Part 14 (2/2)
”...and to Vanessa...”
”Vanessa!”
”...and Catherine.”
Sarah laughed. She could not help herself. She heard her own hysteria and could not stop.
Adam took her by the shoulders and shook her. ”Don't,” he pleaded. ”Please don't.” As her laughter died, he bent his head and kissed her very gently on the lips, a fleeting touch. ”I'm sorry, Sarah. Tell me what to do.”
”Tell me how it happened.”
They walked on, her hand on his arm warm between his elbow and his side. She listened with a sense of unreality, increased by their isolation in the mist, as he explained how Vanessa had lured him into the garden and Catherine had trapped him at Old Sarum.
”I never actually proposed to either of them,” he pointed out. ”I merely let them believe I conceded.”
”Such a scandalous want of conduct, and I thought them such proper young ladies,” she marvelled. ”I cannot believe that Lydia is either brave enough or unprincipled enough to have set a like snare.”
”No, I cannot claim that excuse. Her fall was undoubtedly accidental and her injury genuine. She was quite overset by the intimacy of her position in my arms, afraid of what everyone would say. I suggested that if we were betrothed it would cause no comment and the notion soothed her sensibilities. I could not retract after that. Besides, I confess that three prospective brides seemed to me little worse than two, though I've not the least desire to wed any of them.”
”How did you persuade her not to tell?”
”She thought a secret betrothal the most romantic thing in the world, just like a novel,” said Adam dryly. ”What surprises me is that none of my sisters has attempted to discover what went on on those three occasions.”
”I have no doubt that none of them wished to draw attention to their connivance in entrapping you. Eliza's part in forcing you into the garden is obvious to the meanest intelligence. Mary must surely be responsible for not informing the rest of us about your detour to Old Sarum, though she may have believed your bouncer about stopping at the vicarage on your way home.”
”My bouncer? Is your opinion of me so low? That was purely Lady Catherine's invention. I wanted to wring her wretched neck but the dictates of gentlemanly behaviour prevented my even giving her the lie.”
Sarah felt as if a great weight had lifted from her spirits. The situation was unchanged, yet her view of it had altered radically. Resentment and indignation faded and she found herself amused at his predicament.
”Of course, I should have guessed. I daresay she considered it part of her playacting. How fortunate for you that writing and performing plays is another of her innumerable talents! Are you sure you do not wish to wed so admirably accomplished a young lady?”
”I have never been more certain of anything in my life,” Adam declared roundly, delighted to hear the teasing note in her voice. ”Nor do I wish to spend my days gazing on Vanessa's exquisite beauty. But how the devil am I to extricate myself?”
She laughed, the merry laugh with a hint of mischief in it that he loved to hear. The mists were thinning now, swirling about them, and a sunbeam broke through. Droplets of water in her hair gleamed as golden as the flecks in her eyes, and he knew that hers was a face he would never tire of.
Her next words brought him abruptly back to earth.
”I shall help you cast off Catherine and Vanessa without a qualm after their disgraceful behaviour,” she said seriously. ”Lydia is another matter. She is an innocent child and I will not be party to disappointing her. I think you are going to have to marry her, Adam.”
He looked at her in helpless dismay: All at once the various strands of their relations.h.i.+p came together in his mind: the old, comfortable friends.h.i.+p; the new admiration of her subtle beauty; his jealousy of Swan and Kerry; the feeling that something was missing when he was not with her; and the urge to take her in his arms when she was near and smother her with kisses. This explained his willingness to dismiss all his mistresses and his inability to choose another. There was only one woman in the world he wanted and he wanted her to be his forever.
He had lost his heart to Sarah, and here she was, explaining to him why he must marry Miss Lydia Davis. What was infinitely worse was that he knew she was right: he could not honourably cry off.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
Adam's abrupt departure puzzled Sarah. After making her promise that she would not stray from the road, lest the mist close down again, he had ridden off without a backward glance. She walked on slowly, deep in thought.
There was no understanding men. She had insisted on his obligation to Lydia partly in the hope of discovering how he felt about taking the bashful child to wife. She still had no notion whether he was despondent, resigned, or even content to have the decision made for him. Her other aim, she acknowledged to herself, was to punish him a little for his blithe disregard of convention. The trouble was that all her arguments were true. He had no excuse whatsoever for retracting his proposal.
