CHAPTER ELEVEN
Nicholas and Sarah strolled down the deserted street. They were holding hands, whispering endearments. An occasional carriage rumbled by, and there were other people out strolling too, but for the most part they were alone. It was another beautiful evening, the weather behaving itself so the final night of the Midsummer Festival could wrap up.
If they kept on, they’d eventually reach the crowds and the lamps and the music. But he wasn’t eager to get there. He was content to have her all to himself for a few more minutes.
Supper was over, and after it had concluded Mildred had shooed them out of the house, suggesting they walk to the fair one last time. Was Sarah aware that Mildred had asked him to leave? If so, was she glad of it? Or was she disappointed? He couldn’t choose what her answer would be.
Normally, her emotions were so clear to him it was like reading a book, but for once he couldn’t discern her sentiment.
It had been a pleasant meal. Mildred had been chatty and happy, giving no sign that she’d ordered Nicholas to vacate the premises an hour earlier. Mr. Winthrop was cordial, although Nicholas didn’t like the man. He was too pompous, too indulgent to Mildred—as if she were a child he was minding.
Sarah had been her usual gorgeous self, merry and talkative, but he’d noticed a coldness toward Mr. Winthrop. Did she dislike him as much as Nicholas?
In her new gown, with her hair braided and curled, she’d been ravishing. He’d been seated across from her at the small dining table, and he’d filled up his eyes, anxious to stare until he was certain he’d never forget a single detail.
If he’d been brave enough or determined enough, he could have made her his own. This very second, he could propose marriage, and he was positive she’d accept. He could be her husband for the rest of his life, but for some reason he couldn’t convince himself to grab for that ending. Why?
He was either insane or incredibly stupid. It was the only explanation. Perhaps it was a mix of both. He was insane and stupid.
“You’re very quiet,” she said.
“I was thinking about Mr. Winthrop. Will you find it shocking if I tell you I don’t like him?”
“Oh, Nicholas, I’m so relieved to hear your opinion. I couldn’t bear to disrupt Mildred’s party so I’ve been biting my tongue.”
“About what?”
“He stopped me in the hall upstairs. He forced me to confer about her.”
“Confer over what issue?”
“He peppered me with questions about how she spends her money. He asked if she’d been to the fortunetellers or if her lawyer had visited us.”
“Why would he want to know that?”
“I’ve been wondering the very same. He has to be worried that she’s changed her Will.”
“Why would he worry? Is he a beneficiary?”
“I have no idea, but look at this.” She extended her hand and was clutching a coin. “He tipped me—as if I were a scullery maid who’d shined his shoes!”
“What a dog!”
“He believes we’ve entered into a conspiracy, that he’s paid me to tattle Mildred’s secrets to him. I’m so angry I could bust.”
“How were you so calm during supper?”
“I refused to upset Mildred, but I will definitely inform her about it once we’re alone.”
“Every year, she has a new companion. He must have been bribing all of them.”
“That’s what I assume. He was so nonchalant about it, as if I’d blithely agree to betray her. He was so sure of himself that he had to have done it in the past.”
“I hate to suppose anyone would scheme against her,” Nicholas said. “Especially a man she views as a friend.”
“And he was particularly concerned about you!”
“Me?”
“Yes, he’s afraid you’re a charlatan who’s crawled out of the woodwork to steal all her money.”
He laughed at that. “I have many flaws, but I like to imagine I’m not the type who would steal from a woman I like as much as I like her.”
“I’m incensed in too many ways to count.”
“He must be in league with her nephew. I suspect Clayton has Mr. Winthrop spy on her, then he reports back on what he’s learned.”
“At this point, nothing would surprise me.”
Up ahead, the street was getting busier, and he asked, “Shall we walk through the fair? Would you like to? We could visit Mr. Dubois and buy another love potion.”
She shot him a hot glare. “We don’t need any potions.”
“Probably not.”
“Could we just talk for a minute?”
“I thought we were talking.”
“It hasn’t been about any important topics.”
“Except for the discovery that Mildred’s oldest friend is deceiving her.”
There was a rock wall next to them, and she sat down on it. She peered up at him, and he felt young and foolish. Why had he involved himself with her? It had been supreme idiocy right from the start, but he hadn’t been able to resist.
A poignant silence played out, and finally she broke it. “I think you have something to tell me.”
“Yes.”
But he couldn’t begin, and she said, “Well…? Spit it out. It’s humorous to observe as you squirm and stammer and attempt to explain in a manner that won’t distress me. I won’t be distressed. I promise.”
“You won’t wail and cry and call me names?”
