Regency High Society Vol 6: The Enigmatic Rake / The Lord And The Mystery Lady / The Wagering Widow / An Unconventional Widow

‘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.’

‘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.

Chapter Seven

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!’

Neither could Thea, given his lordship’s reputation for escorting stunning and expensive females to the opera, as Judith had informed her in glorious detail. But she could hardly say that to Sarah, could she?

Nicholas ran his cousin to ground at Brooks’s and sat with him over a decanter of port.

‘Nick. I did not know you were in town so soon. I wonder why! Will you join me in a hand of whist?’

Lord Nicholas laughed as he poured the ruby liquid into two glasses and picked up the cards. ‘You know very well why! Thea insisted. We had a letter from Judith, of course. She waxed eloquent of your doings, Sher.’ They sat at ease, choosing and discarding the cards, the family likeness very evident in their height and build and striking Faringdon features, although, unlike his cousin, Nicholas’s hair was dark as a crow’s wing without any hint of silver.

‘Ah.’ Joshua’s brows rose. ‘Then all is clear.’

‘Indeed. And will be even clearer when you have met my wife.’

Joshua grinned. A strong-willed lady, I am led to understand.’

‘She can be.’ Nicholas drank, fully satisfied with his domestic situation after his fraught courtship and marriage with the outrageous but entirely intoxicating débutante, Theodora Wooton-Devereux. ‘So. Marriage, is it?’

‘Yes.’

‘I can recommend it.’ Nicholas angled a sharp glance at Joshua’s impassive face.

‘I have tried it before,’ Joshua reminded him gently.

‘I know.’ Nicholas hid his concerns. ‘I hope that this is a more propitious marriage.’ Then, unconsciously mimicking his wife: ‘Sher—are you sure?’

‘Yes. But I am not sure that the bride is.’ Lord Joshua abandoned his cards face down on the table, eyed the dark intensity of his port with a crease between his brows.

‘You know, Sher…’ Nicholas leaned forward to make his point, although unsure of his true intentions ‘… I have come to know Sarah very well. On the surface there is little similarity between Sarah and Theodora, as you will see for yourself. But beneath her gentle exterior Sarah has a spine of such strength, you could never imagine it. She can be truly intimidating, with a strong sense of justice, as I found to my cost when I was caught up in a web of intrigue and deceit with Theodora. I am not sure what I wish to say here—except that she is not as fragile as she might seem.’

‘Oh?’

Nick shook his head. ‘No.’ He remembered Sarah taking him to task over his heartless treatment of Theodora when he had unjustly, cruelly, accused her of a harsh betrayal. ‘All I mean to say is that it does not do to underestimate her. But perhaps you know that already.’

‘I do.’ The lines on Joshua’s face smoothed out. ‘Although I do not yet know her well, the lady has surprised me on more than one occasion.’

Nicholas nodded his satisfaction. ‘So let us drink to your future happiness.’

They raised their glasses and did so.

Meanwhile Thea and Judith took Sarah under their combined elegant and sophisticated wing and carried her off to one of the most fashionable modistes in Bond Street.

‘I need you to tell me what to wear for the occasion.’ Sarah could not quench the very feminine ripple of pleasurable anticipation at the prospect as Judith’s barouche collected her from Hanover Square. She had never in her life worn stylish clothing, having neither the money nor the opportunity. And now she was faced with a necessity! As she informed her interested audience of two, ‘My lord—Joshua—insists that I be fashionable and stylish. That I spend a considerable amount of his money—and enjoy it. And I must accept gifts from him without argument. And I agreed.’

Which the ladies thought a strange statement for the bride to make but, beyond a quick glance between them, declined to comment.

‘We shall be delighted to help.’ Judith could think of no better manner in which to spend a morning. ‘It is to be so soon.’

‘And I am so nervous,’ Sarah admitted. ‘I am not sure why. It is not as though I have never been married before.’

Judith hugged her in quick understanding. ‘Sher will never neglect or hurt you, you know,’ she advised. ‘He was always the kindest of brothers when I was growing up and a considerable nuisance.’

‘I know, but I suddenly think I should never have agreed to it.’ Apprehension washed over her again in a chilling wave, as it seemed to do with unnerving frequency as the day of her wedding grew ever closer.

‘You deserve your good fortune.’

‘Well—as to that…’ She took a deep breath, her fingers clasping in white-knuckled tension. ‘What if Lord Faringdon begins to have second thoughts when he remembers—’

‘Sarah!’ stated Judith sternly. ‘You have long paid your debts to this family. Accept what Sher is prepared to give you. He never does anything that he does not wish to do, you can be very sure of that. Enjoy it.’

