Malia Martin (27 page)

“You are beautiful when you smile, Rachel.”

Rachel pursed her mouth and pulled at the hem of her smart spencer jacket. She yanked a chair over to Sara’s bedside and sat without being invited.

“Why did you say my name?” Rachel asked.

Sara hitched in a sharp breath, then let it out slowly. “I was thinking of you.”

“You said that you knew how I felt.” Rachel kept her eyes on her hands as they fiddled with the small straps of her reticule. “Felt about what?” she asked, without looking up.

Sara stared at her silently, then finally asked her own question. “Why did you stay, Rachel?”

She did not need to explain her question further. Rachel clasped her hands tightly together in her lap and looked up at her. “He asked me to.”

Sara nodded, leaning against her pillows.

“And I knew it would hurt you if I stayed.” Rachel again averted her gaze. She stared out the window. “I wanted you to hurt as I did.”

Silence hung over the women after this revelation. Sara finally reached out gently and touched the back of Rachel’s hand. “’Tis over, Rachel. It does not matter.”

Rachel looked over at her quickly. “It is not over.”

Sara pulled her hand back. She was rather sure that Rachel suspected something after witnessing her sickness two days before. She could only hope that the woman would not use it against her somehow. Sara closed her eyes then. Rachel had used anything in her power against Sara, why would she stop now?

“What do you mean?” Sara asked warily.

Rachel met Sara’s gaze head on. “I told you before. I do not want my daughter to hurt as I hurt you.”

Sara smiled sadly at Rachel. “I love Helen, too, Rachel. I do not want her hurt. And I’m not as strong as you are. I am going to leave.”

Rachel blinked, obviously startled. “Where will you go?”

Sara laughed lightly. “I do not know, truly. I just decided a moment ago that I would leave.”

Rachel stood, moving restlessly about the room. “I . . . I have a place, ’Tis a small cottage I inherited from my mother.” She made a small, bitter sound. “My father could not keep it from me, although I know he wished to, as he has disowned me completely.” Rachel shook her head fiercely. “Anyway, it is about a day’s journey east of here, on the coast. A lovely place. You could live there, if you’d like.”

It was the first civil conversation they had ever shared, and Sara actually found herself liking the tall thin woman she had always thought
of as her nemesis. Of course, she realized that it was not a selfless act Rachel did, giving her a place to stay.

Sara sighed. “That sounds nice, actually.”

Rachel nodded, turning away. “There is no one there, but a woman in the village checks on the place for me now and then. I will send her a note, and have her air the place out.” Rachel cleared her throat. “Her name is Mrs. Burnell.” There was a long pause, and then Rachel continued, “She is a midwife.”

“Ah.” Sara smiled at Rachel’s back. “How convenient.”

“Yes.” Rachel went to the door, but didn’t leave. “I . . . thank you, Sara,” she said finally.

“I do it for myself, Rachel, truly. I could not stay here.”

Rachel sighed, leaning her forehead against the door for a moment. “You called me strong. It wasn’t strength that kept me here, Sara, but weakness.
You
are strong.”

“Will you do me a favor, Rachel?”

Rachel looked up at her, blue eyes shuttered. The woman still did not trust her, Sara could see. “Take care of my children.”

Rachel frowned.

“The school, Rachel, will you continue the school for the Rawlston children?”

Rachel blinked. “Me?”

“You will make a wonderful teacher.”

“Well, yes, of course, I will continue the school.” Rachel stood a little straighter.

Sara closed her eyes. “Thank you,” she said. And then when she heard Rachel open the door, she said quickly, “Do not tell him where I have gone, Rachel.”

The woman nodded. “As you wish,” she said, and left.

He had been back three days, and still Sara had not come to see him. He had started out to see her many times, but had turned back, afraid of what she might say. Obviously, she did not want to see him. And he would respect her wishes.

Now he stood at the mill with Lyle and Robert, going over a list of supplies they would need to get the place up and running. He had brought home raw wool as well as sheep so they could start up the mill immediately. Trevor felt his heart beat a little quicker as he and Robbie discussed what they would need. He was excited. He could not remember a time when he had been more excited than now as he watched something he had planned come to life.

“Did you get that, Lyle?” Trevor asked the young man.