She snorted with amusement. “I’ll try to control myself.”
“Praise be. I can’t abide a weepy woman.”
He still couldn’t begin though, and she kept them marching forward.
“Mildred asked you to return to your rented room. Will you go tonight?”
“As soon as we’re back.”
“Will you depart for London tomorrow? Or will you tarry for a bit?”
He dithered forever, desperate to figure out what his reply should be. Ultimately, he settled on, “I’m staying for a few more days, but I might not stop by again.”
“If you don’t socialize with us, how will you occupy your time?”
“I have some acquaintances in Bath all of a sudden.”
“Ah…so you’ll drink and gamble and revel.”
“Yes.”
“Have you ever wished you lived a different sort of life?”
There was the crux of their problem, tossed out into the open. He didn’t really wish that. He liked gambling and gamboling, and he’d never carried on any other way. Occasionally, he tried to picture himself working in an office as a clerk or maybe a solicitor. He tried to picture himself crammed into a little house, with a wife and six or seven children underfoot and needing to be clothed and fed.
He couldn’t envision himself in such a domestic scenario, while she would fit into it perfectly. She should find a kind man who could give her the home and family she deserved to have. But he had to be wealthy so he could lift her burdens with servants and other support.
He couldn’t be that man, and he didn’t want to be that man.
“No, I wouldn’t like anything to change,” he said.
“Why was I so certain that would be your answer?”
“I’m a cad and a bounder. I admit it.”
“I saw you with my cousin, Desdemona, today.”
“Mildred told me.”
“Do you fancy her? Tell me the truth.”
“No, I don’t.”
“We’re in such a dark spot,” she said. “Your eyes are shadowed so I can’t look into them to decide if you’re lying or not.”
“I’m not lying.”
He’d bumped into Lady Middlebury on the sidewalk outside the hotel, and she’d mentioned she was moving to a house Clayton had rented. She’d invited Nicholas to join them, and he’d let her convince him. Lord Pendergast would be there too, and with his being engaged to his Russian princess his purse was full of money. Nicholas was eager to win some of it from him.
The main benefit of the meeting was that he’d gotten himself out of his pathetic wager with Lady Middlebury. He’d paid her the twenty pounds they’d bet as to whether he could ruin Sarah. His excuse had been that Mildred watched her like a hawk so there had been no opportunity for a dalliance.
He’d also insisted Sarah was too innocent, and he had no patience with virgins. The Countess had teased him for failing to woo Sarah, for losing his touch with the ladies, and he’d laughed and allowed her to presume exactly that.
“Please promise me,” Sarah said, “you will never have an affair with her.”
“I never will. I promise.”
“I realize I have no claim on your affection.”
“You’re wrong, Sarah. You have all of my affection.”
She ignored his comment. “It would hurt me if you proceeded with her.”
“I know, and while I constantly confess to being a libertine, I’m not nearly as bad as I pretend to be.”
It was a huge falsehood, but he felt he should utter it. He would always hope she had warm memories of him, and he didn’t want her imagining him immersed in one destructive amour after the next. If he involved himself with a woman, it was because he would profit financially. Sarah had nothing to offer so he wouldn’t permit himself to be interested.
But he should have recognized she was too smart to be deceived.
“You’re absolutely as bad as you pretend to be,” she said. “Don’t try to fool me. You can’t.”
“All right, I won’t.”
“When will you return to London?”
“Before the week is out.” There was that high-stakes card game he was determined to attend.
“Do you have an apartment in London?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“So you have an address.”
He smiled. “Yes, I have an address like an ordinary adult.”
“Could we correspond? What would you think of that?”
The notion produced a rush of gladness, but he tamped it down. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Let me reflect on it.”
“Why isn’t it a good idea? Are you afraid to have me learn about your future mischief? Or are you simply a typical male who hates writing letters?”
“It’s both of those.”
“At least you’re honest about it.”
“Once I leave Bath, we should probably have a complete separation.”
“Of course we should, you thick oaf, but I’m anxious to keep my hooks in you. I’d like to remain connected even if I never see you again.”
Suddenly, he felt as if his heart was breaking, which was ridiculous because he’d never felt as if he had a heart. He could woo and grow fond, then cut ties without warning. He never suffered the slightest regret, but he couldn’t bear to ponder parting from her.
Why couldn’t he just do what any sane man would do? Why couldn’t he marry her and get it over with? Why all this drama and anguish?
He bent down and kissed her, but he didn’t linger. A pair of drunks staggered by. They were arguing, the moment fraught with tension as he waited for them to pass.
