Anne O'Brien - Regency High Society Vol 6 - The Enigmatic Rake / The Lord And The Mystery Lady / The Wagering Widow / An Unconventional Widow

Mrs Russell might find that she had met her match. And if she would, might just enjoy the result!

Once again, at three o’clock precisely, Sarah had presented herself in Lord Faringdon’s library. She had been ushered to a chair, had measured out the tea, poured the fragrant liquid, and had immediately put down the fragile painted china without tasting. Now she watched him and waited, with her heart in her mouth and her hopes for her future in his lordship’s beautiful hands. Or, almost her hopes. She could hardly include in her list her yearning that one day he might love her, as she loved him, unconditionally and based on nothing but an unreasoning desire. She watched him as he read down the single sheet. As his brows arched at one point, then immediately drew together into a heavy frown, she swallowed. No need to be nervous, she chided, and blushed at some of the thoughts she had allowed herself to include. He could only refuse, after all, and she would have lost nothing. Except that she would be obliged to terminate her employment here and find another position. It would be too uncomfortable to continue. She waited as he read to the end, palms damp with nerves. Then sighed as he returned to the beginning and reread it, wishing not for the first time that she could read his face.

Fortunately, she could not.

Typical Sarah , he thought. Careful and thoughtful and…and prim . He hid his enjoyment of the situation. How right he had been in his assessment of her character. And he had every intention of destroying the demure sobriety that could frequently rob her of joy and pleasure. He would take the weight of care from her shoulders and allow her to blossom without restraint. She did not know that she needed liberating, of course, and would probably resist at every step, so his campaign must necessarily be devious. Her marriage terms touched not only his sense of the ridiculous but also his compassion.

Freedom to run his establishments and appoint servants to her own liking. He would expect that. But had there been some problem here of which he knew nothing? He had been unaware of any difficulties in Hanover Place. Whatever she desired on this matter, she could have her way.

A comfortable financial settlement for herself and her son to cushion the child’s future. Well, that would be confirmed in the legal settlement, of course. And would be far more than comfortable, but there was no need to worry her with details of amounts and jointures.

Freedom to decide on the upbringing and education of John. Both acceptable and anticipated. As she would concern herself over the nurturing of Beth. He had no qualms on that issue. And had every intention of doing his best for the boy.

Her own wishes to be considered. Ah! Not to be coerced or dictated to or forced into actions against her will. His heart went out to her as she sat across from him silently awaiting his decision, even though he restrained himself from glancing in her direction. He knew exactly where that came from—and damned the unknown Edward Baxendale for his bitter legacy. In future, Sarah should have all the freedom she desired.

His brows rose in amazement, then snapped into a dark frown as he read on. No inappropriate orgies, entertainments, opera dancers or actresses in the house when she herself was present. Orgies? In God’s name, what had she heard? Surely not Judith! Then, with a wry curl of his lips, he once more had to accept the far-reaching tendrils of gossip and innuendo surrounding his life in Paris and could not complain.

He shrugged and read on to the final lines. A comment that touched his heart. I do not expect to be introduced to or be called upon to meet or acknowledge your mistress. I do not expect to have to receive her in my home . The Countess of Wexford, of course! I accept your freedom to take a mistress, given the pure convenience of our marriage, but I trust your sensitivity on this matter. I do not wish to have to acknowledge her .

How tragic. That Sarah should consider herself so undesirable and unworthy of love that he would continue to keep a mistress. His reputation again stood him in no good stead. He was gripped with a need to remove all such doubts from her mind. And make her feel loved and desirable.

He placed the paper on the desk where his own cup of tea also remained untasted. Without a word, unsmiling, giving no hint of his feelings, he handed her his own greatly revised script. And watched with deceptively stern features as she sat and read.

When she had finished she raised her head, her face registering a curious mixture of bafflement and pleasure, colour tinting her cheeks. ‘Well… You are very generous, sir. I do not see the necessity. The personal allowance…it is far too large for my needs…’

He knew that she would argue the issues at hand, but had no intention of retreating. ‘When did a woman ever have enough money to spend on herself? Judith never does, if what she says is true. You will need pin money to keep you in fripperies and such.’

‘But so much… Andhere…’ She pointed at the page. ‘That I should be willing to receive gifts from you… ‘ She shook her head.

‘Because I know that if I do not make it a prerequisite of marriage, you will decline. I wish to give you gifts and I wish you to enjoy them without feeling a need to refuse.’

‘I hope that I would not be so ungracious!’ More than a little ruffled now. ‘And you desire that I should become fashionable and elegant.’ He almost laughed aloud at the sudden anxiety on her face.

‘Of course,’ he replied with due solemnity. ‘I expect Lady Faringdon to present herself in nothing but the height of fashion. As my wife I will expect you to go about in society.’

‘But I do not know how—’

‘Sarah!’ He clenched his fists against a need to take hold of her shoulders and either kiss her or shake her into compliance. ‘Speak to Judith. Or Theodora. Your sister’s taste must, I am certain, be beyond question. And I think your colouring is the same as hers. Take her advice.’

‘I suppose.’ Sarah consulted the firm handwriting again. ‘You seem to think that I will gain no enjoyment from this match.’ Did he almost detect a flounce of temper there as she looked up? It delighted him. So he twitched the pages from her hand and read aloud: ‘I expect you to enjoy—and you will notice that I have underscored the word many times—the benefits of my wealth and consequence.’ He fixed her with a purposeful eye. ‘I would wish you to be happy, Sarah.’

‘And you would expect me to accompany you to Paris.’ There was the faintest suggestion of panic there.

‘Of course. We will employ a governess for Beth and John. As my wife, that is no longer your direct concern—except that I know you will wish to be involved. But I shall expect you to spend time with me.’

‘Oh.’ My wife . Wings of delicious terror fluttered in her belly.

‘So, Mrs Russell. Can we live amicably together, do you suppose? To the advantage of both?’

‘But you have said nothing in reply to my list.’ She regarded him with sudden suspicion.

‘I do not need to. I comply.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Mrs Russell. Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?’

‘I—’

‘If it truly worries you, I promise that there will never be orgies in this house—or any of my establishments. Whether when you are in residence or when you are not. If I change my mind and decide to host some tasteless extravaganza, I shall demand that you organise a French banquet worthy of the Prince Regent. Does that satisfy you?’

Sarah could not help but laugh. ‘I should not have written that, should I?’

‘No.’ The laughter died a little from his eyes. ‘You should not believe all rumours, particularly those to my detriment’— even if I deliberately fostered them . ‘But still I promise that I will not.’