every word that he uttered, that she was about to receive an offer that would humiliate her beyond bearing. She discovered that she was holding her breath and her fingers closed, white-knuckled, on the arms of the chair. She forced herself to breathe again.
‘So I would ask you…’ He rose to his feet and walked forward toward her. Without the cane, she could see the return of grace and well-muscled ease. He reached out and took her hand, which still clutched, albeit wrinkled, the list of dishes for the evening meal, and unlatched it from the chair.
‘No. You must not… ‘ She snatched away her hand into her lap, taking him aback.
Lord Joshua frowned. ‘What must I not?’
‘You must not make such a proposition. I would remain as your housekeeper and governess to your daughter. Never anything else.’
‘What proposition?’
‘And if you do make it, it will make it impossible for me to stay under your roof in any event. Please do not, my lord. I beg of you…’
‘Do not what…?’ His frown darkened as the light dawned.
‘I will not be your mistress, my lord,’ Sarah whispered. ‘How would you think it?’
‘Mrs Russell!’ He fisted his hands on his hips, more in frustration than anger. Oh, God! So much for reputations. When he had tried to deal with the whole matter with some sensitivity. ‘Is that what you thought I would offer you?’
‘Why… yes. What other could you possibly offer me?’
He took her hand again, both of them, in fact, removing the list to discard it on the floor, and drew her to her feet. This time he held on when she tugged. ‘Mrs Russell—it would be the greatest discourtesy imaginable to you to suggest such a thing. It was not my intention to offer to take you under my protection. Your opinion of me is not very high, is it?’ And nor of yourself. How can you have so little notion of the light in which I see you? Of the respect in which I hold you?
‘But…