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Chapter 7
Lady Sarah’s heart skipped a beat when she couldn’t find Lisbeth. Although the girl was intelligent and could manage herself, Sarah felt responsible for her younger sister, particularly since she was acting as her chaperone.
To her great relief, Lisbeth was discovered in the ballroom, chatting with new friends and only a few gentlemen.
“Where have you been?” Sarah asked.
“I have danced twice. Oh, it was so much fun.”
“There’s pudding in the dining room if you feel so inclined.”
“Yes, I do!”
Sarah escorted Lisbeth to the dining room, and she noted that the Earl of Buckland was still there. There was something about the mysterious earl that was fascinating. He seemed to be the life of the party because he usurped the duke’s attention. Still, Sarah couldn’t banish from her mind the notion that she recognized the fellow from somewhere. Although that was impossible since he said that he harkened from Wales.
“Sarah, look at the selection,” Lisbeth said, eyeing the array of puddings on display.
“Yes, Lisbeth. Go ahead and treat yourself.”
Sarah’s gaze once more met Lord Reginald Simmons, and she blinked several times before looking away. The man was impossibly handsome—much more so than the duke—but Sarah didn’t dwell on such things. Appearances meant nothing.
She watched as Lisbeth took an array of sweet selections and tucked in with great enthusiasm. Within a quarter hour’s time, Lisbeth was complaining of fatigue and a stomach ache, something her sister could have warned her off of.
“I must sleep,” Lisbeth said, her eyes partially closed.
“Come along, let me take you to bed.”
Without saying her adieus, Sarah took Lisbeth by the shoulders, leading her up the stairs to her appointed room.
The guest rooms of the Duke of Faversham’s estate were lavish, to say the least. Lisbeth’s room had a lady in waiting already standing by, and Sarah felt confident that she could leave her sister be, on her own, to prepare for sleep.
Once she closed the door and departed, Sarah heaved a sigh of relief. The ball was almost done, and Sarah was exhausted. Soon, it would be the time when Sarah could return to London and not have to bother with all the dancing and conversation.
She had the mind to retire to her own room for the evening, but another thought seemed much more appealing. Sarah made her way to the library, which she knew to be lavish, and upon stepping inside, not only was she fortunate enough to discover a fire crackling, but she was also quite alone.
For the first time in several days, Sarah felt excitement in her breast—and contentment. When she was in a library, she was free to be herself. There was no need to put on airs or pretend. Sarah could open a book and allow her mind to wander to distant lands.
As she scanned the bookshelves, Sarah traced the spines of the books with her fingers. She loved the feel of the leather binding and the smell of the pages. Spotting one book, in particular, Sarah pulled it out and opened it.Endless Twilight, it was called.
As Sarah began to read it, she realized that it was a Gothic novel—one of her favourites. She smiled to herself, looking from side to side to ensure that no one was observing her. Seeing as she was quite alone, Sarah walked over to the fireplace and knelt before it, becoming instantly intoxicated by the words she read.
Her father always scolded Sarah for reading Gothic novels. She’d often have to hide them from view so that he wouldn’t see. Sarah was entranced by the horror and romance of these books, and she found that all of her cares disappeared as she continued with the stories.
Finishing the first chapter, Sarah gently closed the book and looked into the fire. Thoughts of the Duke of Faversham came to mind—how it was clear that he was courting her. Could Sarah live in the very estate that surrounded her? Of course, she could. Perhaps she’d merely read to pass the days, overcome the various balls and fetes, and lay her head down to rest each night in luxury linens.
Oh, but the idea was still vexing. Sarah wished to be free. She wanted to choose the tenor of her days; whom she’d interact with, where she’d go, what she’d do. Marriage seemed like something of a cage and a fate that she didn’t even need to rely upon for pecuniary reasons. Yet still, her father would never have it. The Duke of Benton wanted Sarah to marry. He wouldn’t relent.
Sarah sighed to herself. She felt a knot in her stomach, realizing that the whole subject made her anxious. Sarah opened the book once more, hoping to escape into the story yet again.
Sarah’s attention was stolen by the sound of the door opening and then footsteps. She quickly closed the book and hid it behind her back. No doubt, it was Lord Edward coming to search for her. Would he be cross with Sarah for leaving the ball?
A figure emerged, and Sarah narrowed her eyes, trying to ascertain who it was in the dim light of the library. As he got closer, Sarah recognized the Earl of Buckland. He had removed his coat, revealing his white shirt—and his expansive shoulders. Sarah felt a quickening in her heart and brought her hand up to her chest.
“Pardon me, My Lord. You startled me.”
“It’s quite all right. I didn’t know if anyone else would be here.”
“I was alone when I entered. I probably shouldn’t have come.”
