The Governess Club: Sara (28 page)

Sara blinked her wide gray eyes at him. “I suppose I am.”

Nathan couldn’t help it; a small spark of hope lit in his chest. He could use this and turn it to his advantage. He could manipulate this situation and come out married to her. She may hate him for it, but he could live with that. As her husband, he could wear her down eventually.

“I will do it on one condition,” he declared.

“You and your rules.” She smiled at him. Was he mistaken or was there some tenderness in that smile?

“Do you want to hear it or not?”

“Please.”

“We must marry.” He watched her face go still. “Not now, not even here. But when we get to Scotland, we will marry. I will only ruin you so much.”

Sara looked up at her driver, who was sitting shock still, pretending to not exist. She dropped her eyes and studied the ground for several long moments. Not quite the response a man wanted when proposing to the woman he loved. He lifted his chin, preparing himself for the anticipated rejection.

She looked at him again. “I was not expecting this.” How could she, after repeated rejection from him? But it did not stop her heart from soaring.

He firmed his lips. “Nonetheless, I must insist upon it.”

“You must realize though,” she said, a smile opening over her lips again, “that you are asking me to elope with you.”

He gritted his teeth to keep his heart from leaping out of his throat and into her hands. “I suppose I am.”

“And yet just a few days ago you were adamant about not marrying me. What has changed?”

I stopped being a fool.
“Does it matter?”

“It does to me. After all, love is supposed to be one, if not the most important, guiding reasons for making a union.”

“Are you looking for a declaration?”

“More like an explanation.”

Nathan feigned an impatient sigh. “Very well. You seem hell bent on ruining yourself under the misguided notion of being an adventurer.”

Sara laughed at him. “You seek to protect me from myself?”

“If that is the way you wish to view it, yes.”

Another mischievous grin crossed her face. “But if we were to marry, who would protect you from me?”

Nathan stared at her, nearly overcome with lust for this new woman before him. Four weeks ago she would not have considered speaking to him thus. Knowledge that this was the woman he loved thudded through his veins, anchoring his love on a deep level even he hadn’t expected existed within him.

Please God, let her say yes.

The mischievous grin remained as she climbed out of the carriage, her gaze never leaving him. He stared as she sauntered toward him, her hips swinging in a slow seduction and breasts ripe in her wedding dress. His throat dry, he forgot to be polite and dismount until she was so close he could feel her breath on his knee.

“You see,” she murmured, her eyelids half lowered as her gaze traveled down his body and settled on his groin. That appendage leapt in excited anticipation, hurting against the leather saddle. “If we were to marry, you might find me difficult to control. Difficult to . . . appease.” The last word was a whisper as she licked her lips, her eyes meeting his gaze.

Nathan couldn’t even swallow.

“So,” she continued, her voice husky, “are you certain you wish to marry me?” Her hand cupped his calf and stroked it slowly, up and down. Her touch seared through his breeches.

He nodded mutely.

“Why?”

“I love you,” he blurted. He couldn’t keep it in anymore, and once it was out there, he no longer cared that she knew.

Sara’s hand stilled on his calf and her gray eyes widened. Her old self appeared momentarily, uncertainty in her eyes, but it was washed away by the illuminating smile that took its place. “You really must learn to be more romantic, Nathan. You should have started with that statement, rather than leave me in doubt of your affections.”

He shook his head. “I will never be romantic.”

“I think there is hope yet.”

“So you will marry me?”

“Yes. When we get to Scotland, we will marry. It will be a grand adventure, eloping to Gretna Green.”

“The grandest,” he agreed. “Excuse me while I dismount.”

Sara stepped to a safe distance to allow him to do so, and a thrill pulsed through her when he approached her with a determined look on his face. She knew without a doubt what he intended and she opened her arms to him, uncaring of who saw them embracing in a public lane. Or was it a private one? Why was she bothering with such a detail when his lips were descending to hers?

She closed her eyes and lifted on her toes, meeting his mouth halfway. They seared each other with their passion, their mouths melding together and tongues dancing. Rightness sang over her nerves and senses; this was where she belonged, in his arms.

Nathan pulled away abruptly, ignoring her sound of protest. Looking at her suspiciously, he asked, “Do you truly wish to marry me or is it the adventure of the elopement that is appealing?”

