Page 66 of One Waltz with the Viscount

‘He is a recent acquaintance.’

‘You are extraordinarily well connected for a music teacher.’

Sarah lowered her eyes and tried to stop her heart from thumping so hard that it exploded out of her chest. There was no good reason for Henry to be visiting the Huntleys. He did not know them, and they clearly were not expecting him.

This past week she had tried not to think of him. She was aware she needed to let her heart heal, but that would be impossible if she kept dwelling on every moment of their relationship.

‘He didn’t choose you,’ she told herself quietly. She didn’t harbour any ill will towards him, and in fact she probably respected him more for choosing to rescue his sister. Sarah had never been in danger, she had a life to go to, a future waiting for her. Sophia was a child—she needed to be put first.

Yet, after all they had been through, Sarah had panicked, feeling as though he was pushing her aside. Never would she be the most important thing in his life. She’d wondered if that was how her mother had felt when her father had announced his intention to terminate their relationship. That sense of loss, but alongside it the feeling of helplessness. She had not liked being without any power. That was why she had left London. She had been desperate to grab control of her own destiny again, rather than waiting—pining—for the man she loved who might never be coming back.

They all remained silent, straining to hear as Lord Routledge was admitted to the drawing room with his sister. The minutes ticked by. No one even pretended to do anything constructive, instead straining to hear the conversation from the room on the other side of the hall.

‘Lord Routledge is here,’ Mr Huntley said, looking puzzled as he entered the room a few minutes later. ‘He has begged my indulgence in giving him a few minutes to speak with Miss Shepherd.’

All eyes turned to Sarah, and she felt her hand begin to shake. Quickly she buried them in the folds of her dress.

‘Do you wish to speak to him?’ Mrs Huntley asked.

Sarah nodded, rising from her seat. As she entered the drawing room she had the urge to run to him, to throw her arms around his neck and lose herself in his kiss. Of course that was not possible, not after everything that had happened between them, and certainly not with her employer looking on curiously.

‘Miss Shepherd,’ Lord Routledge said, breaking out into a smile. ‘It is very good to see you again.’

‘And you, my lord.’

‘I do not think you have met my sister while in London, this is Lady Sophia.’

‘It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Sophia.’

The young girl crossed the space between them and gripped Sarah’s hand. ‘My brother has told me ever so much about you. I know we are going to be firm friends.’

Sarah managed a smile but felt her world tilt and rock. She did not know why Henry was here. She wouldn’t put it past him to come and check she was settled in her new position, to assure her everything in London was fine, and to quietly enquire if she’d had her monthly bleed yet. However they had left their relationship, he would not shirk his responsibilities.

‘I know it is a little unusual, but Miss Shepherd and I have something of great importance we wish to discuss. Might you spare her for ten minutes? We could take a stroll in the gardens.’

‘Of course,’ Mr Huntley said amiably.

‘Perhaps, Lady Sophia, you would like to join my daughters and I for some refreshment,’ Mrs Huntley said, eyeing the pretty young woman. Sophia was the daughter of an Earl, and it was never too early to start cultivating connections in society.

‘That sounds wonderful, thank you.’

A few minutes later Sarah and Henry were alone, although careful to keep within view of the house. Sarah walked with her head bowed, unable to believe Henry was here, but struggling to know what to expect from this meeting.

‘I hoped to catch you before you left London,’ Henry said as they strolled through the rose garden. There were a dozen different varieties laid out in neat beds, all in bloom. Bees buzzed around, darting from flower to flower, and the air was sweet with the scent of flowers.

‘I did not linger,’ she shrugged, ‘there was no reason for me to.’

‘A lot happened that night. I am still reeling from it.’

She inclined her head, unable to look at him. Inside she was a horrible mix of anxious and hopeful, although she would never admit the latter to herself.

He told her of the late evening trip to his father’s house and how he had taken inspiration from her, climbing in through an open upstairs window. He explained how he had spoken to Sophia and realised he could not leave her there, under the control of their father.

She gasped when he told her of the moment Sophia had revealed what she’d overheard about the fire, gripping his arm.

‘Your father arranged to have your wife killed? Henry I am so sorry.’

‘I believe he did not know Anne was going to be in the house when it was set alight. His primary aim was to take my home from me, and my source of income. I told you before, he hated that I was not reliant on him for money, and although my income was modest, I was making enough to provide Anne and I with a basic but decent quality of life.’ He grimaced and shook his head. ‘I have to believe he did not order the man who set the fire to kill Anne on purpose. I do not know if I could bear to be related to such a monster.’