‘Very well.’ She visibly forced her pre-wedding nerves to settle, relieved beyond words that his lordship had found a need to visit Richmond for a few days and so would be away from home until the day before the wedding.

‘Have you written to tell Eleanor and Hal?’ Thea asked to distract the bride’s mind from any further fears for her future marriage.

‘Yes, indeed. I wrote this week.’ It seemed to have the desired effect as Sarah’s face brightened. ‘I think they will be surprised. They do not even know that I have met Joshua, thinking he would still be in Paris.’

‘But they will be delighted, I am sure.’

Sarah nodded. ‘They have always wished me well.’

‘We had a letter—last month, I think it was,’ Judith informed her companions. ‘One of Nell’s lengthy epistles. Has Nicholas heard anything more since then, Thea?’

‘No. Tell me that they are very happy.’

Judith laughed. ‘Ecstatically—according to Nell. The baby is growing—Nell says that he has a will of iron exactly like his father when he is thwarted. But he is a delight—the baby and Hal, I suppose.’ Judith chuckled. ‘Hal is making money and a name for himself in local politics. Tom is more like a Faringdon every day. He will be a year or two older than John, I expect.’ She turned to look at Sarah, only to see a flicker of unease in those quiet blue eyes.

‘Yes. He will be eight years old now. I envy Hal and Eleanor—their love and commitment and happiness together.’ Which caused Judith and Thea to realise that they had not distracted Sarah’s mind from her problems at all.

‘Here is Madame Stephanie’s,’ Judith said with some relief as the carriage pulled up.

Sarah smiled and set her mind to please her friends and solve the vexed question of clothing. ‘So what do I wear? Nothing of your choosing, Thea! You would have me decked out in emerald and cream stripes, which would swamp me entirely. You can carry it off, but I could not.’

‘Of course not.’ Thea laughed as she smoothed the skirts of the stunning gown that she wore to magnificent effect. ‘Not you at all. Now, let us think…’

The result of their lengthy visit to Madame Stephanie’s was highly satisfying and in the way of a transformation. Sarah finally paraded before them in a high-waisted gown of delicate eau de nil with slender fitted sleeves and discreet ruffles around hem and low neckline. The watered silk shimmered in the light as she moved, as insubstantial as shadows under water. A velvet spencer was added in case the important day, so late in the year, was inclement. Gloves, kid sandals, and the ladies pronounced themselves delighted with the new bride. Finally a lace parasol, faintly ridiculous in November, but entirely necessary to a lady’s wardrobe, which Judith insisted on buying for her as an impromptu wedding present, along with a matching silk reticule and a satin straw bonnet with silk ribbons and flowers in the same hue. It was supremely elegant. Youthful but with a touch of maturity, exactly suited to a young widow. Festive enough for a quiet wedding and an informal wedding breakfast.

Perfect in every sense, Thea decided as she watched her sister, delighted for her happiness, but not without a hint foreboding. And hoped that Lord Joshua Faringdon might be more than a little surprised when he set eyes on the lady whom he had known only in the plain and formal garb of his housekeeper, solemn and withdrawn, rather than the laughing lady who posed before her reflection with grace and charm, her eyes shining with innocent pleasure in her new gown. There was so much in the way of love and generosity about Sarah for him to discover. Theodora smiled with perhaps a gentle malice towards the absent gentleman and silently wished her sister well.

Madame Stephanie nodded her approval with gushing compliments, seeing the future opportunities for dressing the new Lady Joshua Faringdon.

Judith clapped her hands in delight. ‘Poor Sher. He has taken on a beauty and does not realise it. It will do him good!’

Sarah simply shook her head and blushed. But glanced at herself in the mirror with something like shock.

‘The neckline of the dress sits well on you,’ Thea observed as they prepared to depart. ‘I think I will give you a string of pearls to wear with it.’

‘I had some,’ Sarah admitted, a trifle wistfully. ‘From our mother—the only jewellery she had left for me to inherit. But I had to sell them. I needed the money, you see, when John, my husband, died…’ She turned her face away to hide the flush of embarrassment. ‘I did not mean to tell you that.’

‘Oh, Sarah. I don’t think I ever realised how difficult things must have been for you. I am so sorry.’

‘On occasion they were.’ Sarah turned back with the sweetest of smiles. ‘But not today. Today I have forgotten the dark times.’ Her quick smile illuminated her whole face as she squeezed Thea’s hand, and Thea prayed silently that the tranquillity and happiness, so absent from Sarah’s life, would now enfold her for eternity.

