connections and never puts a foot wrong and her father would be delighted if Lucian marries her. I thought he was going to make a declaration last Season, which was infuriating because I wasn’t out so I couldn’t do anything to stop him.’
‘Such as?’ Sara asked, fascinated despite herself at the thought of anyone thinking they could stop the Marquess of Cannock once he had made up his mind to something. ‘What could you do to prevent it?’
‘I could get her drunk at Almack’s or bribe some rake to flirt with her outrageously or put a mouse up her skirts at a dinner party,’ Marguerite said darkly. ‘She would make him dull, too. You wouldn’t.’
‘I am one-quarter Indian, I am a widow, my husband died in a duel and I have led a somewhat unconventional life since his death. None of that makes me a suitable wife for your brother, certainly not set against a well-bred young lady of perfect deportment. Even if I wanted to marry him, that is. Which I do not.’
Even as she spoke she could think of nothing but waking that morning in Lucian’s arms, the tender fierceness of his lovemaking, the pleasure they had exchanged and shared, the harmony she felt with him. And yet...and yet, this was the man who had only permitted his sister to marry for love when every other option had been removed, the man who would have killed Gregory and thought it was his duty, an honourable thing to do, the man who seemed to have no understanding of her own need for freedom or her anger at what Michael had done in his misguided desire to protect her honour.
There were fleeting moments when she imagined being with Lucian, sharing ideas, impressions, laughter. And there were long hours when she could see what would be the reality, a conventional husband expecting a conventional wife and exerting all the power that men had to enforce that.
‘I definitely do not,’ she repeated and looked away from the broad shoulders of the man driving ahead of them.
‘I suppose it will make it awkward for you, going to your family house like this,’ Marguerite ventured. ‘With Lucian, I mean.’
‘I have no intention of carrying on an affaire under that roof, you may be certain. And neither will you. Everything depends on the other guests witnessing the beginnings of a love-match and you behaving like an innocent young lady not quite out.’
‘Yes, Sara,’ Marguerite said meekly, making her feel forty-five at the very least.
* * *
It was a long day, but Sara was pleased to see that Lucian allowed Gregory to take the reins for several stages. Whether that was simple common sense because he knew he should give himself a break from time to time or, as Marguerite thought, a sign of forgiveness, it did at least mean they could keep up a good time. They reached Northampton just after sunset and she let out a sigh of relief when they finally drew in to the yard of the King’s Head.
Lucian came to help them down from the chaise while Gregory went inside to secure rooms. ‘I told him to bespeak four rooms and a private parlour,’ he told his sister as he swung her down on to the cobbles. ‘You need to get into practice for the house party.’
‘Yes, Lucian,’ she said obediently, her docility at odds with the longing look she gave Gregory from under her lashes.
Will Lucian come to my chamber tonight? Sara wondered as they went into the inn. Or was last night enough for him? Perhaps he has sated his desire and his curiosity. Although he had seemed to imply a longer relationship in his words when they were dressing that morning. She hoped so, since her desire and curiosity were certainly not sated yet.
When they were settled in their rooms, which all led off a small upstairs parlour, Lucian ordered dinner, poured wine and settled at the head of the table. ‘We need to get this story straight. Where will we have come from tomorrow?’
‘Reading would have been a good place to have broken our journey from Sandbay,’ Sara suggested. ‘Then we have no need to leave too early tomorrow.’
‘Very well. Now then. Marguerite has been unwell—a severe attack of influenza that you could not shake off.’ His sister nodded. ‘I took her to Sandbay to recuperate and Sara befriended her and invited us to the house party. Just before we left we were joined by Farnsworth, who has been taking a holiday to recover from his injury. That can have happened just as it did, and in Lyons but, shall we say that I was there on business and you had accompanied me?’
‘So I have not seen Greg... Mr Farnsworth...for some time and I find myself surprised at how shaken I am by his accident,’ Marguerite chipped in. ‘Lucian has heaps of work for him, which is why he must accompany us, but I will keep checking to make sure he is not being overworked while he is still convalescent.’
‘And it will not occur to anyone that they need strict chaperonage because they never have before,’ Sara suggested, shrugging when Lucian raised his eyebrows at her. ‘And before we know where we are they have fallen in love.’
‘And so on and so forth,’ Lucian said. ‘And I will amaze everyone by yielding to my sister’s pleas to allow them to marry, even though she is not yet out. The company will think I have lost my mind. As well they might,’ he added grimly.
Gregory was fiddling with his eyepatch, presumably prey to nerves, or perhaps embarrassment. The bruise on his chin from Lucian’s punch the previous night was darkening.
‘How did Gregory acquire that bruise?’ Sara asked.
‘I am not used to having only one eye and I misjudge distances, Lady Sara. I could have tripped over last night,’ he suggested.
‘That will have to do,’ Lucian said impatiently. ‘Now remember, both of you, for the sake of Marguerite’s reputation, this has to deceive a number of people, some of whom are probably eagle-eyed matrons on the look-out for the slightest impropriety.’
* * *
Sara reminded him of those words when he slipped quietly into her bedchamber several hours later. ‘My lord, are you by any chance here to commit some slight impropriety?’
‘I sincerely hope so, given that I face at least a week of being on my best behaviour,’ Lucian said as he turned the key in the lock. Under-lit by the candle flame, his face had a stark, unearthly quality.
I could look at that face for ever, she thought. Desire is such a snare. I see him, I want him and I cannot seem to think beyond what is going to happen in this bed tonight.
Lucian shrugged off his robe and put down the candle, easy in his skin, relaxed about his nakedness. But there was nothing relaxed about the look in his eyes as he watched her waiting for him, nor could she be in any doubt that however long and tiring the day had been this man fully intended to make love to her now—and probably for half of the night.
‘Darling!’ Lady Eldonstone, looking like a woman half her age, ran down the steps and reached the door of the chaise before the footman. She stood there while the man opened the door and let down the step, then seized Sara in a fierce hug the moment she emerged. ‘You look beautiful, darling, and do not take any notice of your father, or of Ashe. They are being ridiculous, the pair of them. You must be Lady Marguerite, welcome to Eldonstone. Have you had a good journey? Come along inside, both of you.’
‘Why must I take no notice of Papa