She shook her head. “Foolish man. I would have married you without Scotland. All you had to do was ask. I’ve been in love with you now for ages.”

A grin burst onto his face. “Of course you have. I am easy to love.”

Sara burst out laughing. “That you are not, sir. But you are most certainly worth the effort.”

“Oh, my Nymph,” Nathan said, lowering his mouth to hers again in another searing kiss. They broke apart when the coachman gave a not-so-little cough.

“My trunks are already packed,” Sara said breathlessly, her eyes riveted on his lips. “I can leave immediately.”

“I have yet to pack,” he replied, his hand running through her hair. “I hadn’t planned beyond arriving at the church to stop your wedding.”

“You were coming for me?” Her voice wavered with hope and love.

Nathan nodded. “I couldn’t stay away. I tried to, but there was no chance on earth I could let you marry another.”

“Well, you would have been too late!” she said, hands on her hips. “If I hadn’t left, I would be Mrs. Charles Pomeroy now, you horrid man.”

He grabbed her hand and kissed the palm. “But you are not. You are mine. And I would have gone to Scotland without marrying you.”

Her gray eyes deepened with desire and her mouth parted slightly. “Shall I help you pack?” she whispered.

Nathan smiled and shook his head. “We won’t pack. Not right away.”

Sara smiled back. “I know.”

He led her back to the carriage, her hand firmly in his. Knowing that he would forever be able to hold her hand and never let her go sent shots of joy through his being. He felt lighter than he could ever remember being.

She tugged him to a stop. “There is something I always wished to do.”

“What is it?”

“Race down the lane!” She dropped his hand and took off at a face pace, holding her skirts up to her knees so she wouldn’t trip. Her legs moved furiously, kicking up small clouds of dust behind her.

She looked back over her shoulder at him, a large grin on her face and her laughter carried on the breeze. Nathan grinned back, unsure if she was able to see it. His leg would crucify him tomorrow, but it would be worth it. Especially if a luscious redhead was there to help him with hot compresses and massages.

He tied his horse to the back of the carriage, giving it an affectionate pat on the rump. With a nod to Rogers, who was wearing a knowing grin, Nathan took a deep breath and ran after his woman.

S
ara gripped Nathan’s hand tightly as they entered Ridgestone. They had come for her trunks, his already latched to his traveling coach. She refused to sneak in like a thief through the servants’ entrance, knowing that it would hurt her friends even more than her disappearance if they found out.

But it didn’t make it easier to face them.

Greaves was at the door, watching their approach. She gave him a small smile. “Good afternoon, Greaves.”

“Miss Collins,” he intoned with a bow. If he had any opinion on her aborted wedding or the man standing next to her, he did not let it show.

“Are they all here?” she asked, trying to keep the trepidation from her voice. Fear would not do, not with her new life.

“Mr. and Mrs. Knightly are in the drawing room along with Sir Stephen and Lady Montgomery.”

“Thank you.”

Nathan squeezed her hand but didn’t release it as they walked up the stairs and down the hall. The carpet muffled the sound of his cane; she wouldn’t have been able to hear it over the pounding of her heart anyway. She paused at the door, staring at the dark wood of the door before looking at him. When he gave her an encouraging nod, she pushed open the door and stepped in.

“. . . find her before night falls.”

Claire was sitting next to her husband, their hands clasped together tightly. Bonnie was pacing in front of the cold hearth, her swollen stomach leading the rest of her body, clearly agitated. Sir Stephen was standing nearby, his face filled with concern as he watched his wife closely.

Bonnie continued speaking. “Stephen, you must question the servants to see if any of them know something. The servants always know something.”

“I don’t understand what happened.” Claire shook her head, disbelief tingeing her voice. “Where could she have gone? It’s been hours.”

Jacob patted her hand. “Sara is not prone to fits of foolishness. I am sure she is fine.”

Sara cleared her throat. “Hello,” she offered to the room along with a tentative smile. She was gripping Nathan’s hand so hard hers hurt. Her new personality did not extend to every part of her life just yet.

Silence cannoned in to the room, four pairs of eyes turning toward her. She felt her smile waver, acutely aware of the man holding her hand while she was still wearing her wedding dress. Or rather, wearing it again. There had been no hesitation in Nathan’s actions when he had stripped her two hours earlier.

