Lady Sarah's Sinful Desires (12 page)

He frowned. “You look a bit pale. Perhaps we should see if breakfast is ready.”

Feeling increasingly hungry, Sarah immediately agreed and had just accepted his arm when a loud crash sounded farther down the hallway. Looking in the direction of the sound, Sarah saw that a maid was kneeling on the floor, frantically gathering up the items she'd been carrying while three young ladies hurried toward the dining room, giggling like girls straight out of the schoolroom as they looked back over their shoulders at the maid.

Pulling away from Lord Spencer, Sarah marched toward them. “Did you cause her to drop her tray?”

The women could not have been more than sixteen years of age, yet they looked at Sarah as though she had no business breathing the same air as them. “I don't see how that is any of your concern,” a pretty blonde stated. Sadly, her character did not match her looks.

“Have you no compassion?” Sarah asked. She had no idea who these young ladies were other than that they seemed to be future Lady Andovers in the making. “No decency? The least you can do is apologize.”

They looked incredulous. Then one of them, a slim brunette, said, “But she's a maid.” She looked toward the kneeling woman. “It's her job to do what she is doing, just as it is our job to make a smashing match for ourselves.” Looking beyond Sarah, the little shrew proceeded to bat her eyelashes at Lord Spencer while attempting a sultry smile most courtesans would have been proud of.

Good God!

“Watch yourselves or you'll be unmarried and breeding before the year is out,” Sarah hissed in a low whisper for only them to hear.

“Oh?” The third one, with light blonde ringlets, asked, her eyebrows arching as she stared hard at Sarah. “And I suppose you speak from experience?”

They exploded in a fit of laughter while Sarah struggled to still her trembling hands. Balling them into fists, she turned away, her head held high by some miracle as she went to the maid and lowered herself on the floor beside her. “Allow me to help you,” she said as she reached for a piece of broken porcelain and placed it on the tray.

“Oh, you mustn't, my lady,” the maid said, her voice quivering a little as she piled the pieces of shattered teacups back onto the tray.

“That was badly done,” Lord Spencer's voice spoke behind her, addressing the three young ladies. “You ought to be ashamed of yourselves.”

“We were just having a bit of fun,” one of the ladies complained. Sarah decided to focus on the shards of porcelain.

“Perhaps I should have a word with your parents about your deplorable behavior, not only toward Lady Duncaster's maid but toward Lady Sarah as well. You are in no position to speak to her with such disrespect.”

A muttered exchange of words followed, and then the closing of a door. Sarah sighed. At least her chest wasn't clenched as tightly as it had been earlier. Footsteps thudded against the floor. “Here's another piece,” Lord Spencer said as he bowed over Sarah. She felt his hand upon her arm, and then he was helping her to her feet. “I've asked a footman to come and assist, so please, allow me to ensure that you are well cared for—­your hunger appeased.”

“Thank you.” She accepted the arm he offered.

“That was very kind of you, what you just did,” he said as they walked away from the maid. The footman Lord Spencer had summoned arrived to help.

“I consider offering help a natural response to someone in need.”

“And yet it isn't. Not when we consider the different ranks within our Society.”

Sarah's temper flared. “Are you telling me that because she is a maid, she is less deserving of assistance? That you and I are too important to help her?”

“No. But I believe most peers would have called for someone to assist rather than offer assistance themselves.” Lowering his voice, he said, “In case you were wondering, I quite liked how domestic you looked just now. More importantly, you've proven yourself most charitable—­a trait I happen to admire a great deal.”

“Thank you, my lord, but—­”

“Lady Sarah,” he said, expelling a very exasperated sigh. “Are you not aware that a gentleman ought to be allowed the courtesy of complimenting a lady without too much resistance?”

Biting her lip, Sarah chastised herself for her stubbornness. “Please forgive me, my lord. Your words of praise are most appreciated, I assure you.”

He frowned slightly but said nothing further, nodding his approval instead.

With heightened spirits, Sarah allowed Lord Spencer to lead her through to the dining room, where an elaborate buffet, complete with sausages, bacon, kippers, eggs, toast and a variety of preserves had been prepared. Six footmen stood ready to assist, and since Sarah and Lord Spencer were the first to arrive, Sarah had no doubt that their requirements would swiftly be met.

