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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Faringdon dined à deux at home with a reasonable show of unity, finding enough food for conversation to carry them through the various dishes in the first and second courses. Perhaps with no real appetite, but with no serious conflict, or even a need to discuss the little matter of murder. Sarah was perfectly willing to follow her lord’s lead. What would be the value in their discussing so contentious an issue when there was nothing further to be said, when Joshua was as tight-lipped as one of the oysters on her plate? Until, that is, they reached the dessert, a marvellous confection of peaches in heavy syrup and spun sugar.
Lord Joshua found that he had no appetite; he did not pick up his spoon.
‘Sarah—I find a need to go to Paris.’
‘Oh.’ Her eyes immediately flew from her plate to his face, her enjoyment of the sweetness effectively destroyed by that one short statement. ‘When?’
‘In two days.’
If he saw a flicker of disappointment, a deepening of the little lines of concern that marked the fair skin beside her eyes when she was troubled, he thought he might have been mistaken. Or perhaps not. He was now intimately acquainted with Sarah’s ability to hide her thoughts.
‘Some business that has come up.’ I know it is a lame excuse, but it is the best I can do.
‘Of course.’ What business? Has the Countess of Wexford gone back to Paris? Surely he has not arranged an assignation! But I asked that I should not be required to meet and acknowledge his mistress. This would be an ideal solution to the problem. To continue the affair in Paris when I am far away! Her heart fell to the level of her satin shoes. She too put down her spoon.
‘Will it be a short visit?’ She kept her voice admirably calm, tried for a smile, which was not as successful, so skilfully raised her napkin to her lips to cover it.
‘I do not know. A week or two, perhaps longer.’
‘Very well.’ Even worse! Some would say that he is also going to ensure that there is no evidence to be discovered of the murder of poor Marianne. Many would say that. But I cannot—I will not—accept that. The possibilities rushed into her mind, rendering her almost light-headed.
Joshua watched his wife as she licked the sugar from one finger, her skin suddenly very pale. She would never ask him what he intended to do in Paris. Of course she would not. As a partner in a marriage of convenience he knew that she would be very careful of her status, ask nothing of him other than he was prepared to give on his own initiative. The thought touched his heart with compassion. And as at Richmond when she had so desperately wanted to ride with him, a desire to give her more than she was prepared to ask. So he made his decision in the blink of an eye. What was there to decide, after all? He knew what he wanted—he would not think about his reasons for it—but he also knew what would be the best for Sarah at this crucial time in their marriage. He had tried to distance himself. That had been a disaster and he could not do it again. It would be cruelty itself to leave her here alone to face the accusations, even more for her to have to tolerate Felton’s intrusive shadowing in his absence. She would assuredly think the worst of her absent husband if he abandoned her in cold blood.
He could not leave her. Had known it as soon as Nicholas had challenged him over it.
So he abandoned any attempt to eat Mrs Beddows’s masterpiece with some relief and cast his napkin on the table.
‘Sarah. Yes, I am going to Paris. But you are coming with me. Go and instruct your maid to pack some clothes. Not many, mind. You can enjoy the glories of Parisian fashion when you get there.’
‘Me?’ It was almost a squeak. She pushed aside her spoon with a clatter. ‘You will take me to Paris?’ Whatever she had expected, it was not this.
‘You, my dear wife. I have arranged for the children to stay with Judith.’ Well, he would do so first thing in the morning. ‘Don’t argue!’ as he saw her lips part. ‘Beth and John will enjoy it. Judith will spoil them inordinately. I need some time alone with you, away from the wagging tongues. Let us call it a late wedding visit, if you wish.’ He built his case skilfully unless she would still refuse. But what woman would? ‘I need to introduce you to Paris and you need to inspect our property there. It is Carnival, with much to entertain and amuse.’
‘Well… If you think… ‘
‘And I have suggested that Nick and Thea join us for a short time. That will be company for you when I need to be elsewhere.’ He applied the layers with sly expertise.
‘Yes…’
‘You will spend a considerable amount of my money and enjoy it.’ And before she could deny it: ‘It is in our contract, so I insist.’
‘But I—’
‘Sarah! I think I should also have included in that damned document that you would not argue with me at every step. There is nothing for you to do but be ready to go to France within the week. I have a yacht, which is awaiting us in Dover harbour. Can you be ready?’
‘Yes. Oh, yes.’ A glow of colour suffused her cheeks. He could not resist, but leaned over and kissed her tinted cheek, the most gentle of caresses. And then, because the temptation was too great, and she was so close, her soft lips. They were warm and offered everything he could ask. But he drew back.
And laughed aloud as the look of startled surprise on her face struck at his senses. The likelihood of Sarah being a spy for any foreign power roused his appreciation of the ridiculous. She might mask her thoughts, but she was not that good at hiding her feelings. Wycliffe must be a fool indeed to suspect her of double-dealing! She was as transparent as the sparkling crystal on the table when jolted into happiness.
‘What is it?’ Her glance was one of sudden concern, of suspicion that her husband had manoeuvred her into this position, which he had, of course.
‘Nothing at all, dear Sarah! You are a delight to me.’
She frowned at him, but said no more. There was no accounting for the strange whims of gentlemen, after all. So she took herself off, to organise herself for the forthcoming and entirely unexpected treat. Surely if he intended to pursue the Countess of Wexford, he would not take his wife with him. It was inconceivable! The bubble of excitement within her chest could not be quelled.
Joshua smiled at her retreating figure. It pleased him to give her pleasure. Not from love exactly—he had already made that decision, had he not? But she was enchanting when taken by surprise.
And he felt a smug satisfaction at thwarting Wycliffe’s attempts to separate them, to keep Sarah alone and under surveillance in London.
Then there was only one more step for Lord Joshua Faringdon to take.
His decision to act on Wycliffe’s suggestion—if suggestion were not too mild a word for that gentleman’s plain speaking—and return to Paris as the British government’s eyes and ears gave his lordship pause for thought in the following days. It had never been an issue for him before. He had embarked on any number of chancy escapades with little concern for his own safety or the outcome of the mission. A thoughtless belief in his own immortality, he supposed. Now, with Sarah as his wife, he must give the inherent dangers some serious consideration. It had struck him with unpleasant force on the night when he had insisted that Sarah accompany him. There should be no danger for her in Paris, yet he must still contemplate the worst scenario. So he had some rapid plans to make.
He spent a day in careful thought and planning, partly in communication with Mr Hoskins, the lawyer who oversaw all the Faringdon legal matters, and finally the withdrawal of a large sum of money from his lordship’s bank. In return he acquired a deed of property, the outcome all quickly tied up and entirely to his satisfaction.
All that remained was to present the final conclusion to Sarah. He prowled the library, awaiting her return from an outing with Theodora. And brooded over the unpredictability of women who were too independent and self-sufficient for their own good, particularly those whose well-being was fast becoming a fixation with him. However enchanting