‘Your brother is pretending not to limp, although I suspect Phyllida has kicked the other leg, so it is more of a pained hobble. And my ribs are merely bruised. It doesn’t hurt at all unless I laugh.’
‘I will promise not to say anything amusing.’ They moved until they were shielded by the partly open door and Sara slipped her hand between his coat and waistcoat to cup it around his ribs. ‘I really do not blame Phyllida.’
‘But you forgive me?’ He was smiling down at her and under her hand his body was warm and solid.
‘I might as well forgive you for being male,’ Sara said and leaned in until she could rest her forehead against his lapel.
‘I cannot do much about that state of affairs, whether you forgive me for it or not—and if I wasn’t male I wouldn’t find you half as beautiful when I looked at you. Tonight you are exquisite, a creature of fairyland, Sara.’
She looked up as he bent his head to kiss her and his breath feathered over her lips, blurring her mind and her fears.
‘Stop it, the pair of you.’ Ashe was resting one hand on the edge of the door, a screen between them and the room. ‘If the old biddies see you before the announcement they will very correctly conclude that this is not a well-regulated, carefully contrived dynastic marriage and that the two of you actually care for each other. Bad enough Phyllida and me making a love match, but both of us being so unsophisticated? Shocking.’
He glanced back over his shoulder as Lucian gave a snort of laughter that ended in a sharp intake of breath. Sara drew in her breath sharply. A love match? But Lucian had not seemed to notice the implications of what Ashe had just said. ‘Everyone’s down now and Father is about to make the announcement. You had both better make your way to his side and look suitably bashful.’
Surprisingly, given that she had been married before and was both older and more experienced than the last time this had happened, Sara found that she did, indeed, feel bashful. It was probably the fact that she and Lucian had anticipated their vows.
Her father did a very good imitation of a proud parent. Perhaps now he knew Lucian did intend to marry her he was genuinely content with the match. His speech was short, warm, and had several of the ladies sniffing into their lace handkerchiefs.
Lucian responded with a few dignified words about how fortunate he was to have secured such a beautiful and intelligent bride and kissed his future mother-in-law and then Sara—both chastely on the cheek. Everyone applauded warmly and then clustered round to congratulate Lucian and kiss Sara.
The hubbub had almost died down when Marguerite appeared at Lucian’s side, her hand on Gregory’s arm. ‘Lucian, we must speak to you.’
‘You must?’ He gave her a quizzical look.
‘I must, my lord.’ Farnsworth’s scarred face was pink with embarrassment, but he kept his head up and looked Lucian squarely in the eye.
Lucian looked from one to the other, then turned to Sara. ‘If you’ll excuse me for a moment, my dear.’
She watched him lead the two lovers out of the drawing room and was immediately in the midst of a buzz of speculation as all the ladies began to wonder out loud just what was going on.
‘I suspect we have another romance here tonight,’ she said with a smile. ‘Lady Marguerite has been spending much time assisting Mr Farnsworth. I did think that I detected a growing attachment and I believe they have just realised that they have fallen in love. He is such a worthy, intelligent and diligent young man, the son of a clergyman, I understand. Lord Cannock believes he will go far.’
‘She is very young, is she not?’ Lady Fitzhugh queried. ‘And it is a somewhat unequal match.’
‘One such as I made and I was very happy indeed, for the short while it lasted.’
That gave all the ladies pause. Sara could see their minds working—she was a marquess’s daughter, she had married a commoner and a scholar, but she had remained a lady. Perhaps it was not so shocking after all...
Lucian came back, spoke with her father and then raised his voice for attention. ‘My friends, this is an evening for good news. I am delighted to say that my sister Marguerite is now betrothed to Mr Gregory Farnsworth.’
Gregory was white with nerves, Marguerite was pink with happiness and Lucian was smiling with what looked like genuine pleasure, but was probably simply relief that they had pulled off the deception. Sara found she was dabbing sentimental tears from her eyes with her handkerchief without even realising that she had taken it out of her reticule.
When Lucian returned to her side he took her hand and squeezed it. ‘Thank you, Sara. If it had not been for you this would never have ended well.’
‘Anyone would have wanted to help them, despite their errors and adventures, and I am very fond of Marguerite. Lucian, we are going to have to plan wedding dates.’
‘I know.’ He looked faintly harassed, which Sara found rather endearing. Lucian was not a man given to being harassed, she suspected. He would make up his mind about something and then ensure it happened. ‘You and I must marry first and as soon as possible, then we can establish ourselves in the London house and Marguerite can be married from there.’ He looked down at her. ‘Is that rushing you? I do not want you to feel our marriage is simply a convenience for establishing Marguerite and I confess I have no idea how long you would want to plan everything.’
‘I need to go down to Sandbay to close down Aphrodite’s Seashell.’ Lucian managed to cover his relief about that really quite well, she thought. ‘There is a lady in the town who comes to our group and who I think might well like to buy me out, but I must speak to her and of course pay Dot and make certain that she does not suffer for this. If you came with me we could make our plans at the same time.’ She watched him think that through. ‘Marguerite could stay here with Mama as chaperon, I am sure she would love to have her stay on.’
‘And I could send Farnsworth to open up the London house and you and I—’
‘—would be alone again.’
‘A pre-emptive honeymoon?’ Lucian suggested, his voice suddenly husky.
‘Is that very wicked of me?’
‘Oh, I hope so, my Aphrodite. I do hope so.’
‘Chaises and postilions are fast compared to carriages with a driver, but they have one major disadvantage.’ Lucian observed as they rolled away from Eldonstone three days later.
‘The springing? It is very bouncy, but neither of us gets travelsick, it seems.’ Sara stretched out her toes and wriggled back into the soft upholstery. Much as she loved her family it was a relief to be away from the house party and the guests’ constant curiosity and probing.
‘There is too much glass,’ Lucian said darkly, gesturing towards the window at the front that allowed them to look out over the horses and postilions. ‘How can I make love to you? It would be like being in a conservatory.’
Sara stamped firmly on erotic thoughts about making love in a moving carriage and tried to be practical. ‘We can make it in the day, can’t we? The weather is dry, the roads are turnpiked almost all the way. If we pick up food to eat as we go and stop only for changes it would take us twelve or thirteen hours.’
‘You will be exhausted when we get to Sandbay.’
‘Not if we sleep along the way.’ Sara rested her head on his shoulder. ‘We can take it in turns being the pillow.’
‘I do not sleep when I am travelling and certainly not with a lady. What if we were held up?’
‘And what if we were in a closed carriage making love and a highwayman held