Claire was the first one to move. She stood and moved toward Sara, hands outstretched. Sara automatically released Nathan’s and took her friend’s. Claire squeezed them before pulling her into a tight embrace. Warmth and comfort flowed from her, cloaking Sara and she closed her eyes in relief.

“We were so worried,” Claire whispered in her ear. “I am so glad you are safe.”

“I didn’t mean to cause any concern,” she replied, pulling away to see Bonnie now standing nearby, waiting for her turn. After sharing another embrace, she looked at her two friends. “You are not angry with me for what happened at the church?”

“That depends,” Jacob broke in. The three ladies looked at him, his feet spread apart and arms crossed where he stood. Stephen was nearby, not quite so unwelcoming but distrust still emanated from him. Both of them were looking at Nathan. “What does he have to do with where you have been?” Jacob asked.

Sara felt Nathan draw himself up. “I’m not one to kiss and tell,” he drawled.

Jacob’s brow lowered and he advanced toward the group, his intention clear. Claire stepped between them, hands out to stop him and Sara moved closer to Nathan, her hand wrapping around his arm. It was tense beneath her touch and she feared a fight would break out.

“We’re going to Scotland,” she blurted out.

All eyes swiveled to her again, three pairs in disbelief and one darkening in his glower. Jacob moved to advance again, but Claire remained firm.

“When did that happen?” Bonnie asked, her tone incredulous.

“Bonnie lass,” Stephen began.

“Sir Stephen is from Scotland,” Sara said to Nathan, her voice growing hysterical even to her. “He can advise us on where to go.”

“We are engaged,” Nathan announced to the room. He took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. “This is not some illicit elopement, but we feel we cannot remain in the area at present, not with what happened earlier.”

“You both were conveniently traveling at the same time,” Jacob accused, the scowl still on his face. “I’d wager every last farthing we have that they were together.”

“Do you have any proof beyond that? If so, I would be happy to address it.” Nathan met Jacob’s glower steadily.

“I still don’t understand,” Bonnie said. “I’ve never even met or heard of you and now Sara wants to elope with you?”

“Oh, the marriage is not the purpose for the trip,” Nathan said. “It will just be convenient at the time. We have both stated that we would be together even without the blessing of the church. And Nathan Grant, at your service.” He sketched a small bow.

“Nathan, you are not helping,” Sara said softly, her eyes wary on Jacob.

“Sara, have you even thought this through?” Bonnie asked. “Scotland? With a stranger?”

“He’s not a stranger, not to me.”

Bonnie continued over her. “That may be all well and good for the nonce, but what about an actual future? What happens after the wedding takes place? What are your plans?”

“I have an estate, Cloverfields, in addition to Windent Hall,” Nathan informed her. “We will make our home at one of them.”

“You are a gentleman farmer?” Bonnie asked, an interrogatory gleam in her eyes.

Jacob snorted. “Gentleman farmer my ass.” He raised his hands at Claire’s admonishing look.

Nathan ignored him. “I will become one. For Sara’s sake.”

Bonnie turned her interrogation to her friend. “And you, Sara? Will you continue teaching with the Club?”

“Um,” she glanced at Nathan. “If that is what—” She cut off her sentence when he squeezed her hand. Taking courage in his support, she revised her statement. “No. I do not wish to teach any longer. Even if I weren’t marrying Nathan, I have no wish to teach, for I detest it.”

Claire and Bonnie blinked at her. “You do?” Claire said. “You never said anything.”

“Instead I will do what I am best at—helping the poor and needy. I may not be a vicar’s wife, but that does not mean I cannot lend aid where I am able.” A rush of pleasure ran through her body at voicing that to her friends.

“If that is what you wish,” Claire said, hesitation in her voice.

“You cannot remain here then,” Jacob broke in, his voice hot. All looked at him in surprise at his tone. He pointed an accusing finger at Nathan. “Did you consider that? You have ruined her reputation; even marrying her will likely not repair the damage. If she remains here in Taft, she will be ostracized, unable to do what she desires, her help thrown back in her face. You are taking her from her friends, her
family
, all because you couldn’t keep your bloody pri—”