After it was silent again, she said, “You could have proposed, you know. I would have accepted.”
“I know.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“You deserve someone better than me.”
“I’m certain that’s true, but silly me I’ve never wanted anyone but you.”
“It’s deranged for you to want me. I never should have spent a single second in your company.”
“And I shouldn’t have spent a single second in yours, but I couldn’t resist.”
“I couldn’t resist either.”
“Will you ever bite the bullet and wed?” she asked him.
“I doubt it. I wouldn’t be that cruel to any woman.”
“I’ve just realized why we shouldn’t correspond. If I ever found out you’d picked a bride—and it wasn’t me—it would make me so sad, but very angry too.”
“If I shackled myself, it would be for money.”
“I comprehend your reasoning—it’s every bachelor’s dream—but it wounds me to hear you’d wed for money but not for love.”
“I’m too notorious to have a wife. What would I do with one?”
She scoffed. “You always act as if you’re awful.”
“That’s because I am.”
“You have a few redeeming qualities buried down deep.”
He grinned. “Maybe.”
“Would you promise me something?”
“More promises?” he teased. “Haven’t I mentioned I never keep them?”
“Yes, you mentioned it, but I don’t believe you. Besides, this one’s easy.”
“What is it?”
“I’d like you to always be friends with Mildred.”
“It’s a simple request so yes. I will.”
“I can watch over her this year while I’m working for her, but once my position ends I won’t see her very often. Perhaps not ever.”
“I understand.”
“You’re a man so you can travel and pop in to check on her. I don’t trust her nephew, and with how Mr. Winthrop spoke to me I’d like her to have a different kind of man in her life, one who will look out for her rather than her fortune.”
“I can do that.”
“If Clayton or Mr. Winthrop are ever excessively dreadful to her, her attorney is Mr. Thumberton in London. He’s her trustee, and I’m betting he’d put a stop to any nonsense.”
“Thumberton. I won’t forget.”
“I have to tell you a secret about her—so you’ll appreciate how serious this situation is. But you have to swear you’ll never tell a soul.”
“I never would.”
He sat next to her on the wall, and he took her hand and linked their fingers.
“When Mildred was a girl,” she said, “she was engaged to a very boring fellow her father had chosen for her.”
“I can’t imagine she was too happy about it.”
“No, and she fell in love with a school friend of her brother’s. His name was Robert Stone. His father had been an adventurer in Africa and Arabia, and Robert was sent to England to attend university. I gather he was quite dashing.”
So…there it was, and he hadn’t even had to search Mildred’s files or figure out how to open her safe. Sarah was about to reveal every detail he’d been seeking.
His expression was carefully blank. “It sounds as if he had an intriguing history.”
“They begged her father for permission to wed, but he refused. So they eloped, but he chased after them and brought her back. Robert disappeared, and she never heard from him again.”
“How did he disappear?”
“She’s not sure. She thinks her father bribed him to go away. He was penniless so he probably would have accepted a large payment.”
“That’s fickle of him. It certainly makes their romance seem fake and unimportant.”
“I can’t guess the depth of his affection, but hers was very real. She never got over it.”
“Is that why she never married?”
“Yes, that’s why, and here’s the rest of it.” She shifted so she could look him in the eye. “Swear again that you’ll never tell anyone.”
“I won’t. I swear.”
He kissed her to seal his vow, and when she drew away it was clear she believed him.
Oh, Sarah, Sarah, so naive, so gullible…
“She and Robert had a baby together. A boy.”
“No!”
“Yes.”
“Her father locked her in a home for unwed mothers, and when the child was born he was wrenched from her arms and given up for adoption.”
He swallowed down a thousand wild exclamations. Blandly, he said, “My entire life, there have been stories like that, but I’ve never personally met a female who experienced such an ordeal.”
“I hadn’t either—until now. Nicholas, she’s obsessed with memories of her son. She’s desperate to learn what happened to him. It’s why she visits the gypsies. She asks about him and if she might cross paths with him someday.”
“That explains it,” he murmured.
“Dubois told her that her son is very close, and she’s anxious for him to be correct.”
“I thought this was all fun and games for her. It’s not a hobby?”
“No, she goes with very serious questions, and she’s convinced their predictions will come true. Anyway, if she could locate her son she’d name him as her heir. Ultimately, he’d be very rich.”
Nicholas frowned. “Clayton wouldn’t like that.”
“No, and it worries me. I’m afraid for her. He doesn’t have her best interests at heart.”
“Nor does Winston Winthrop.”
