Page 55 of One Waltz with the Viscount

‘My lord, we need to do this somewhere private,’ Miss Shepherd said, glancing around them.

She was right, he knew she was right, yet he couldn’t wait long. He had so much he wanted to say to her, and he felt as though a clock was ticking nearby, telling him he only had a limited time to tell her before she disappeared for ever.

Grabbing hold of her hand he started walking fast, pulling her through the streets. He checked a couple of times she was keeping up, but mainly strode with a sense of purpose like never before.

‘You’re taking me to your lodgings?’ Miss Shepherd said, stopping dead in the street outside his front door.

‘We need to talk somewhere private.’

‘I thought you meant a quiet spot in the park, or a bench by the river.’

‘That’s not private.’ He was aware of the emotions roiling inside him, and knew when he began talking they could all start to slip out. He did not want to be out in public when that happened.

‘It will ruin my reputation.’

‘There is no one here, no one to see. Please, Miss Shepherd. Sarah.’

It felt good to call her by her first name, and he saw something soften in her as he did so. She looked up at the house apprehensively, then gave a quick nod.

Before she could change her mind he went to the door and unlocked it, ushering her into the quiet house. They went for the stairs leading up to his set of rooms quickly. Within a minute she was inside his sitting room.

Henry felt some of the tension leave his body. He had a little time now that Sarah had agreed to come into his home. A little time to formulate his thoughts and tell her how he felt.

‘Would you like a drink?’

‘No,’ she said, stepping cautiously into the room.

Now he had her here he didn’t know how to start. Sarah must have seen this—she stepped forward, a little tentatively, and took his hand.

‘Perhaps we can sit,’ she said, indicating the sofa that was bathed in sunlight from the window. It was large enough for the two of them, and would allow them to sit side by side comfortably.

‘Is this real?’ he asked as they sat and Sarah gave a soft smile.

‘I’ve asked myself that every morning since meeting you.’

‘Ever since what happened with Anne, I have struggled to trust my own emotions. I doubt what I am feeling, and try to second guess everything.’

‘I know. I can see.’

‘Yet I find the idea of you leaving hurts me physically.’ He looked away, not wanting her to see how much he was struggling. Sarah reached out and touched his chin ever so gently, waiting for his resistance to ebb, and then she turned him back to face her.

‘I cried myself to sleep last night, thinking I would never see you again,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘I should be happy that I found my sister, that I finally know she is safe and well, and I am, but it is overshadowed by this feeling of loss, knowing that I will never see you again.’

‘I do not wish to be cruel, but you are everything I promised myself I would avoid in a woman.’

‘Everything?’

He looked at her and shook his head. ‘You’re right. Of course not everything.’ His eyes raked over her, as if seeing her for the first time, and it dawned on him how stupid he’d been. ‘Of course not everything,’ he murmured again. ‘You are sweet and kind and generous and loving. You are brave and headstrong and beautiful.’

He had been so focussed on her social status, so worried that it was history repeating itself, that he had never stopped to consider that Sarah was a different woman to Anne.

‘I was so fixated on not wanting to make the same mistakes again, I only saw the similarities to my marriage to Anne, not the many, many differences.’

‘What does this mean?’

It was a question he wasn’t ready to answer yet. It felt as though a musket ball had exploded in his brain, scrambling his every thought. These last few days he’d felt tortured, trying to deny the overwhelming feelings he had for Sarah, telling himself again and again nothing could happen. So much of their meeting had mirrored how he had met and fallen in love with Anne. Yet the meeting and the difference in their social status was the only thing the two relationships had in common.

‘I need to consider my sister,’ he said slowly. It was still important to him to help his sister escape their father’s clutches, or at least find some way of supporting her until she was able to marry and get away from their father. He would not abandon her just because his own feelings had changed.