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Sarah returned to her horse, and Patrick did the same, admiring her all the while that she walked. “Lord Henry Spencer,” Sarah said coyly. “If I’m not mistaken, you’re staring at me.”
“And I intend to do so for the rest of my life.”
Sarah smiled warmly. “I will accept your gaze, so long as you accept my heart.”
“I could never possibly deny it. I’ll hold it safely in my own.”
With that, Patrick helped Sarah back onto her horse, and once more, she delighted in his hands upon her waist. Once seated, Patrick got onto his own horse, and they followed the duke’s carriage towards the inn.
Within a short time, they arrived, and Sarah found the exterior of the inn to be utterly charming.
“How did he know of this establishment?” she asked. “So quaint and lovely.”
“Wales is known for its charming inns. It shall be a lovely place to rest our heads tonight.”
“I agree,” Sarah said, looking to Patrick.
He gazed into her eyes for several moments, and Sarah was inclined to think they were sharing one another’s thoughts—that they desired their own room.
Helping her off her horse again, they walked side by side towards the inn, the stars just beginning to twinkle overhead. Lisbeth appeared just as excited as Sarah, for she quickly approached.
“Can we share a room?” Lisbeth asked in anticipation.
Sarah turned to Patrick, disappointment written on his face. “I suppose,” she said to Lisbeth, who clapped her hands together.
Upon entering the inn, the proprietor behind the desk appeared anxious at first to see such a large crowd, but that anxiousness turned to satisfaction when the duke demanded several rooms.
“As luck would have it,” the proprietor said, looking down at his ledger. “It’s quiet in the inn this evening. We shall be able to accommodate your party.”
“Most kind,” the duke replied.
Once the arrangements were made, and Sarah was given a key, she led Lisbeth to their room on the second floor and opened the door. Inside, the room was just as charming as the rest of the inn. A small fire crackled in the corner, and several tapers were lit.
Sarah sighed to herself. Despite the hour, she found that she’d already grown weary and would perhaps retire early so that they could make a fresh start of it in the morning.
“I hear that all the men have already gathered in the small tavern downstairs,” Lisbeth said with a frown. “Why do the men get to do so much more than us?”
Sarah removed her hat and coat. “Because they enjoy drinking and smoking, to such a degree that they don’t want to instill fear in the women,” Sarah said humorously.
“It’s not fair. They appear to have so much more fun than we do.”
Sarah had to consider that. Perhaps it was true that the men had more fun. They certainly enjoyed many more freedoms. But Sarah considered herself quite content with her life. She didn’t need to sit in taverns and carry on—all she needed was a good book and Patrick’s love.
As she changed out of her travelling gown, Sarah enjoyed the freedom of not having a lady-in-waiting doing every last thing for her. Although it was a superior luxury to be treated in such a way, Sarah had very little assistance in their townhome in London, and much preferred it that way.
“What a wonderful day we have ahead of us tomorrow,” Lisbeth said, dropping herself onto the bed.
“Indeed,” Sarah replied, removing her earrings and placing them on a table.
Several minutes later, as Lisbeth appeared to be nearly asleep, Sarah quietly sat and looked out the window. The rain came down gently, and she delighted in the sound of it. Just then, there was a soft knock upon the door, and Sarah got up to open it. Patrick stood on the other side.
Sarah whispered, “I think that Lisbeth is falling asleep.”
Patrick poked his head inside the door to witness it. He then returned his attention to Sarah. “Do you know what that means?”
“You’ll take me down to the tavern and corrupt me,” Sarah said playfully.
“I have much more corruption in store,” Patrick replied, lifting his brow.