Though she had always told herself that she had no hope of winning him, Sarah's heart sank at the finality of his engagement. It was no use trying to persuade herself that no woman of sense could possibly love a man who flitted from female to female like a bee from blossom to blossom. Common sense had nothing to do with it.
An idea nagged at her. One man, many brides ... Bluebeard! Catherine and Vanessa must surely know the fairy tale, so that she would not have to be too explicit. If she could give them a disgust of Adam, they might release him of their own accord. It would not hurt to make them ashamed of their own deceit while she was about it, and she had an idea how to go about that, too.
Her eyes sparkling with mischief, Sarah swung round and started back towards Little Fittleton. The sooner she put her plan into action the better, for there was no knowing when one of the young ladies might let the cat out of the bag and precipitate a horrendous scandal.
It was still early. Even after stopping at the vicarage to change her dress, Sarah arrived at Cheve House before all the ladies had left their chambers. She asked for Lady Cheverell, and Gossett showed her into the morning room.
”Sarah, my dear, how delightful to see you. Oh dear, I am growing so forgetful. Have we an outing planned for today?”
”No, ma'am, and it is shockingly early for a morning call. I had a sudden whim to go shopping in Devizes and I wondered whether Lady Catherine and Miss Brennan might care to go, too. Miss Davis's ankle will prevent her joining us, I collect?”
”The poor child is much improved but she had best rest it today.” She rang the bell. ”I must confess, I shall be very glad if you will take the other two off for the day. I cannot like them, Sarah! If Adam weds one of them, I shall happily retire to the dower house in Salisbury.”
The butler was sent to enquire whether the young ladies were interested in a shopping excursion. This was the weakest part of Sarah's scheme. Mary and Eliza had warned their protegees not to offend the Meades, but if they felt themselves secure in having caught Adam, they might ignore the advice. However, Gossett returned shortly with two acceptances.
”Then it remains only to beg the use of your barouche,” said Sarah gaily, trying to conceal her relief. ”It is sadly forward in me, I know, but I fear Lady Catherine and Miss Brennan will change their minds if I offer to drive them in the gig behind Dapple.”
”To be sure, their gowns would be horridly crushed and that will never do. You will not want to drive the barouche, though. One of the grooms shall take you.”
This was a difficulty Sarah had not foreseen. It was quite unsuitable for her to sit on the box, besides making it impossible to converse with her pa.s.sengers, yet she did not want a groom listening while she denounced his master. Then she remembered Nellie's follower, who was so eager to please his sweetheart's employers.
”If Peter is available,” she requested, ”I should prefer him. I know him for a trustworthy lad.” And discreet, she hoped.
Not an hour later, Peter was driving the barouche north toward Devizes with three young ladies seated behind him. Sarah explained to her guests that the opening of the Kennet-Avon Ca.n.a.l some four years since had greatly increased the prosperity of the town, leading to the establishment of many new shops.
”Lady Lansdowne told me of a milliner she considers the equal of any in London.” As she hoped, this led to a lengthy discussion of fas.h.i.+on from which she was largely excluded. She planned to introduce the subject of Adam on the way home, for she had no intention of escorting two sulky young ladies all day.
Sarah found touring the shops of Devizes with Lady Catherine and Vanessa Brennan unspeakably tedious. Nothing came up to London standards except Lady Lansdowne's milliner (being a marchioness she was not to be contradicted), where each bought a bonnet. Sarah's feet were aching by the time they returned to the Bear for refreshments before leaving for Cheve.
They sat at the window overlooking the bustling marketplace. Sarah enquired of the waitress whether the tall stone monument in the centre of the square was the market cross recently erected by Lord Sidmouth to commemorate his long a.s.sociation with the town.
”Yes'm, thet be it. Ha' ye heard the story?” The girl set down a tray of tea and buns.
”I have, but I should like to read it for myself.”
”What story is that?” clamoured her companions. Sarah refused to tell, claiming that she feared to relate it incorrectly. It was time to put into effect the first part of her plan, to make them ashamed of their dishonest stratagems. She turned the conversation to the ball at Cheve and the outing to Salisbury, thus ensuring that the discreditable events of each occasion were at the forefront of their minds. Tea finished and a message sent to Peter that they would require the carriage in twenty minutes, they strolled over to the market cross.
Built of stone, it was some twenty feet high with four turrets on top, an impressive monument. In a niche on one side they found inscribed the tale Sarah was looking for.
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