Page 19 of One Waltz with the Viscount

‘Not as yet, but I expect I could have a viable list for you in a few days. Do you want that?’

She shook her head, her instincts answering for her, and then sighed. ‘I suppose it would be helpful to know. There is the chance that Selina discovered his identity and went to see him, even though there is no indication of her being close to finding the truth in her letters. It would be foolish to spend all this time looking for her only to fail because I am too much of a coward to confront my father.’

‘I do not think you are a coward, Miss Shepherd,’ Lord Routledge said, his voice low and soft.

She looked up sharply and met his eye. For a moment it felt like everything else faded into the background. She forgot they were sitting in the middle of Hyde Park, and she felt an overwhelming urge to throw herself into his arms.

Quickly she rallied. She was feeling this way only because he was being kind. These past few months, ever since Selina had left, Sarah had felt so very alone. She had no one to confide in—she’d kept her friends at a distance, not wanting to tell them about her illegitimacy. Now Lord Routledge was here, offering help and asking nothing in return. It was as though he had been sent by a guardian angel, who had seen her struggling and delivered Lord Routledge to her with all his calmness and connections to the ton.

He reached out to take the last letter from her, his fingers brushing hers. She wasn’t sure if she imagined it, but she thought he lingered for a moment longer than was necessary, his little finger gently sweeping over her hand before he pulled away, breaking the contact.

Sarah quickly turned away, trying to regain her composure. She felt the skin on her chest and cheeks begin to flush, and she hoped if Lord Routledge noticed he would think it was from the sun and nothing more.

‘Is something amiss?’ he asked, looking at her with genuine concern.

Sarah shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. ‘I just need a minute.’ She gestured vaguely at the letters, hoping he would assume thinking about her sister had resulted in her feeling overwhelmed. She stood, taking a few steps away, looking out over the Serpentine but not really seeing anything.

To her surprise Lord Routledge stood too, moving behind her. He was careful to keep an appropriate distance away, there could be no hint of impropriety, watched as they were by the ladies and gentlemen strolling through the park, yet still she felt the heat of him. Sarah wanted to lean her head back, to rest against his shoulder and draw strength from him.

‘You’re being ridiculous,’ she muttered to herself. She barely knew the man. Their acquaintance had been intense over the last twenty-four hours, but there was no getting away from the fact that she had known him for less than a day.

‘We will find your sister, Miss Shepherd,’ Lord Routledge said, his words tickling her ear. More than anything right then she wanted to lean in, to bury herself in his chest and to feel his arms pull her close. She felt the heat rising in her body at the thought of their bodies being pressed so closely together and she tried to take a step away, but her feet refused to move.

Never had she felt such an intense attraction to a man, although over the last few years she had avoided most situations where she might meet someone she wanted to be with. Her mother had always advocated for a quiet, private life, forbidding Sarah and Selina from attending the local dances at the assembly rooms, discouraging them from stepping out with any young gentlemen who were keen to get to know them better. Sarah had been a dutiful daughter, going along with her mother’s wishes, even when she had not understood the motivation for them.

In the last six months since her mother’s death, Sarah had eschewed any chance of developing a relationship. She had been shaken by the discovery that all her life their mother had lived a lie. She had given her heart away when she was young, been promised the world, then left with two young children and no support from the man she thought had loved her. Sarah had seen the melancholy that had tainted her mother’s life. She’d resolved that she would focus on building her happiness in ways that were not reliant on other people. It had been one of the reasons she’d been so keen on taking the position as a music teacher to the family in Kent. It was a well-paid position for someone of her background, and the family seemed pleasant enough. She would have her own room and meals with the other servants. Sarah wasn’t naïve enough to think that life would satisfy her for the next thirty or forty years, but it would be enough for now.

Slowly she regained her composure and turned to face Lord Routledge. He looked concerned, which somehow made him even more attractive.

With great resolve she told herself that a physical attraction was nothing that couldn’t be overcome. Lord Routledge was an attractive man, it would be a lie for anyone to say otherwise. And he was being kind to her. No doubt any young woman in her situation would feel a flutter of desire.

The key was not to act on anything—to accept Lord Routledge’s help and not scare him away by allowing her imagination to build something up that was not really there.

Sarah shivered suddenly and looked up at the sky. The day so far had been gloriously warm and, as they had entered Hyde Park for a second time, she had worried that her skin might turn pink from the intensity of the sun. Yet as they had been sitting, discussing the letters, great grey clouds had bubbled up and now covered the sky. There was a chill to the air that hadn’t been there minutes before. As Sarah looked up, a fat raindrop fell from the sky and landed on her upturned face.

‘The letters,’ she and Lord Routledge said in unison and they both dashed back to the blanket, gathering up Selina’s precious letters.

Lord Routledge tucked them inside his jacket and picked up the blanket, but by the time he had roughly folded it the rain had started in earnest. All around them nursemaids and governesses were gripping the hands of their young charges, pulling them away from the Serpentine and towards the paths that led out of the park.

Overhead the clouds grew even darker. Somewhere in the distance there was a rumble of thunder.

‘We need to shelter,’ Lord Routledge said, casting his eyes around for possibilities.

‘A tree?’

‘Over there,’ he said, pointing to a massive oak that stood some distance away. Its branches were heavy with leaves and there was ample room to stand underneath it. It was some distance away from the other trees, and as yet no one else had sheltered there.

With every second that passed the rain grew heavier, falling in great droplets that soon saturated the grass. Sarah eyed the tree, still fifty feet away, and then made the decision to run, picking up her skirts and taking off through the park. She was thankful for her sensible boots, glad she had not chosen anything more elegant. Though, an hour earlier, her feet had felt hot and she’d worried about her choice of clothing amongst the elegant young ladies, strolling through the park in their dainty shoes and light, almost sheer dresses.

After thirty seconds she made it to the shelter of the tree, Lord Routledge close behind her, and they bent their heads to step under the lower of the branches, heading for the trunk in the middle.

Sarah shivered. The rain had collected in droplets and was now running down her arms and her back. Her dress was sodden.

‘I would offer you my jacket,’ Lord Routledge said, ‘but I do not think it would do much to keep you warm.’

Henry brushed the excess water from his hair and glanced over at Miss Shepherd, then quickly looked away. The material of her dress was not thin, but the downpour had soaked through it and it now clung to her body as if it were moulded to her. He could see every curve, from the outline of her hips and waist to the swell of her breasts.

He tried to be gentlemanly, but after a moment he found himself looking again.