Although Sarah might have been entirely caught up in preparations for her marriage, she was determined not to neglect her responsibilities as housekeeper and governess since she had not as yet been replaced in either role. It was not in her nature to do so—nor to sit at ease; since Joshua was still absent in Richmond, it gave her thoughts something to occupy them. But not enough. At any time during the day—or night—she found herself thinking of what he might be doing and when he might return. Was he missing her, even a little, or did he never give her a passing thought beyond that of an obligation to which he was now tied through some quixotic impulse and which he was coming to regret? She hissed her frustrations and looked round for something else to do. So, the next day, after a particularly tedious lesson—even to her mind—in the use of globes with John and Beth, she decide to investigate the attics. The top floor of the house in Hanover Square was a place, like all attics as far as Sarah was concerned, of dust and cobwebs and stored treasures that had long outlived their usefulness.

‘Just look at all this!’ She stood with her hands on her hips, daunted by the extent of abandoned relics of a past life in the house.

‘It’s exciting.’ Eyes round, John could hardly restrain his joy. ‘Like Aladdin’s cave in the stories. Or buried treasure.’

Beth twitched her skirts from the dust with superior distaste, but was secretly enthralled. ‘Can we look in the boxes?’

John was already opening and closing them, declaring it better than lessons. ‘It’s just like exploring an unknown country, as Captain Cook did. As I will do when I am old enough to have my own ship. I shall discover a new country. Perhaps more than one.’ He pulled out an elderly stuffed bird, probably an owl, its feathers moulting on the floor. ‘Which country did this come from?’

‘England, I think. Nothing too exciting.’ His mama smiled. Today it was ships and exploration rather than horses.

She regarded the jumbled piles of unwanted items with a sudden decision not to embark on such a project until she really had nothing better to do. Pieces of furniture, some heavy and carved, some spindly and gilded, but all long out of fashion. A box of unframed water colours of pastoral scenes by some eighteenth-century Faringdon lady—no talent here, Sarah judged, so no wonder they had been allowed to moulder in the attic. There were boxes of clothes, dry and dusty and lavender scented, with a hint of moth, which allowed Beth, to her delight, to dress up and parade in some outmoded creation in heavy damask with whalebone stays and a heavy train.

‘Look at me!’ Beth swept the floor, sending up clouds of dust. ‘Am I not a lady?’

Sarah chuckled. ‘You are indeed a fine lady.’

Beth fastened a spray of egret feathers in her hair, albeit lopsided. ‘I think I am like Grandmama Beatrice. She often wears feathers and is very grand.’

‘So she does. Take care with those backless slippers.’

‘I can walk perfectly well in them.’ Laughing, she swept an ungainly curtsy.

John entertained himself with cries of glee in a chest of discarded toys, lining up a row of broken long-faded lead soldiers. ‘Perhaps I will be a soldier instead. Or a pirate. Can I be a pirate, Mama?’

‘We’ll see.’ Now was not the moment to discuss so lawless an occupation. Meanwhile, Sarah inspected the rest. A firescreen, a birdcage with a broken door, frayed and worn bed-hangings, packets of letters and old documents—all the detritus of life over the years—no, she certainly did not have the energy to clear it all out. Besides, as Lady Faringdon, she would have every excuse not to roll up her sleeves and tackle it herself.

Stacked against the far wall were paintings, some of them of houses and parkland. One was of the estate in Richmond, from the name inscribed in the frame, one might have been the Faringdon country house at Burford under its discoloured varnish, the rest she did not recognise. And portraits. One of Lady Beatrice, probably in the early days of her marriage, which brought a glint of amusement to Sarah’s eyes. She understood exactly why that lady had banished it to the dust and darkness. The artist had no flair and had captured no flattering features in the sitter. One pair of matching portraits showed Joshua and Judith as children. Very attractive, with Judith looking positively angelic and Joshua vastly superior. The rest, as far as she could tell, were old, of people she did not recognise, with Faringdon colouring and features, but with the stiff formality and dress of the past two centuries.

Finally, a group of smaller portraits came to hand, which she turned over with little interest. Family again. Until coming upon a small portrait, life size, but head and shoulders only, which caught her attention. From the neckline of the gown, low across the generous bosom, and the styling of the hair into high-crowned ringlets, it would seem to be of recent origin. Perhaps even in the last decade. A striking lady, young, but not a girl, and not a Faringdon. A dark brunette with distinctly slanted brows and high cheekbones, not a classic beauty, but arresting. And with a tantalising smile on her full mouth and a flirtatious sparkle in her dark eyes, as if she would beckon and beguile. A charming representation. Sarah gained the impression that the artist had caught the lady’s expression to perfection.