The Gift (3 page)

"A misunderstanding?" Nathan sounded incredulous. "I sent the note on a Thursday, and I was damn specific, Colin."

"I know," Colin said. "You told them you were going to collect your bride the following Monday."

"You thought I should have given her more time to pack her belongings."

Colin grinned. "I did, didn't I? In defense of my gentlemanly behavior, I must say I never imagined she'd run away. She was quick, too, wasn't she?"

"Yes, she was," Nathan replied, a hint of a smile in his voice.

"You could have gone after her."

"Why? My men followed her. I knew where she was. I just decided to leave her alone a little longer."

"A stay of execution, perchance?"

Nathan did laugh then. "She's only a woman, Colin, but yes, I do suppose it was a reprieve of sorts."

"There was more to it than that, though, wasn't there? You knew she would be in danger as soon as you claimed her. You won't admit it, Nathan, but in your own way you've been protecting Sara by leaving her alone. I'm right, aren't I?"

"You just said I wouldn't admit it," he countered. "Why bother to ask?"

"God help the two of you. The next year is going to be hell. You'll both have the world trying to do you in."

Nathan shrugged. "I'll protect her."

"I don't doubt that."

Nathan shook his head. "The daft woman actually booked passage on one of our own ships to run away from me. That still chafes. A bit of an irony, wouldn't you say?"

"Not really," Colin answered. "She couldn't have known you owned the ship. You did insist upon remaining a silent partner in the company, remember?"

"We wouldn't have any clients otherwise. You know damn well the St. James men aren't liked by the members of the ton. They're still a little rough around the cuffs." His grin told his friend he found that trait appealing.

"It's still odd to me," Colin announced, switching the topic. "You had your men follow Lady Sara—watch out for her, too—yet you never bothered to ask any of them to tell you what she looked like."

"You didn't ask any of them either," Nathan countered.

Colin shrugged. He returned his attention to the crowd below. "I suppose I thought you'd decide the contract wasn't worth the sacrifice. After all, she…" He completely lost his train of thought when he spotted his sister strolling toward them. Another woman walked by her side. "There's Becca," he said. "If the silly chit would just move a little to the left…" That remark went unfinished. Colin's indrawn breath filled the air. "Sweet Jesus… could that be Lady Sara?"

Nathan didn't answer him. In truth, he doubted he was capable of speech right then. His mind was fully consumed taking in the vision before him.

She was enchanting. Nathan had to shake his head. No, he told himself, she couldn't possibly be his bride. The gentle lady smiling so shyly at Rebecca was simply too beautiful, too feminine, and too damn thin to belong to the Winchester clan.

And yet there was a hint of a resemblance, a nagging reminder of the impossible four-year-old he'd held in his arms, something indefinable that told him she really was his Lady Sara.

Gone was the wild mop of honey-colored curls. Her hair was shoulder-length, still given to curl, but as dark as chestnuts. Her complexion looked pure to him from the distance separating them, and he wondered if she still had the sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of her nose.

She'd grown to only average height, judging by the fact that she was eye level with Colin's younger sister. There certainly wasn't anything average about her figure, however. She was rounded in all the right places.

"Look at all the young bucks moving in," Colin announced. "They're like sharks circling their prey. Your wife seems to be their target, Nathan," he added. "Hell, you'd think they would have the decency to leave a married woman alone. Still, I suppose I can't really fault them. My God, Nathan, she's magnificent."

Nathan was fully occupied watching the eager men chase after his bride. He had an almost overwhelming urge to beat the foppish grins off their faces. How dare they try to touch what belonged to him?

He shook his head over his illogical reaction to his bride.

"Here comes your charming father-in-law," Colin said. "God, I didn't realize how bowlegged he is. Look how he shadows her," he continued. "He isn't about to let his prize out of his sight."

Nathan took a deep breath. "Let's ride, Colin. I've seen enough."

Not a hint of emotion was in his voice. Colin turned to look at him. "Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Damn it, Nathan, tell me what you think."

"About what?"

"Lady Sara," Colin persisted. "What do you think of her?"

"The truth, Colin?"

His friend gave a quick nod.

Nathan's smile was slow, easy. "She'll fit through the window."

Sara was going to have to leave England. Everyone would probably think she'd run away again. They'd begin to call her coward, she supposed, and although that slander would sting, she was still determined to go through with her plans. Sara simply didn't have any other choice. She'd already sent two letters to the marquess of St. James requesting his assistance, but the man to whom she was legally wed hadn't bothered to respond. She didn't dare try to contact him again. There simply wasn't enough time left. Aunt Nora's future was at stake, and Sara was the only one who could—or, more specifically, who would—save her.

If the members of the ton believed she was running away from the marriage contract, so be it.

Nothing ever turned out the way Sara imagined it would. When her mother had asked her to go to Nora's island the previous spring to make certain she was all right Sara had immediately agreed. Her mother hadn't received a letter from her sister in over four months, and fear about her health was beginning to make Sara's mother ill. In truth,

Sara was just as concerned about her mother's health as she was about her aunt's. Something had to be amiss. It simply wasn't like her aunt to forget to write. No, the monthly packet of letters had always been as dependable as the inevitable rain on the annual Winchester picnics.