Lyle nodded quickly, his sandy hair bobbing, his large brown eyes sparkling. “Aye, I did, Guv.”

Trevor thumped Lyle’s shoulder affectionately. “Have I said thank you today?” he asked.

Lyle just rolled his eyes.

After finally waking up from the delirium of his infection and finding Lyle working diligently to save his life, though the boy had no idea who he was, Trevor told Lyle that he would thank the boy every day of his life.

“I just cannot imagine a better coincidence than the fact that you found me, boy.”

“Well, I must agree with you on that, Guv. You looked like a drowned rat, and that’s the truth. Anyone of lesser intelligence would’ve walked right on by.”

It was Trevor’s turn to roll his eyes. “You speak of my hard head, Lyle. Yours must be the largest head in all of Christendom.”

“‘As to be, Guv, to carry about all my brains.”

Trevor laughed loudly as Robbie guffawed.

“Well, ’tis true!” Lyle defended himself.

“Aye, that it is, boy.” Trevor laughed again. And it was true, too. Lyle Bilworth was the smartest street urchin he’d ever met. The boy had taught himself to read and write and was an absolute whiz at numbers.

“And though your arms aren’t as big as your head, you’re quite a strong little guy, to boot.”

“Little guy?” Lyle scowled.

Trevor turned to Robbie. “He dragged my wet carcass halfway across London looking for a doctor.” Trevor rubbed at his sore shoulder.

Robbie turned a new look of respect on the young man. “Saved our Duke, so you did, boy?”

Lyle shoved the toe of his boot into the dirt. “Let’s not spread that story. I’d like to keep my street-tough mien, if you don’t mind.”

“Mien?” Robbie looked baffled.

Trevor grinned. “Aye, Robbie, my savior is not only angelic, he’s smart, too.”

As Lyle frowned, Trevor told Robbie, “While I was recovering, Lyle used his many connections to find a good breeder of Tee Water sheep. And he found me a quality shipment of raw wool. Yes, it was a jolly good circumstance when Lyle Bilworth pulled me from the Thames.”

Now Lyle snapped closed the ledger he held in his hands. “On to more important things, Guv. We should take a trip into town for these supplies to make sure we get the best prices for everything. Can’t have anyone cheatin’ you.” He narrowed his eyes on Trevor sternly, for he knew the story of Stuart.

“With you yapping at their heels, who would try?” Trevor laughed.

“Yapping?” Lyle frowned.

“Well, then,” Robbie pulled his hat low over his eyes, his grin wide, “I’ll be on my way home, then, yer grace. I’ve got all the men waiting t’ start, though, when we’re ready.”

“Excellent!” Trevor stared out across the rocky valley at the sheep grazing on the other side, as Robbie turned away and started down the hill. “We’ll go to town day after tomorrow, boy.” Trevor patted Lyle on the back.

“Ah, that’s right” The boy leered at him. “You’re getting married tomorrow.”

The sun seemed to have set quickly, for darkness settled suddenly upon the valley. Trevor took in a deep breath. “Yes, tomorrow I am getting married.” He turned away and started down the hill. He did not want to speak of his marriage.

Trevor heard Lyle scrambling over stones to catch up, but he did not slow. He walked purposefully across the grass to where they had tied their horses. He sprang up into the saddle, and only then waited for Lyle.

They rode silently to the Hall, the sky becoming darker and darker until it was full night by the time they got to the stables.

James took their mounts. “Her grace is here to see you,” the groom said, nodding to where Sara’s horse stood in its stall.

Trevor’s heart did a little flip in his chest, and he stumbled with James’s announcement. “Really?” he managed to say nonchalantly. “What a nice surprise.”

James grunted as he walked Lucky away.

Trevor wanted to run to the Hall, but he kept his feet from churning up dust as he left Lyle and James in the stables.

Filbert opened the door for him. The old man flipped a thumb toward the green room. “Her grace is here waitin’ for you. Be nice. She looks as white as my hair used to be, afore it all took
the notion to fall out of my head.” Filbert hobbled away.

Trevor took a deep breath, standing with his hand on the knob of the door for a moment, before he turned it and entered the room.

Sara stood quickly. She looked much smaller than he remembered, her gown hanging loosely about her. But her smile was just as bright, in fact brighter than he remembered.