Now that she was aware of Lord Spencer's propensity for threes, it didn't escape her notice that he added three pieces of bacon to his plate alongside his eggs, or that he stirred his coffee three times in a clockwise motion after adding a splash of milk and three spoons of sugar. Smiling quietly to herself, Sarah was busily buttering her toast when Lord Spencer rose to his feet in an unexpected hurry and said, “Good morning, my lady.”

Raising her head with a jerk, Sarah drew a sharp breath at seeing her hostess staring down at her with a distinct air of curiosity. “Good morning, Lady Duncaster,” Sarah said with immediate haste, hoping she didn't sound too dim-­witted, considering the slight pitch of her voice. “I hope you don't mind us getting a head start on the food, but we were both up at an unreasonably early hour and couldn't resist the temptation of such a wonderful assortment of dishes.” Inhaling deeply, she tried to slow the pace of her tongue, which was practically tripping over itself. “We'd be honored if you would care to join us.”

“My dear Lady Sarah,” the countess said as she looked from Sarah to Lord Spencer and then back again. “There is very little need for you to concern yourself or for you to be so wary of me, for that matter. In fact, I am really quite ordinary, in spite of my eccentricities, which I daresay are numerous. That aside, however, your family and Lord Spencer's are paying good money for a luxurious getaway. If it is your wish to venture down into the kitchen and rummage through the cupboards in search of a midnight snack, then by all means, don't let me stop you. This may be my home, but after turning it into a guesthouse, I have relinquished all expectation of receiving the same considerations that would have been my due had I not done so.” Her lips drew into a wide smile. “That said, I'd be delighted to join the two of you for breakfast if I may. I simply love becoming better acquainted with my guests. I've had little opportunity to speak with you, Lady Sarah, and although your grandparents were dear friends of mine, Spencer, I'm embarrassed to say that I know next to nothing about you.” She then took a seat across from Sarah and beckoned for a footman to pour her some tea.

Lord Spencer resumed his seat and Sarah took a bite of her toast, pausing only for a moment in stunned surprise as a generous slice of cake topped with a thick layer of whipped cream was placed before Lady Duncaster. The countess must have realized how unusual this seemed, for she did not hesitate in explaining that this was her preferred food in the morning. “If it were up to me, I'd eat nothing else throughout the day, but my physician has cautioned me that it's not the best for my health and that I ought to eat the occasional meat, fruit and vegetable, though the mere thought of doing so makes me shudder. I've agreed to a compromise though, requiring that all such meals are accompanied by jam or preserves—­something with which to sweeten each bite.”

“I can't say I'd enjoy that myself,” Lord Spencer remarked as he carefully cut his bacon to pieces, “but I do admire you for sticking to your preferences.”

“Why? Because of what others might think or say?” Lady Duncaster asked as she scooped up a large spoonful of cake and popped it into her mouth.

Lord Spencer stilled, and Sarah turned toward him, keen to hear his reply.

“Precisely,” he said.

With a low chuckle, Lady Duncaster dabbed her lips with her napkin and took a sip of her tea. “Look at me, my lord. I am dressed no differently than I was forty years ago, though my hair has thinned dramatically since then, which is why I have taken to wearing wigs that were
au courant
before I was even born.”

“You're not fond of the modern ones?” Sarah asked, taking the chance she'd been given to pry a little.

Lady Duncaster snorted. “They're so horribly plain, whereas this one, for instance . . .” Raising her hand, she gave the pile of cigar-­shaped curls on top of her head a little pat. “What can I say? I consider this an intricate work of art. Don't you agree?”

“I suppose so,” Sarah hedged. “Either way, I think it suits you splendidly.”

Lady Duncaster smiled. “I know it's unusual—­that most ­people view me as something of an oddity because of it—­but it's what I like, so I see no reason to change it.”

“Have you always disregarded other ­people's opinions?” Lord Spencer asked.