Sara and her mother agreed that neither one of them would confide the real reason behind her sudden departure. They settled on the lie that Sara was simply going to visit her older sister Lillian, who lived in the colonies of America with her husband and infant son.

Sara had considered telling her father the truth, then discarded the notion. Even though he was certainly the most reasonable of the brothers, he was still a Winchester through and through. He didn't like Nora any better than his brothers did, though for his wife's sake he wasn't as vocal in his opinions.

The Winchester men had turned their backs on Nora when she disgraced them by marrying beneath her station. The marriage to her groom had taken place fourteen years earlier, but the Winchesters weren't a forgiving lot. They put great store in the expression "an eye for an eye." Revenge was as sacred to them as the commandments were to most of the bishops, even when the infraction was as slight as a brief month of public embarrassment. Not only would they never forget their humiliation, they would also never, ever forgive.

Sara should have realized that fact sooner. She never would have allowed Nora to come home for a visit otherwise. Heaven help her, she'd actually believed that time had softened her uncles' attitude. The sad truth was quite the opposite. There wasn't a happy reunion allowed between the sisters. Sara's mother didn't even get to speak to Nora. As to that, no one did, for Nora had simply vanished a scant hour after she and Sara had left the ship.

Sara was nearly out of her mind with worry. The time had finally come to put her plan into action, and her nerves were at the screaming point. Her fear had become an almost tangible thing, tearing at her determination. She was accustomed to letting other people take care of her, but the shoe was on the other foot, as Nora liked to say, and Sara needed to be the one in charge. She prayed to God she was up to the challenge. Nora's life depended upon her success.

The horrendous pretense Sara had had to endure the past two weeks had become a nightmare. Each time she heard the door chime sound she was certain the authorities had come to tell her Nora's body had been found. Finally, when she thought she couldn't stand the worry another minute, her faithful servant Nicholas had found out where her uncles had hidden Aunt Nora. The gentle woman had been closeted away in the attic of her Uncle Henry's townhouse until all the arrangements could be made with the court for guardianship. Then she was going to be spirited away to the nearest asylum, with her fat inheritance divided between the other men in the family.

"The bloody leeches," Sara muttered to herself. Her hand shook when she clipped the latch shut on her satchel. She told herself it was anger and certainly not fear that made her tremble so. Every time she thought about the terror her aunt must be going through she became infuriated all over again.

She took a deep, calming breath as she carried her satchel over to the open window. She tossed the garment bag down to the ground. "That's the last of it, Nicholas. Hurry now before the family returns. Godspeed, friend."

The servant collected the last bag and rushed toward the waiting hack. Sara closed the window, doused the candle, and climbed into bed.

It was almost the midnight hour when her parents and her sister Belinda returned from their outing. When Sara heard the footsteps in the hallway she rolled onto her stomach, closed her eyes, and feigned sleep. A moment later she heard the squeak of the door as it was opened and knew her father was looking in to see that his daughter was where she was supposed to be. It seemed to Sara an eternity passed before the door was pulled shut again.

Sara waited another twenty minutes or so to let the household settle down for the night. Then she slipped out from under the covers and collected her belongings from where she'd hidden them under the bed. She needed to be inconspicuous on her journey. Since she didn't own anything black, she wore her old dark blue walking dress. The neckline was a little too revealing, but she didn't have time to worry about that problem. Besides, her cloak would conceal that flaw. She was too nervous to braid her hair and had to settle on tying it behind her neck with a ribbon so it would stay out of her way.

After she'd placed the letter she'd written to her mother on the dressing table she wrapped her parasol, white gloves, and reticule in her cloak. She tossed those possessions out the window, then climbed out on the ledge.

The branch she wanted to grasp was just two feet away but a good three to four feet below her. Sara said a quick prayer she'd make it as she wiggled closer to the edge. She sat there a long while until she could summon up enough courage to jump. Then, with a whimper of fear she couldn't contain, she pushed herself off the ledge.

Nathan couldn't believe what he was seeing. He was just about to climb up the giant tree when the window opened and various articles belonging to a woman came flying down. The parasol hit him on his shoulder. He dodged the other items and moved deeper into the shadows. The moon gave him sufficient light to see Sara when she climbed out on the ledge. He was about to shout a warning, certain she was going to break her neck, when she suddenly jumped. He raced forward to catch her.

Sara caught hold of a fat branch and held on for dear life. She said another prayer to keep herself from crying out. Then she waited until she quit swinging back and forth so violently and slowly wiggled her way toward the trunk.

"Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God." She whispered that litany all the way down the tree. Her dress got tangled up in another branch, and by the time her feet finally touched the ground the hem of her gown had worked its way up and over her head.

Sara righted her dress and let out a long, ragged sigh. "There now," she whispered. "That wasn't so horrible after all."

Lord, she thought, she was starting to lie to herself. She knelt down on the ground, gathered up her possessions, mumbling all the while, and wasted precious minutes putting on her white gloves. Dusting her cloak off took a bit longer. After she'd adjusted the garment around her shoulders she untwisted the strings of her reticule, slipped the satin cords around her wrist, tucked the parasol under her arm, and finally walked toward the front of the house.