Trevor strode forward quickly and took her hands in his before she could pull away. “I missed you, Sara.”

She scowled. “And you should, staying away that long! If I didn’t trust you like I do, your grace, I would have been combing the city looking for you weeks ago.”

Trevor chuckled, loving the feel of her slim, cool hands in his. “Sorry, I had a bit of an accident.”

“Accident?” she asked seriously, her large dark eyes roaming over him. “What happened?”

“I’m fine now.” He shrugged and let go of her hands reluctantly. “But I did not recover my money. And Stuart is still on his way to the easy life in the West Indies.”

“I’m sorry, Trevor.”

He smiled. “’Tis nothing. It pains me a bit to know the man profited because of my stupidity.” He held up a hand when she began to protest. “No, no, I did a stupid thing, trusting Stuart.”

“And not listening to me,” she laughed.

“Ah, yes, another lesson learned. I shall always read all my mail from this moment forward.”

Sara smiled, her full lips making his own mouth go dry. “And I hear you have brought with you a very interesting steward so that Mr. Goldblume can focus his talents on his own business once more.”

“Yes—Lyle. Interesting, all right. A young scalawag I found running about London with the mind of an Oxford scholar.”

“And you trust him?”

“With my life.”

“I am glad, Trevor.”

Trevor had never seen a sadder smile. He moved forward, wanting to take Sara in his arms and kiss her smile into a real one, but she moved back as if she could read his intentions in his eyes.

“I am leaving, Trevor.”

“No, Sara, please. Have dinner with me tonight.”

Sara laughed sadly. “No, I mean that I am leaving Rawlston.”

“You are leaving Rawlston? For good?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Tonight, Trevor. I am leaving tonight.”

“Why, Sara?” He knew, of course. God, how he knew. Trevor turned away from her, pacing
toward the great fireplace, then turning on his heel to face her again.

“I will be lost without you.”

“No, you will be better. I will be better.” Sara sighed, slumping down onto a dark green settee. Trevor realized suddenly that she was terribly wan. She looked weak, in fact.

“Are you ill?” he asked, coming close once more. Trevor crouched in front of her and curled his hand around her slim wrist. It was much thinner than he remembered.

She pulled away from him, curling her fingers together in her lap and staring down at them. “I’m not ill. But I’m not as strong as I thought I was, either.” She sighed and glanced up at him. “I cannot live here, Trevor, so close to you. I am going to leave. I think it is best.”

“But where will you go?”

She smiled at that. “A . . . a friend has offered a place for me.”

Trevor blinked. “A friend?” He swallowed and stood suddenly, his heart thudding against his chest.

“Yes,” Sara said from behind him. “She inherited a small cottage from her mother and has offered its use to me.”

Trevor let out a small sigh. It was so bad of him, really, to be happy that Sara did not have some male friend with whom she was going to live.

She was still young. She was still very beautiful. Trevor walked slowly over to a chair,
curled his hand into a fist, and punched the padded back. It did not hurt at all, and he wished it had. “I do not want to be here without you, Sara.”

“You must. It will be better this way.”

He heard the swish of her skirts and turned quickly. “Don’t leave. Stay with me tonight.”

Sara shook her head. “If I did, I don’t think I would find the strength to leave.”

He wanted, then, to insist she stay. But he had learned much of duty in the last couple months. And most of it from the woman who stood before him. Trevor stood straighter, wanting to show her that he
had
learned. And that she could be proud of him.

“Be a good husband, Trevor,” Sara pleaded. “Love her. Don’t make her feel less than she is because you cannot love her.”

It raked at his heart to know that she spoke from experience. If only he could have found her long ago, before John . . .

They stared at each other for a moment of complete silence. Then she turned and left without saying anything more. And Trevor let her go-

H
is wedding day dawned brightly with the song of birds in the air and the promise of sim. Trevor dragged himself from bed and forced himself to allow Grady to dress him. He hoped it would get easier. He hoped that he could banish the small, dark part of his heart that hated Helen with a passion.

He must love her, for Sara’s sake. Trevor laughed at this thought. What irony he lived.

The house was abuzz with preparations for the event that would take place that evening. They were to marry in the garden, and all of Rawlston was invited. It was a great day for them, after all. The day the Duke of Rawlston finally broke the curse. The first day of the beginning of prosperity.