Lady Duncaster turned her eyes toward the ceiling in contemplation. “No. Not always. There was a time when I adhered to protocol and never veered from what was expected of me. But then one day it occurred to me how miserable I was and how desperately I longed for a bit of excitement in my life.” Lowering her gaze, she looked to Sarah and Lord Spencer in turn. “When Lord Duncaster was alive, God rest his soul, we took great pleasure in traveling together to faraway destinations. In fact, it was a long sea voyage from India to England that initially brought us together.” She sighed deeply as if lost in a distant time, but then she blinked and her gaze sharpened. “Really, if you ever have the opportunity to leave England and see other places, I highly recommend the adventure such a journey offers. Thankfully, my husband and I brought so many wonderful memories of our travels back home with us, which is part of the reason why I could never see myself leaving Thorncliff.

“Here, amidst the many mementos, I can recall with fondness the greatest love of my life—­a man without whom I scarcely know what to do with myself.” Her hazel eyes shimmered a little with momentary bleakness, but then her entire demeanor turned challenging as she raised her chin and said, “What others may think of me is inconsequential—­particularly now that I am in my dotage. Besides, they're certainly willing to forgive my eccentricities in exchange for coming here.”

“Well, I have to say I like you all the better for it,” Lord Spencer told her.

Sarah smiled, as did Lady Duncaster. “There's nothing wrong with having a bit of personality,” the countess added, “though I do believe the
ton
frowns upon those of us who dare to put it on open display. Too bad, I say.” And with that, she raised her teacup in salute.

Half an hour later, the threesome had finished their meal, while the din within the room had risen significantly due to the arrival of many more guests. “If you'll please excuse me,” Lord Spencer said as he, Sarah and Lady Duncaster strode out into the hallway, “there's a matter I'd like to attend to, though I do hope to see you both later.”

“We shall depend upon it. Shall we not, Lady Sarah?” Lady Duncaster asked.

“Indeed we shall,” Sarah agreed, reluctant to let him go, since it brought an end to a pleasant morning and reminded her that she was to spend time with Mr. Denison. Perhaps she could avoid her future husband for just a bit longer?

Hope bloomed as Lady Duncaster took her firmly by the arm and guided her through to the stairs, where Sarah's parents were presently descending along with her sisters and Hester. “We were wondering what happened to you, Sarah,” Lady Andover said with a fleeting glance in her daughter's direction before looking toward Lady Duncaster. “May I compliment you once again on your beautiful home, Lady Duncaster? It is a remarkable work of architecture.”

“Thank you, Lady Andover. You are most kind,” Lady Duncaster said. “I trust you are comfortable in your rooms?”

“Oh, indeed we are,” Lord Andover said. “There is nothing with which we can find the slightest displeasure.”

“I'm happy to hear it,” Lady Duncaster said. “As for your query regarding Lady Sarah—­it appears she and I are both early risers, for which I'm most grateful. She kept me company during breakfast, and in return I have promised her a tour of the gallery.”

“How terribly kind of you,” Lord Andover said while his wife beamed with pleasure. Undoubtedly, they would have been less pleased to discover that Sarah had been sharing Lord Spencer's company. Lord Andover looked at Sarah. “Just don't forget about Mr. Denison. I understand you're supposed to be meeting him in an hour for a tour of the library and that he's also taking you rowing this afternoon? That ought to be fun.”

“I'm sure it will be,” Sarah said tightly. “In fact, I can hardly wait.”

Her father must have registered the sarcasm, judging from his immediate frown. Before he could comment, however, Lady Duncaster said, “Since you have an appointment, Lady Sarah, we'd best be on our way if you're to see the gallery first.” To Sarah's parents she added, “Please excuse us, but we'd hate to leave Mr. Denison waiting. Just go on through to the dining room and you'll find your breakfast there.”

She and Sarah waited until Sarah's family had continued on their way, then they started up the stairs. It wasn't until they reached the landing that Lady Duncaster said, “I know it's none of my affair, Lady Sarah, but I cannot understand why a young woman of noble birth, such as yourself, would pay any attention to a man like Mr. Denison. Forgive me for being outspoken, but I've always had a tendency to attack an issue with directness, so if there's anything you'd like to share—­a burden weighing heavily upon your shoulders—­I will keep your confidence. Have no fear of that.”