An Unexpected Countess. Laurie Benson

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An Unexpected Countess - Laurie Benson


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      On the other side of the door, her parents were blissfully unaware of how perilously close they were from being thrown back into a world of grief and depression, with Sarah as their only hope. She had lived through that anguish with them once. She prayed she could find the bracelet so she would not have to do it again.

      She struggled again to smile. Closing her eyes, she recalled the thrill of racing her horse at full gallop along the shores of the Long Island Sound on her family’s estate. A small smile crossed her lips. It was the best she could do.

      When she entered the room, she was met with the faint sound of forks clinking on plates as her mother read a letter and her father browsed his newspaper while they ate breakfast. If the silence continued, she could keep trying to think of another way to secure that bracelet.

      As Sarah poured herself a cup of chocolate, her mother refolded the letter she was reading and smiled at her.

      ‘Good morning. Did you enjoy the additional time you spent with Katrina last night?’

      ‘I did. Thank you. We hadn’t spent time together like that in so long and we had so much to talk about.’

      ‘The two of you always seem to have so much to talk about,’ her mother said with a smile. ‘She looks well.’

      ‘She does, but I do think she was nervous leaving Augusta for the first time at night.’

      ‘That’s to be expected. The first time I left you after you were born, it wasn’t easy.’

      ‘She wanted to return home the minute our carriage left the drive,’ her father said, not looking up from the newspaper.

      Her mother took off her spectacles. ‘If I recall correctly, I wasn’t the only one,’ she teased before turning her attention back to Sarah. ‘I was just reading a letter from Mrs Colter. Robert will be arriving in Liverpool in a few weeks to settle some business here. She expects him to stay for three months and I was thinking it would be kind to invite him to come down to London for a visit while he is here.’

      ‘You do?’ Sarah was well aware of why her mother thought it was such a kind gesture.

      ‘Yes, we can find a room for him at the Pulteney.’

      ‘Perhaps Mr Colter does not have the funds to stay in such an establishment.’

      ‘Of course he does. That family is very comfortably settled.’

      Sarah took a sip of chocolate. It was a small reprieve.

      ‘I think it will be wonderful to see him again. He always was my favourite of her four sons.’

      ‘Which one is he?’

      ‘We haven’t been gone that long, Sarah,’ she chided. ‘You remember, he is her youngest. The one who is two years older than you. The one with the lovely manners.’

      ‘Isn’t he the one who doesn’t speak?’

      ‘He speaks. I have heard him. Why would you think he doesn’t speak?’

      ‘He doesn’t speak to me.’

      Her father put down his newspaper. ‘Perhaps the man can’t utter a single word because you never give him the opportunity.’

      ‘That’s not true. I’ve never given him the cut.’

      ‘I meant you talk too much in his presence,’ her father said with a smirk.

      ‘Perhaps he thinks you’re beautiful and is at a loss for words when he is in your presence.’ From the look on her mother’s face, it was possible she actually believed that.

      ‘Perhaps Mr Colter and I have nothing in common and therefore we have nothing to discuss.’

      ‘Nonsense, you are just trying to dissuade me from inviting him.’

      ‘That is not true. I am simply trying to remind you that even if you invite Mr Colter here, he will not be proposing to me before he leaves.’

      ‘How do you know that? You have not seen one another in two years. Things can change.’

      ‘People do not change, Mother. If we did not fall in love two years ago, we will not be falling in love now. Love doesn’t work that way.’

      ‘How do you know it does not? One day you may suddenly look at him and realise he is the man you cannot live without.’

      ‘He is mute,’ Sarah stated more firmly.

      ‘No, he is not,’ her mother replied with just as much conviction.

      ‘I know you want me to find a nice American man to marry and I want to find one. I do. But Mr Colter is not that man.’

      ‘You don’t know that. Can I help it if I want to see you happy and in love? Can I help it if I want to be a grandmother some day? I am your mother, and I want what is best for you.’

      She looked over at her father for help, but by the amused expression on his face, he would not be offering any.

      ‘What other news has Mrs Colter sent? I am certain that entire letter isn’t all about her son.’

      Dear God, let it not be all about her son.

      ‘Any news of our neighbours?’

      ‘Mrs Stevens has had her second child and Mrs Anderson her fifth. Both had girls.’ She arched her brow at Sarah.

      Sarah drank more chocolate.

      ‘And Susan Philpott and Jonathan Van Houten are wed.’ This time both brows went up.

      ‘Has anyone suffered an injury? Is anyone ill?’

      ‘Sarah!’

      ‘I am simply asking because that does happen to people, too.’

      Her father laughed and turned to accept a letter from Bayles, their butler. Sarah’s attention was immediately drawn to it and she let out a breath when she spotted the official government seal on the paper.

      ‘Mr Harney passed,’ her mother said, drawing Sarah’s attention away from her father’s concerned expression as he began reading the letter.

      The shadows of grief were back in her mother’s eyes. Sarah didn’t believe they would ever go away. Each time they got word that someone had died, the announcement would scratch at the scabs covering the fresh wounds of grief over Alexander’s death.

      ‘How sad. He was a nice man.’

      ‘He was. Mrs Colter says she stitched a memorial for Mrs Harney since the widow’s eyes are failing. Mrs Harney is very fortunate her son lives within a few miles of her. He has taken her into his home.’ She picked up her stack of letters and stood. ‘I’m going to write to her now to express our condolences. Then I’ll pen a letter to Mrs Colter letting her know I plan to invite Robert down to London shortly after he arrives in England.’

      As her mother walked out the door, Sarah poured herself more chocolate from the Wedgwood pot. Morning chocolate was the answer to everything—or it had been at one time.

      Her father put down his letter. ‘I’m sure this goes without saying, but your mother and I would never force you to marry someone you do not love. She is only trying to be helpful.’

      ‘By finding every American man in England to place in my path?’

      ‘If that’s what it takes to find you a husband, I suppose so.’

      ‘Please convince her not to invite Mr Colter here in hopes of a match. We are unsuitable for one another and both know it. He is much too dull for my taste and I believe my exuberance frightens him.’ She tilted her head and tried to see what her father was reading. ‘Is it bad news?’

      ‘It’s a letter from Washington. The banking problems at home have not improved. More people are being refused lines of credit and we must decide how we will respond to our countrymen over


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