AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Then he felt the glimmer of something. A sensation that spoke of a future which was concrete and permanent. The feeling of solidity he wanted to nurture and keep, not crush and destroy. He let it unfurl inside him, a far more interesting idea than listening to the cost of polishing the bloody chandeliers, which George was now discussing with him. As if he needed to know. But since Sara had entered the house it seemed the staff took their obligations of accountability terribly seriously. And rather than talking about said chandeliers and their repair he wanted to find her. Perhaps take her to their room, peel off whichever pretty dress she wore today. Make her gasp his name. Of course it didn’t really need to be in their room.
He stared at the gleaming surface of the desk he was sitting at. Couldn’t get out of his head the memory of Sara splayed out for him on the desktop, skin flushed, the glorious taste of her on his lips as she writhed under his tongue. Really, this room was no longer a place of work but a playground for his fantasies. And he had plans for every flat surface of his home. A dinner for two in the grand dining room, where he’d lay her out on the table and—
‘You’re not listening to a word I say.’
Could George imagine what might have been distracting him? Perhaps. He was canny like that. The man had been with him for years.
‘No. You can do what you want with the chandeliers. You always have. Why now?’
‘Lady Sara was raised to be a queen.’ How much better would the Duchess of Bedmore sound?Perfect.And where had that thought come from? He shut it down. George went on. ‘She will have high expectations, and all of us at Astill Hall are determined to exceed them.’
‘I think she’s merely happy to be here. I don’t believe she has any expectations.’
Though Lance wasn’t sure. Was she happy? He wanted her to be. It seemed imperative to discover whether she was. Immediately.
‘Perhaps I should find Lady Sara and ask her?’ George asked.
Lance gave a wry smile. ‘Not if I find her first.’
His butler gave a knowing smile in return. ‘If I may say—’
‘Nothing’s stopped you before.’
George cleared his throat. ‘You’ve done well. Sara is a delight. We, all of us, are genuinely happy for you. It’s a pleasure to have her in the house. And we’ve been wondering, would you like us to resurrect the nursery?’
‘Thewhat?’
The words were almost strangled in his throat. Except the thought of the nursery with a cot and mobile and pretty wallpaper didn’t fill him with dread as he thought it should. He rubbed at an ache in his chest that felt something like yearning. For little cherubs like her. Hell, he couldn’t be going there. But now his mind was filled with a vision of Sara, belly round with his child, sitting in the nursery in a rocking chair, nursing a baby. Of them running through the once silent halls, chasing squealing children. Little angels like herself. Those visions he’d had on the plane, as they were flying over here mere weeks before, coming back with a vengeance.
They made him glow with a satisfying heat, rather than cringe with cold dread. He should put an end to this talk, but somehow he couldn’t. The words wouldn’t come out to stop what he knew was foolishness and fantasy.
‘Perhaps you should ask Sara what she’d like to do.’
There, he’d leave it with her and shut down these unfamiliar feelings. She’d tell George to wait, and that would be the end of that.
Lance stood, and his phone began to ring. He frowned. ‘It’s Victoria. I have to take it.’
George nodded and left the room as Lance picked up the phone.
‘Vic. How are you?’
‘Lance...’ The sound was hollow with a slight delay, as if she was far away, her voice quiet and uncertain. ‘It’s only a quick call to let you know. I’m not allowed to talk for long.’
Allowed. A prickle of concern marched down his spine.
‘Where are you?’
‘Switzerland. A...a...clinic. Bruce thought it best.’
Hearing those words was like being thrown from his polo pony. The shock, then landing with a bone-jarring thud. That husband of hers, he’d never thought of what might be best for Vic. Ever. Only himself and his career. Even if it crushed Vic in the process.
‘Why? What’s happened? Why is it best?’
‘I need some time.’ Her voice was so tired, as if all the life had leached out of her. She’d been such a vibrant young woman, once a bright and shining light like Sara. Then she’d married and everything had dimmed.
‘Mother agrees. Bruce is going through a lot at the moment, what with the campaign and my inability to fall pregnant, and I’m...’
Politics. Parents and a man who didn’t cherish his wife.
