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

‘Then—if you wish it—I will agree to marry you.’ A shy smile touched her lips at last.

‘Thank you. I might tell you that I have never fought so difficult a battle in all my life. Waterloo was nothing to this. Wellington did not know the half of it.’

She had the grace to blush. ‘I did not mean to be difficult.’

‘No. I am sure you did not. Since we are in agreement and since you have agreed to my terms, it is my desire that you wear this.’

From the drawer of his desk he produced an old silk pouch. Untying the strings, he extracted a circle of gold. ‘It was in my mind to give you a diamond necklace to mark our betrothal, but I have it on the best authority that such tawdry gems can only signal the end of a relationship.’ His voice was dry, but his smile was gentle and he shook his head at her questioning look. ‘No matter. Give me your hand.’ When she obeyed, he pushed the ring on to her finger ‘Not a bad fit—a little large, but it can be remedied. It suits you very well.’

‘It is beautiful.’ It all but took her breath away. Never had she possessed anything so precious or so skilfully made. No one had ever given her jewellery before.

‘It is old and has not been worn by ladies of the family for some generations, but it is pretty and I thought it would complement your beautiful eyes. As my affianced wife I would like you to wear it. If it would please you, dear Sarah,’ he added on a thought, mindful of her fear of domestic dictates and the return of the velvet coat. His teeth glinted in an understanding smile.

‘It would please me. I can think of no lady who could refuse so splendid a gift.’ She moved her fingers, a little purr in her throat as the hoop of sapphires and pearls sparkled and glimmered in the light.

He sighed in some relief. He still could not quite believe that she had accepted him. Or understand why it should matter quite so much.

‘Thank you, Sarah.’ With a formal bow, he lifted her hand and kissed the ring where it encircled her finger, a potent symbol of their agreement and union. Then turned her hand to press his lips to her soft palm, a symbol of his own sense of achievement, had the lady but known it. ‘We will fix a date for our marriage. And soon.’

‘As you wish, my lord.’ As Sarah made to leave the room, her cheeks decidedly pink, she came to a halt and looked back.

‘What will you do with the—with our contracts, my lord?’

‘Put them in the desk drawer for safekeeping,’ was his prompt reply as if he had anticipated the question. ‘And to find them easily if we wish to refer to them at any given moment.’ His expression remained bland. ‘If you decide that I am not keeping to my side of the bargain, Mrs Russell.’

Sarah laughed. ‘No. I do not anticipate that will ever be necessary.’

‘No? Well—I should warn you.’ There was mischief here now. ‘It is my intention to add a codicil. That since we have agreed to tie the knot, you will henceforth address me as Joshua.’

Sarah tilted her chin, her eyes glittering as brightly as the sapphires that bound her finger. ‘And I will do so, now that we are in agreement. Joshua.’ And left the room. Leaving Lord Faringdon to consider the pleasure of watching Sarah Russell—Sarah Faringdon!—open herself to her courageous heart and a playful humour.

Lord Nicholas Faringdon and his wife Theodora travelled without delay from Aymestry Manor in Herefordshire when the news of the impending nuptials reached them via Judith’s astonished and information-laden letter. Theodora hardly stayed to set foot within the imposing portals of Faringdon House in Grosvenor Square before descending on the other Faringdon residence in Hanover Square and demanding from the overawed Millington that she wished to see Mrs Russell immediately. ‘Sarah! Why did you not tell me? I had no idea.’ ‘Well! Neither did I.’ Sarah served tea in her own sitting room to this dearest of sisters who, brought up as their own child by Sir Hector and Lady Drusilla Wooton-Devereux, had come into her life less than a year ago. They would not immediately be recognised as sisters, she thought as she cast an eye over the stylish creation that Theodora wore with such panache. Their fair colouring was the same, but Sarah knew that she must appear a pale imitation indeed beside this glowing and burnished beauty. Not to mention the confident sophistication with which Thea conducted herself, having been raised and introduced to the beau monde in the courts of Europe. Yet however much she might envy her sister her self-assurance and ability to take hold of life, Sarah loved her dearly and valued her advice. She smiled, her body relaxed for the first time in days as she lifted her tea cup to her lips. ‘I am so very pleased to see you, Thea. I have felt in need of some support.’

‘Well, of course. Dearest Sarah.’ The deep sapphire of Thea’s eyes shone with love and concern. ‘I have never met Joshua Faringdon. He was still in Paris when Nicholas and I were wed, of course. All I know is that he is a widower with a young child. But I have heard Judith speak of him. And Lady Beatrice refuses to do so. I have to say, he does not sound quite the thing, Sarah. I think he has a…an unfortunate reputation . As Judith put it. And Nicholas is being particularly close-lipped.’

‘I know,’ Sarah replied with remarkable complacence. ‘But…I do not think his reputation can be quite accurate. He has never behaved in a less than principled manner towards me.’

‘You only met him a matter of weeks ago! You do not know him.’ Thea could not understand how her careful sister could be so untroubled by the rumours of her intended husband’s libertine propensities.

‘True. Or not very well, at any event. And yet I cannot believe he is as lacking in good ton as the gossips make out. I know that Judith loves him dearly, in spite of everything. And he… Lord Faringdon…is very caring of his daughter. And to me he has been very kind.’

‘Kind? Sarah… I cannot like it,’ Thea persisted. ‘I would not wish you to be hurt. If it is simply a matter of finding a home for yourself and John, you could live with us. John would love to be at Aymestry. You know that you would always be welcome.’

‘No.’ Sarah blinked at the force of her own denial. ‘Forgive me, Thea. How rude that sounded! You see, I am perfectly capable of earning my own living. And…I find that I wish to marry Lord Joshua.’

‘Of course you are capable. I would not imply… Sarah—are you sure? Of marriage?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you like him?’

For the length of a heartbeat Sarah was silent. Then: ‘I love him,’ she replied with pure and shining simplicity. ‘I barely know him, yet I know that I shall love him until the day I die. From the first moment that I set eyes on him when he entered the hallway here in this house. It is as uncomplicated as that.’

‘Oh.’ Thea frowned her concern. ‘Does he know?’

‘Of course not.’ Sarah’s eyes held her sister’s in sudden distress. ‘And you must not say. He must never know.’

‘Do I then understand that his emotions are not similarly engaged?’ Thea’s frown deepened.

‘No, I think not. Indeed, I am sure that they are not.’ Relaxing again with a little smile, she took Thea’s offered hand, accepting the warmth and not a little sympathy. ‘He is, I think, driven by an affection. Beyond kindness, I think—but not love. I would never expect that. And he has, I think, a well-developed sense of chivalry to rescue me from invisible dragons!’

‘Sarah—are you quite certain that this is the path which you wish to take?’

‘I am.’ There was conviction in her soft voice and a wry acceptance. ‘But I am not sure that Lord Faringdon is. I cannot think why he would want to marry me when he could have his pick of the beautiful débutantes of the Season!’