Julie Garwood - The Gift

"You didn't ask any of them either," Nathan countered.

Colin shrugged. He returned his attention to the crowd below. "I suppose I thought you'd decide the contract wasn't worth the sacrifice. After all, she…" He completely lost his train of thought when he spotted his sister strolling toward them. Another woman walked by her side. "There's Becca," he said. "If the silly chit would just move a little to the left…" That remark went unfinished. Colin's indrawn breath filled the air. "Sweet Jesus… could that be Lady Sara?"

Nathan didn't answer him. In truth, he doubted he was capable of speech right then. His mind was fully consumed taking in the vision before him.

She was enchanting. Nathan had to shake his head. No, he told himself, she couldn't possibly be his bride. The gentle lady smiling so shyly at Rebecca was simply too beautiful, too feminine, and too damn thin to belong to the Winchester clan.

And yet there was a hint of a resemblance, a nagging reminder of the impossible four-year-old he'd held in his arms, something indefinable that told him she really was his Lady Sara.

Gone was the wild mop of honey-colored curls. Her hair was shoulder-length, still given to curl, but as dark as chestnuts. Her complexion looked pure to him from the distance separating them, and he wondered if she still had the sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of her nose.

She'd grown to only average height, judging by the fact that she was eye level with Colin's younger sister. There certainly wasn't anything average about her figure, however. She was rounded in all the right places.

"Look at all the young bucks moving in," Colin announced. "They're like sharks circling their prey. Your wife seems to be their target, Nathan," he added. "Hell, you'd think they would have the decency to leave a married woman alone. Still, I suppose I can't really fault them. My God, Nathan, she's magnificent."

Nathan was fully occupied watching the eager men chase after his bride. He had an almost overwhelming urge to beat the foppish grins off their faces. How dare they try to touch what belonged to him?

He shook his head over his illogical reaction to his bride.

"Here comes your charming father-in-law," Colin said. "God, I didn't realize how bowlegged he is. Look how he shadows her," he continued. "He isn't about to let his prize out of his sight."

Nathan took a deep breath. "Let's ride, Colin. I've seen enough."

Not a hint of emotion was in his voice. Colin turned to look at him. "Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Damn it, Nathan, tell me what you think."

"About what?"

"Lady Sara," Colin persisted. "What do you think of her?"

"The truth, Colin?"

His friend gave a quick nod.

Nathan's smile was slow, easy. "She'll fit through the window."

Time was running out.

Sara was going to have to leave England. Everyone would probably think she'd run away again. They'd begin to call her coward, she supposed, and although that slander would sting, she was still determined to go through with her plans. Sara simply didn't have any other choice. She'd already sent two letters to the marquess of St. James requesting his assistance, but the man to whom she was legally wed hadn't bothered to respond. She didn't dare try to contact him again. There simply wasn't enough time left. Aunt Nora's future was at stake, and Sara was the only one who could-or, more specifically, who would-save her.

If the members of the ton believed she was running away from the marriage contract, so be it.

Nothing ever turned out the way Sara imagined it would. When her mother had asked her to go to Nora's island the previous spring to make certain she was all right Sara had immediately agreed. Her mother hadn't received a letter from her sister in over four months, and fear about her health was beginning to make Sara's mother ill. In truth,

Sara was just as concerned about her mother's health as she was about her aunt's. Something had to be amiss. It simply wasn't like her aunt to forget to write. No, the monthly packet of letters had always been as dependable as the inevitable rain on the annual Winchester picnics.

Sara and her mother agreed that neither one of them would confide the real reason behind her sudden departure. They settled on the lie that Sara was simply going to visit her older sister Lillian, who lived in the colonies of America with her husband and infant son.

Sara had considered telling her father the truth, then discarded the notion. Even though he was certainly the most reasonable of the brothers, he was still a Winchester through and through. He didn't like Nora any better than his brothers did, though for his wife's sake he wasn't as vocal in his opinions.

The Winchester men had turned their backs on Nora when she disgraced them by marrying beneath her station. The marriage to her groom had taken place fourteen years earlier, but the Winchesters weren't a forgiving lot. They put great store in the expression "an eye for an eye." Revenge was as sacred to them as the commandments were to most of the bishops, even when the infraction was as slight as a brief month of public embarrassment. Not only would they never forget their humiliation, they would also never, ever forgive.

Sara should have realized that fact sooner. She never would have allowed Nora to come home for a visit otherwise. Heaven help her, she'd actually believed that time had softened her uncles' attitude. The sad truth was quite the opposite. There wasn't a happy reunion allowed between the sisters. Sara's mother didn't even get to speak to Nora. As to that, no one did, for Nora had simply vanished a scant hour after she and Sara had left the ship.

Sara was nearly out of her mind with worry. The time had finally come to put her plan into action, and her nerves were at the screaming point. Her fear had become an almost tangible thing, tearing at her determination. She was accustomed to letting other people take care of her, but the shoe was on the other foot, as Nora liked to say, and Sara needed to be the one in charge. She prayed to God she was up to the challenge. Nora's life depended upon her success.

The horrendous pretense Sara had had to endure the past two weeks had become a nightmare. Each time she heard the door chime sound she was certain the authorities had come to tell her Nora's body had been found. Finally, when she thought she couldn't stand the worry another minute, her faithful servant Nicholas had found out where her uncles had hidden Aunt Nora. The gentle woman had been closeted away in the attic of her Uncle Henry's townhouse until all the arrangements could be made with the court for guardianship. Then she was going to be spirited away to the nearest asylum, with her fat inheritance divided between the other men in the family.

"The bloody leeches," Sara muttered to herself. Her hand shook when she clipped the latch shut on her satchel. She told herself it was anger and certainly not fear that made her tremble so. Every time she thought about the terror her aunt must be going through she became infuriated all over again.

She took a deep, calming breath as she carried her satchel over to the open window. She tossed the garment bag down to the ground. "That's the last of it, Nicholas. Hurry now before the family returns. Godspeed, friend."

The servant collected the last bag and rushed toward the waiting hack. Sara closed the window, doused the candle, and climbed into bed.

It was almost the midnight hour when her parents and her sister Belinda returned from their outing. When Sara heard the footsteps in the hallway she rolled onto her stomach, closed her eyes, and feigned sleep. A moment later she heard the squeak of the door as it was opened and knew her father was looking in to see that his daughter was where she was supposed to be. It seemed to Sara an eternity passed before the door was pulled shut again.