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Hearing that tenants, as her parents once had been, were suffering because of ill-used money softened her. Of course, she would lend the necessary sum. “It’ll be provided for.”
“Right. Any other conditions?” Hugh inquired. She could ask whatever crossed her mind; he wanted only her.
“I’ll keep my house. It’ll be accounted for as my wedding present, together with the maintenance budget.” The maintenance budget would encompass the money she sent her aunt every month to keep her comfortable.
She wanted a place to run to, did she? A refuge, if things got difficult, he thought. Well, he wished to have nothing to do with a house that had belonged to one of her men. Blast them all! “Alright.” He said simply, while blood boiled in his veins.
She smiled politely. “Good. I’ll have a contract drawn and we’ll sign it before the wedding.”
He nodded. “We’ll have an engagement party at the Hawkmore’s house next week.” He would put a ring in her hand, a family heirloom, well understood. He would mark his right over her. He did not know what made her change her mind, but he felt excessively glad she did.
“That’s fine.” She stood up and he followed. “But I’d like a simple wedding ceremony.”
“I want that too.” He walked to her, took her face in her hands. He looked deep in her eyes as he murmured hoarse. “We can consider ourselves engaged.” He kissed her parted lips.
She closed her eyes and savoured the kiss, as everything else vanished from her mind. He deepened the kiss and it took on an erotic quality. He explored her mouth over and over.
She broke the kiss before she lost control. “Hugh! This is an overreaction for having saved your estate.” She said in ragged breath.
This annoyed him. Why did she have to be such a…banker when he burned for her? In an impulse, he grabbed her hand. "I don't think this has anything to do with estate income." He rested her hand on his bulky trousers.
A shot of desire zinged through her body and parked right in her middle. Their eyes clashed and she flushed violently. Hunger for him overtook her, as she lifted her head and stared at him wide-eyed, parted lips.
The sight of her only too much for him. If he did not leave at that exact minute, he would ravish her on the desk, which did not sound as a bad idea after all. He bowed and left.
CHAPTER 13
The engagement party had been the rage of the ton. An Earl and a widow who owned a bank were to get married. The Earl who refused female company after the tragic loss of his ‘beloved’ wife and the serene, discreet widow who shied away from suitors of any kind. The guests had flocked in to witness such a curious match. Lord Hawkmore did not disappoint them. It came to be a lavishing ball, held in his modern Victorian mansion. Naturally, everyone was aware that Lady Wilkins had not been a blue-blood. Nonetheless, nobility marrying money became common pla
ce and people tended to overlook this.
Hugh felt exceedingly satisfied to get Sarah to accept his proposal, but he did not want to show it publicly. Sarah, on the other hand felt happy with her own decision and did not want to give it away either.
Sarah wore a modest fine golden dome dress that went perfectly with her sparrow-wing coloured hair and her brown eyes. Hugh and Sarah opened the ball with a waltz in each other’s arms. They looked suitably content. The gossip newspapers would report them as the couple of the season. Then they toasted each other as Hugh put a centenary gold engagement ring in her finger and kissed it respectfully.
After that, they made public appearances. Hugh had been very specific about taking Sarah to the Opera. He remembered the time he wanted so badly to take her there because she would value art instead of seeing and being seen; like his former wife.
Sarah had been to the opera before, of course. She had been there with Sir Alfred and several other times on her own. She loved the music and the acting. But she’d always sit in the common audience. Her social rank would not give her access to the more noble areas.
However, today she would watch La Traviatta in Hugh’s private box. She could barely hide her excitement. Before it started, they socialized and were approached by the most prominent personalities of the Ton and were congratulated on their engagement.
When the opera was about to start, Hugh led Sarah to his box in his arm. Difficult for him not to show how glad he felt to be there with her, a dream coming true. They sat side by side in the dimly lit box. When the music started, and all the audience in the dark; Hugh took Sarah’s hand and held it, entwining his long elegant fingers to her tiny ones. He wanted to be closer to her, but etiquette prevented him from it.
Sarah held his hand and enjoyed a feeling of rapture to be there with him. She would treasure every single moment spent in his company. The feel of his skin, his proximity made her the happiest woman in that theatre.
When the opera finished, they bid good-bye to their acquaintances and Hugh took her to his carriage. His impulse to take her home and spend the night satiating his longing for her. Not possible, though. Now all the Ton’s eyes were on them and he would need to wait for their wedding. So he dutifully took her to her house and headed to his empty Victorian house.
Hugh watched Sarah as she walked towards the altar in the small chapel in his estate, and felt something strange stir inside him. The servants and tenants gathered for the occasion and did not take their eyes off her. Just like him. Her sparrow-wing coloured hair caught the faint morning sun that filtered through the stained glass windows and reflected reddish strands. Her brown eyes glowed with some special light. Indefinable. The feelings inside him swelled and warmed. Love. It crashed on him. He loved that woman, and he had done it for a long time. What a bitter-sweet realisation! Right on their wedding’s day! So sad she did not seem to love him back. It felt so deep and so intense. He would love for them both if need be. Then she lifted her eyes and met his. A wave of sweetness invaded him. He had to make an effort to keep his dignified posture.
Sarah carried in the aisle in her simple cream dress and a bunch of lilies on her hand, the gold ring he had put there weeks ago sparkling. She looked at him, magnificent, in his formal dark suit, matching his jet-black hair falling on his forehead. Love being all there had been to feel at that moment. It overflowed in her.
What came after that she remembered very little. The reverend’s words, the lunch in the garden. Nevertheless, she remembered clearly the exchange of the vows, as they looked directly into each other’s eyes; she said the words form the bottom of her heart.
She sat in her dressing room upstairs, while her lady’s maid prepared her for the night. She had been informed that the lady of the manor would not have her own bedroom, only a dressing room. The lord’s order. She had to go to his chambers when ready.
As she sat in front of the mirror, she started feeling awkward. They had never shared a bed in his chambers. They shared her cot and the gamekeeper’s cottage bedroom. Clandestine and searing. She had been in his chambers in his London house once, when she had experienced a lord’s bed for a few minutes for the first time in her life. The bed that felt like heaven.
Ready, she stood up and went to his chambers. The candles lit and the huge, fluffy bed prepared for them; but he was nowhere to be seen. She sat on the edge of the mattress and waited, hands folded on her lap.