She stopped quite suddenly, certain she heard a sound behind her. Yet when she whirled around she didn't see anything but trees and shadows. Her imagination was getting the better of her, she decided. It was probably just her own heartbeat making all the ruckus in her ears.

"Where is Nicholas?" she muttered to herself a short time later. The servant was supposed to be waiting for her in the shadows next to the front stoop. Nicholas had promised to escort her to her Uncle Henry Winchester's townhouse. Something must have happened to waylay him, she decided.

Another ten minutes passed before Sara accepted the fact that Nicholas wasn't going to return to fetch her. She didn't dare wait any longer. There was too much risk of being found out. Since her return to London two weeks before her father had taken to the habit of looking in on her during the night. There would be hell to pay when he realized she'd run away again. Sara shivered just thinking about the consequences.

She was completely on her own. That admission made her heartbeat go wild again. She straightened her shoulders and then started walking toward her destination.

Uncle Henry's townhouse was just three short blocks away. It shouldn't take her any time at all to walk over there. Besides, it was the middle of the night, and surely the streets would be deserted. Villains needed their rest, too, didn't they? Lord, she certainly hoped so. She would fare all right, she told herself as she hurried down the street. If anyone tried to waylay her, she'd use her parasol as a weapon to defend herself. She was determined to go to any length to save her Aunt Nora from having to spend one more night under her uncle's sadistic supervision.

Sara ran like lightning the first full block. A stitch in her side forced her to slow down to a more sedate pace. She relaxed a little when she realized she was actually quite safe. There didn't seem to be anyone else on the streets that night. Sara smiled over that blessing.

Nathan followed behind. He wanted to appease his curiosity before he grabbed his bride, tossed her over his shoulder, and headed for the wharf. In the back of his mind was the irritating thought that she might be trying to run away from him again. He discarded that notion as foolish, for she couldn't possibly know about his plans to kidnap her.

Where was she going? He mulled that question over in his mind while he continued to trail her.

She did have gumption, though. He found that revelation astonishing, since she was a Winchester. Yet she'd already shown him a glimpse of real courage. He'd heard her cry out in obvious fear when she'd thrown herself off that ledge. The woman had gotten herself caught up in the branches, too, then prayed her way down to the ground in a low, fervent voice that had made him smile. He'd gotten a healthy view of her long, shapely legs while she was in such an unseemly position and had to restrain himself from laughing out loud.

It soon became evident to him that she was still blissfully oblivious to his presence. Nathan couldn't believe her naivete. If she'd only bothered to look behind her, she certainly would have seen him.

She never bothered to look back. His bride rounded the first corner, passed a dark alley at a brisker pace, then slowed down again.

She hadn't gone unnoticed. Two burly men, their weapons at the ready, slithered out of their makeshift home like snakes. Nathan was right behind them. He made certain they heard his approach, then waited until they were turning around to confront him before he slammed their heads together.

Nathan tossed the garbage back into the alley, his gaze directed on Sara all the while. The way his bride strolled down the street should be outlawed, he thought to himself. The sway of her hips was too damn enticing. Just then he saw another movement in the shadows ahead. He rushed forward to save Sara once again. She'd just turned the second corner when his fist slammed into her would-be attacker's jaw.

He had to intervene on her behalf yet again before she finally reached her destination. He assumed she was going to call on her Uncle Henry Winchester when she paused on the bottom step of his residence and stared up at the dark windows a long while.

Of all her relatives, Nathan thought Henry was the most disreputable, and he couldn't come up with a single logical reason why Sara would want to call on the spineless bastard in the middle of the night.

She wasn't there for a visit. Nathan came to that conclusion when she crept around to the side of the townhouse. He followed her, then lounged against the side gate to keep other intruders out. He folded his arms across his chest and relaxed his stance while he watched her fight her way through the shrubs and breach the house through the window.

It was the most inept burglary he'd ever witnessed.

She spent at least ten minutes working the window all the way up. That simple accomplishment was a short victory, though. She was just about to hoist herself up onto the ledge when she tore the hem of her gown. Nathan heard her cry of distress, then watched her turn and give full attention to her gown. The window slid back down while Sara lamented over the damage.

If she had a needle and thread handy, he thought she might very well sit down next to the shrubs and repair the dress.

She finally turned back to her purpose, though. She thought she was being quite clever when she used her parasol to prop the window open. She adjusted the strings of her reticule around her wrist before she jumped up to grab hold of the ledge. It took her three tries before she made it. Getting in through a window proved to be far more difficult than getting out through one. She fairly knocked the wind out of herself before she finally made it. She wasn't at all graceful, either. When Nathan heard the loud thud he decided his bride had landed on either her head or her backside. He waited only a minute or two before he silently climbed in after her.

He adjusted to the darkness quickly. Sara didn't make the adjustment quite as swiftly, however. Nathan heard a loud crash that sounded like glass hitting stone, followed by an unladylike expletive.