“It’s why I wish you’d check on her occasionally—to be sure she’s safe from them. Plus, you remind her of Mr. Stone so she treasures your acquaintance.”
“How long has she been grieving and pining away?” he asked. “How old would her boy be now?”
“It’s been thirty years, and his birthday is today. It’s why we had our fancy supper. To celebrate it.”
My birthday is today…
He nearly mentioned it aloud so he could hear—just once—the reply, How nice! Happy birthday to you!
But as with every other secret he’d kept from her, he kept this one too. At this late date, why practice candor?
“For you, Sarah, I will remain her friend, and I will try to watch over her, but if she likes me because I resemble her missing beau that’s a very low bar. Mr. Stone must not have been all that impressive.”
“Don’t denigrate yourself to me. I don’t like it.” She smiled a sad smile, and some of the potent charge in the air started to wane. “We had a grand, but fleeting amour, didn’t we?”
A wave of panic swept through him. “You talk as if this is goodbye.”
“It’s the beginning of goodbye. I have to gradually separate myself from you until it seems as if none of this ever transpired.”
“It’s not possible. I’ll remember every detail.”
“I would say—if you ever realize you’d like to marry—you should find me, but I’m not optimistic so I won’t say it. If I assumed you’d eventually proceed, I’d wait for you forever, and I couldn’t live like that.”
“I’d marry you if I could,” he claimed.
“Don’t lie when you’re sitting so close to me. You might be struck by lightning, and I’d be struck too.”
He chuckled. “Let me rephrase my comment: I’d marry you if I were the marrying kind.”
“I’ll always tell myself that’s the truth.”
They were grinning, studying each other’s features, committing them to memory. Finally, she said, “Would you walk me back?”
“Not yet.”
“We’ve been out for so long that Mildred is probably wondering if I’ve misbehaved.”
“I might be a cad, but I’m hardly so debauched that I’d seduce you out on a public street.”
“She thinks you’re just that wicked.” He feigned offense, and she laughed. “I think you’re that wicked too. I should get going.”
She stood, and he couldn’t conceive of how he could persuade her to delay.
He was so conflicted over her! All of his decisions seemed stupid and wrong. He comprehended Mildred’s concerns about his motives, but why hadn’t he defended himself? Why hadn’t he sworn he would act the gentleman? Why hadn’t he at least tried to show himself as a better person?
He was simply bowled over by the recognition that any relationship with Sarah was pointless, and there was no reason to postpone the conclusion.
He stood too and took her arm, and he sauntered as slowly as he could to stretch out the interval. His heart was so heavy it was aching in his chest. There was a voice in his head shouting at him to stop being a fool, to keep her for his own, but he ignored it and continued on. Much too rapidly, they were at Mildred’s stoop.
They turned to each other, and the moment was fraught with options. He might have surprised them both with a sudden proposal, but before he could speak a word or share a last kiss, the door was yanked open, and Mildred was glaring at them like a hovering, nosy mother.
“Hello, you two,” she said. “I’d about given up on you.”
“We strolled to the fair and back,” Sarah told her, “and we lost track of time.”
“I figured that was it.” Mildred glanced at Nicholas. “I hope you won’t deem it presumptuous of me, but I packed your bag.”
He snorted with amusement. She knew him so well! He’d been planning to loaf for a few hours, perhaps to tarry until Mildred went to bed so he could pursue a few more intimacies with Sarah.
He was an ass. He was an idiot. Neither woman should have to tolerate such a wretch in their midst.
“Thank you for packing it,” he said. “I hate that I put you out.”
“You’ve been no trouble, Nicholas,” Mildred stated, then she scowled. “I take that back. You’ve been an enormous amount of trouble, but I like a man who brings me trouble.”
“I appreciate the hospitality.”
“You’re welcome to it in the future—so long as Sarah isn’t sleeping under my roof. Don’t be a stranger.”
“I won’t be.”
There was an awkward pause, then she shifted her scorching gaze to Sarah. “Why don’t you come in so I can lock up?”
“I will.” Sarah peered up at him. “I’ll expect to see you before you leave for London.”
“I’ll make sure of it.”
Mildred pulled her into the vestibule as she handed over his portmanteau.
“Goodnight, you scalawag,” Mildred said.
“Goodnight.” He nodded to Sarah who was standing behind her. “I’ll stop by soon. I promise.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” Sarah replied.
Then the door was shut, and Mildred spun the key. He dawdled, feeling like a dunce and wishing he could hear if they were discussing him. Yet it was madness to linger.
He walked out to the street, wondering if he could bear to show up at Clayton’s rented house so early. But really, where else would he go?